In The Clear | ✓

22 | say anything

Jensen spent most of the next day wrapped in her comforter, sitting on the living room couch, and eating an entire family sized bag of ketchup chips that had not been previously opened until that morning. The only time she managed to remove herself from the semi-permanent lump in the cushion she resided in was when she had to go to the bathroom from drinking a four pack of Jones orange and cream soda. Bottles littered the floor where her feet would have been should she not have sat cross-legged.

            She rubbed her powdery fingers on a pair of stained sweatpants as she put the last pinched finger-full of broken chips into her mouth. Tossed the empty bag to the ground beside her Jones bottles. At some point she'd have to clean it up. But after that some point, Jensen would also have to go upstairs to where Miles was folding laundry and she'd want to hug him but wouldn't know if that was okay and she didn't want the first words they'd spoken to each other all day to be anything other than how sorry she was.

            Miles was good at giving her space. He didn't shoot side-glances or sigh loudly when he wanted her to know he was upset. He simply was. Miles existed in spite of everything and stayed quiet when she wasn't ready to talk.

            Hearing the tap turn on in the kitchen made Jensen's heart skip a beat. Collecting the bag and bottles into her arms, Jensen rose from the couch for the first time that day that hadn't been to use the washroom. When she walked into their kitchen, Jensen saw Miles rinsing dishes and putting them in the dishwasher. Maddox walked into the kitchen from the other direction and Jensen ducked behind the wall again, pressing herself against it. He didn't need to be part of the conversation. Frankly, Jensen wished they didn't have to have the conversation. But they did. It was her fault that they did.

            "How's it going?" Maddox asked.

            "I'm fine," Miles said. "How are you?"

            "Fine? Really?"

            "What?"

            "That's what you're going with?"

            "I am mostly content with who I am as a human being at this present moment," Miles said. Far too sarcastically for him not to earn a swat to the shoulder from Maddox. "How are you on this fine afternoon?" Miles paused. "Better?"

            Smack. There it was.

            "Ow!"

            "You know that's not what I meant."

            "What did you mean?"

            "Are we really playing this game, Milo?"

            Miles sighed. "I don't want to talk about it."

            "I found you asleep on your couch this morning," Maddox said. "And you don't want to talk about it?"

            "Correct."

            "Miles—"

            "I don't know what I'm supposed to do."

            Jensen peaked her head around the corner. Knowing she should've left. Staying anyway. Because she couldn't help herself. She wanted to apologize, but if there was more on Miles' plate than she knew, she wanted to be able to address it. Jensen wanted to lay everything on the table. Show the cards. God, she should've walked away.

            "About?" Maddox's arms were crossed. Scolding. He brought out the best in Miles, but also knew when he had to put his caretaker hat on. When he had to be Miles' stand-in father. Maddox always knew.