Cause for Concern ✓

thirty five

MONDAY. 17. JANUARY. 22. 

"SO everything is going okay then?" Wren asked, shuffling back into her chair and pulling her mint green cardigan tighter around herself as she huddled into it.

"I guess so," he shrugged, fingers interlinked and resting in between his thighs, one of his legs bouncing. He offered her a small smile and glanced at the sunlight pouring into the room through the window, splashing her office in a hazy winter warmth. There was something nostalgic about it that reminded him of childhood; tarmac playgrounds, covered with melting snow. "I don't wanna jinx it."

"How are things with your dad?" She inquired, tilting her head and studying him curiously. "Do you still go for dinner? Still stay over?"

"Yeah, probably half the time," he nodded, rubbing the back of his neck and pausing before he continued. "He asked me to move back in with him on Friday."

"Oh?" She replied, quirking her eyebrows. "What do you think about that?"

"I don't know," he shrugged again, glancing at the floor and glimpsing towards her to meet her gaze. "I told him I needed more time to think about it."

Friday night had been pretty quiet for him. Carter and Tommy had been out alone somewhere, and Danny had been with Ava.

Cole had been out of town for the weekend to go and visit his sister, and he was supposed to be back this morning, but Max hadn't seen him yet and figured he might be skipping class for the day.

Since he wasn't around on Friday, Max had decided to invite Freya to hang over for a couple of hours, not to do anything in particular other than watch a few shitty movies and order too much junk food.

When she was leaving, he'd walked her to the porch and watched her get into her car before closing the front door over, immediately faced with his dad sauntering out of the living room when he turned back towards the house.

They'd sat down on the sofa together and his dad had gone on what sounded like a relatively rehearsed preface to his proposal of Max moving back in, insisting that there was no rush and he didn't have to move in at all if he didn't want to, but it was important for him to know that the option was there.

Admittedly, he'd barely contemplated it since his dad had left the room to go and check on Josh a mere five minutes after their conversation had started. It wasn't that he didn't appreciate the offer, just that he had no idea what response to give and it was one of those things that could be easily procrastinated (something else he appreciated). Besides, like his dad said, there was no rush.

"Understandably," she remarked, eyebrows gently furrowed as she nodded her head. "How are you feeling about it? You given it any thought?"

"Sort of," he frowned, eyes narrowed in consideration. "It's definitely an option, but I don't know. It's a lot to think about."

"Let's talk about it then," she replied, leaning back in her chair and shuffling down a little, legs crossed over and her hands resting on her ankles. "What makes you feel like you would want to move back in with him?"

"Because it's my home, I guess," he pondered. "I mean, it's starting to feel more like home again after everything that happened, but sometimes I think about it too hard and then I still feel like I'm a guest there. It's weird right now— everything is weird— and I'm worried that if I move back in again then the dynamic will shift, and we'll start arguing the way we used to. What happens then?"