Annie
"Hello?" I called uncertainly
"Daddy!" Anthony yelled, helping me 'search.'
I closed my eyes and let out a whoosh of air. Anthony doesn't know what's going on; my parents told him that I was just upset but I would be okay by the next morning.
And I was, I guess. I decided to go home, and asked Steven if he'd like to join me, but he said he was going over to Boston, and wouldn't tell me why or for what. He wouldn't let Anthony come when he asked.
But now I'm home, after I left last night. And Lainey's car isn't in the driveway. Joe's is.
And there's Joe, on the couch, feet on the table, TV on, like the most normal situation in the world.
"Hey," he said. Also natural.
"Hi."
Anthony ran over to him, giving a hug. Natural. "How was your stay?" he asked Anthony.
I at first thought he was talking to me, and I was about to say, How was yours? But when Anthony answered, I held my tongue. "It was okay," Anthony said with a shrug.
"Just alright?" Joe asked.
"Yeah," Anthony said. "Was okay."
This conversation is so light–natural. It's making my blood boil. Joe looked to me. What, he's expecting me to go over there and we'll watch TV like the proper family we were? Were. Oh, god.
"When'd you leave to get him?" he asked me, sounding sort of confused.
"Huh?" But actually I was the one that should be confused because I didn't leave to get Anthony, I left to get away from Joe.
Joe frowned. "This morning," he explained. "I didn't see you. When did you leave?"
This morning? This morning. He thinks I left this goddamn morning?! "This morning?" I question softly.
"Yes, this morning. That's what I said."
"Well, you don't have to say it like that," I snap.
"What?"
"You know what," I say. And then he was really confused, but I didn't miss the guilt that flashed across his eyes. It was there for maybe half a second, but I saw it. Believe me, I saw it.
Joe shook his head. "I really don't," he said slowly.
"Like hell," I bark, turning around so he doesn't see me when the inevitable happens.
Anthony, of course being the innocent, perceptive kid he is, asked in a scared voice, "Mommy, are you gonna cry again?"
I cringed, squeezing my eyes shut and absolutely refusing to allow myself to cry again. I turned back to look at Anthony, trying for a smile. "No, honey. I'm not," I said. Still, my voice broke, and then I whirled back around and walked off towards the bedroom.
"Ann–"
I hold out a hand. "I'm not," I say sternly, loudly, more so convincing myself than anyone else, and also not wanting to hear him at the moment.
I slammed the door, and even though I tried to be convincing, I sank down against it, and, well, sobbed.
--
Lainey
"Hi, babe," I said casually when Steven walked through the door. I wasn't about to question where he was. Not yet, at least.
"Hey," he replied absently, heading for the kitchen and returning moments later with a beer. Other than when he said something, he didn't acknowledge my presence. Something was wrong, but I didn't know what... yet. But there was definitely something bothering him.
"Are you... are you okay?" I asked when he still said nothing; just stared at the wall and drank the beer.
He shrugged. "Yeah," he replied tersely. "Why?"
I didn't let his tone bother me. "Because you look upset," I answered.
"Good," was his reply.
"G–?"
"Because I am," he carried on, not noticing that I was beginning to say something.
"Oh."
"Mmhm."
"W-what's wrong, then?" I questioned, trying to tread lightly.
"Oh, nothing," he said slowly, dramatically, with a wave of his hand. "I've just been thinking is all." I didn't even get a chance to ask him about what he was thinking. "About... stuff. Like what can classify as 'accidental' and what can classify as 'totally absolutely intentional' and if there's an in between for those two..."
There's no way he can know. There's absolutely no way. I left this morning; he just got home, I can tell because he's wearing the same thing he wore to the party at Joe's.
"O-of course there's an in between," I say.
"Really?" he challenges. "And what is it?"
"It's... it's like... 'I know I did this and it was wrong but...' "
Steven raises an eyebrow. "But?"
"Yeah. But."
"But what, exactly?"
I shrug. "That's just it. But."
"Perhaps," he says slowly, thoughtfully. "Perhaps... 'but I loved every second of it'?"
I can feel the blood drain from my face as my eyes grow wide. Steven's looking at me with a triumphant smirk, like he knows he's won or something. "What?" I ask innocently.
"Don't play that card," he says brusquely.
"I–"
"Don't play the card where you act like you haven't got a clue what's going on. You know perfectly well what happened last night, you don't regret it at all, and if you were gonna go and do that, you could've at least had the heart to tell me that you weren't fucking in love with me anymore–"
"At–"
"Save it," he says. "I don't wanna hear whatever sorry excuse you come up with, or reasoning you can pull from thin air. I don't wanna hear it, I don't care, I'm done. I'm done, so stop playing innocent and asking me what's wrong. You know perfectly well what's wrong: you fucked Joe and you loved it. That is what's wrong. So wrong, in so many ways. Don't even apologize."
"No, you don't understand, he in–"
"He made the first move. Yeah. Whatever. Great. Bullshit! Am I blind? Do you think I don't notice things? What the fuck; do you think I never noticed?"
"I... yeah."
"Jesus Christ..." he mutters, standing. "Yeah. I'm done. Done. Go, be with Joe. I don't give a shit. Whatever. Ruin his family. But don't come back here when it doesn't work. God... I'm done." He runs his hands down his face and through his hair, stressed and exasperated. "Please..." he says tiredly, quietly, icily, "leave."
I was stunned and there were tears. "L-leave?" I choked out.
"Yeah. Leave," he says. "Go. Somewhere. I don't care. Just not here."
I was bewildered and outraged that he would say something like that. I messed up. Once! And he's gonna just kick me out?! "Where the hell am I gonna go?" I demand.
"I don't care," he repeats. "Home?"
"...Home?" I thought that this was my home. I live here, that's why Louis and I broke up, so I could live here. And, well, he was cheating on me and–
Oh, God. This is bad. This is bad. This is very, very bad.
"Steven..." I said softly, sadly, wanting to sit near him and have him hold me while I apologize endlessly. "Oh, no... oh, Steven..."
He shrugs away from me.
"No, no... no... I'm sorry. I'm so, so, sorry... I know exactly what you're feeling right n–"
"No," he says coldly, "I don't think you do."
That smacked me back to reality; no more thoughts about Louis. "Sorry?"
"I don't think you know, exactly," Steven repeats, blasé.
"Ba–"
Steven puts up a hand to stop me. "Go home," he says tiredly.
"I– I am home," I try.
"Your home."
"But–"
"I don't give a shit!" he explodes. "Go to Joe's... go to yours... go fucking somewhere! Just... just not here! Not here."
I grab my jacket, finally. "So that's it?"
Steven nods with pursed lips. "Yep."
"Oh- I- uh- yeah. Okay."
And at that, I take my car keys and leave. Where I'm going, I don't know. But I guess I'll end up somewhere. Wherever it is, though, it won't be home.
//
Steven
"Goddammit."