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CHAPTER THIRTY NINE

Reagan spent most of her day sat on the couch, staring into nothingness while she tried to make sense of her thoughts and soften her emotions

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Reagan spent most of her day sat on the couch, staring into nothingness while she tried to make sense of her thoughts and soften her emotions.

It's funny to her how someone that made her feel at her best could make her feel what she felt then, almost like the air was too thin to breathe and like heavy weight was pressing against her throat.

It surprised her how emotional pain could make her physically hurt.

It was six in the afternoon, just when the sun has started to set, when the front door opened slowly.

At that point, Reagan was lying against the crook of the couch where the backrest met the armrest and she's been staring at her lap for a little over an hour.

It was instinct for her to look up whenever the door chimes would ring across the entire house but for the first time in her life, she regretted it.

Jack was standing there across the living room, looking at her with tired, red eyes that looked like they haven't seen sleep for a month. It was bloodshot and puffy and she shouldn't have found comfort in the thought that he was crying all night but for some twisted, fucked up reason, she did.

Jack looked pathetic. Absolutely miserable. His hair looked almost straight, likely from the number of times he ran his hands through it, and he was pulling the cuffs of his flannel top over his hands, looking like he was trying to make himself smaller.

They just stared at each other, a few seconds too long, and Reagan wanted to hurl at the sight of him.

He was the first one to break the silence.

"Reagan," His voice croaked out, barely audible. Reagan fully looked at him then and the mention of her name made teardrops form at the corner of his eyes almost instantly, "I am so sorry."

Reagan didn't know what to say to him. She wasn't even sure if she wanted to say anything to him at all.

For the past six hours she's been awake, she's thought of a hundred things she wanted to say to Jack but now that he was in front of her to hear it, only one question seemed to matter to her.

"What was I to you?" She asks, voice shaking, not actually knowing if she wanted to hear his answer.

If only she looked hard enough, she should've seen the hurt on his face at her words.

"Honestly?" He choked out, taking a deep breath, "Since the second time we went to the falls? Everything."

Reagan wanted to vomit.

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