The door shuts, and almost like a light switch my tears instantly take over. My entire body starts to get heavy and I think I miss him. The feeling I get is an all too familiar one. It's like when he first left all over again, and it burns like hell. This is not how I wanted this to go. This is not what was supposed to happen, I didn't want to fight with him. It hits me that he's now walked out for the second time and I start to shake.
"Fuck." I curse, and turn around to pull the door open. "Marshall!"
I walk out onto my porch and look around for him. I walk down my driveway and glance down the street, he's nowhere. Part of me thinks he was never really there. Maybe I'm just fucking insane. Or maybe this is just another nightmare. But then I see the only available parking space in front of my house. And I know he's gone. He left.
"Fuck!" I yell, and it gets the attention of a few people jogging.
I rush back into my house and slam the door for the second time. I lean against the door and sink to the floor, pulling out my phone. I click number two on speed dial, and press it to my ear. The phone instantly tells me that the number I'm trying to call is no longer in use. Then I cry even harder, for a split second, one stupid second, I had forgotten Ren is gone. I cry into my knees, hugging them tightly. I wish she was here. She would know what to do.
I cry for a very long time, hours I think. I cry over Marshall, over Ren, over Rule, over Maverick, over Bo. I cry so hard my head starts to pound, my thoughts are jumbled together and everything is just so messy.
When I was talking to Marshall and he threw Maverick in my face I knew Thatcher had told him. And the strange thing is I wasn't mad. I was mad he said it the way he did but I wasn't mad at Thatcher. In a way I'm grateful he told him, so that I wouldn't have to. He just knows. It's not a secret.
I don't know where things will go with them. I like Maverick, but I love Marshall. But he is so bad for me sometimes. And as far as Maverick goes we're not even dating. I don't call or consider him my boyfriend, everything happened so fast. A part of me regrets it. I knew he liked me and I knew my feelings didn't match his. I rushed into it and it was unfair to everybody involved. I played with his feelings without even knowing it. I was so hellbent on getting back at Marshall that I used Maverick to get revenge. And I hate myself for it, because he seems to be the only one in my corner. He's been my closest friend for months and I owe it to him to tell him all this before it goes any further.
I take in a deep breath, I need to call and tell him I can't come over tonight. It also wouldn't be fair for me to go over and pretend to be okay while my mind in somewhere else. I pull out my phone and click on his contact.
"Hey." He answers, he sounds happy. He's always in a good mood, it seems like he doesn't get mad often.
"Hi." I say back, failing to mask the pain in my voice.
"What's wrong?" He asks in his way, he's so caring.
"I can't come over tonight." I say softly.
"Is everything okay?"
"Well, I don't know." I tell him. "I saw Marshall today, and it didn't go well and I just want to be with Thatcher tonight."
"You saw Marshall?" He asks, and there is zero hint of any hostility. "Is he okay? Are you?"
"He knows about us." I explain. "Him and Thatcher got drunk last night."
"How does Thatcher know?" His voice shifts slightly.
Fuck.
"I tell him everything." I say, starting to cry again. "Mav we need to talk. About everything. I'm so confused."
"Then come over Rach you know I always want you here." He says, and I can picture his expression. Kind, and not in any way angry.
"I can't Maverick." I say, and it sounds strange to use his full name. "I don't want to complicate things more."
