forty-three.

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         "GOODNIGHT YOU TWO," Ginny said as she waved Dave and Reagan off at the foot of the stairs, tying her night robe tighter around her. They both chimed out their goodnights at the same time, Dave leaning casually on the railing and Reagan beside him. She made sure to keep a small amount of distance between them, noticeable to Dave but easy to look over from Ginny and Lisa's point of view.

"Goodnight," Reagan said, smiling tightly as she desperately yearned for the confines of Lisa's old bedroom. More than anything, she surprisingly wanted to be back home in Olympia, back to the safe niche of her own bed where she could have mourned her devastation in private.

After the shell shock of learning that Dave was leaving Olympia, Reagan had charged herself with keeping it together for the rest of the day in front of his family. Neither she nor Dave had left the company of Ginny and Lisa, making it difficult to be anything other than outwardly happy.

It was even harder when Dave attempted to speak to her through body language. He'd done things like grabbed her hand or touched the small of her back in effort to communicate, but Reagan had only given him icy cold rebuffs. She was not even intentionally trying to shut him out. It was the only reaction that felt right in the middle of such sudden change.

Lisa had left shortly after dinner that night. Together Reagan and Dave had helped Ginny clean up, allowing her to do the most talking as they walked back and forth from the dining room to the kitchen with dirty dishes in hand. They had then spent time with her in the living room watching television, though Reagan had taken the seat farthest from Dave on the couch. She'd been relieved when Ginny had finally announced that she was ready for bed.

Reagan knew what was coming. There was no way Dave would let her go to bed without discussing what had happened or at least trying to explain why he'd done it, but Reagan was no longer sure that she wanted to hear his excuses. Of course she eventually wanted an explanation, but she was exhausted from the clever show of fake bliss she'd been putting on for hours.

She got a head start up the stairs, taking them two at a time. Dave followed closely behind her, close enough that she could feel him catching up to her step by step. It seemed like he was going to run straight into her, or rather trap her before she could go off on her own. Reagan half expected him to grab her hand to stop her, but he didn't. Maybe he knew better.

She reached the top of the stairs and began to walk purposefully down the hall, refusing to look over her shoulder. The sting of tears was already present in her eyes and inevitably they would spill over if she saw his face trying to plead with her.

"Reagan, wait," Dave said sternly. And finally, he made his move to take her hand. She had predicted all along that he eventually would and was quick to pull away from him.

"I just want to go to bed," she mumbled incoherently. "I'm tired."

"No. We're going to talk about this now. I know you're pissed at me."

Reagan let out a bitter, sarcastic laugh, keeping the sound hushed in case Ginny was still up downstairs. "You say that as if I don't have a right to be pissed."

"You do. You absolutely do. But let me explain."

"Should we really be doing this right now?"

His eyes flashed in the darkness, highlighting glimpses of fear, rejection and anger swimming in the dark brown of his irises. He took another step closer.

"What do you mean 'do this?' What are we doing here besides talking?"

Reagan looked away. He was making an automatic false assumption. He thought that they were about to break up standing in the hallway of his mother's home, but that was not what she'd been getting at. She just didn't want them to fight, but Dave had thought otherwise.

OUT OF THE RED ↝ dave grohlWhere stories live. Discover now