skinny love | shyland

fourteen

ryland's pov

nearly two weeks had passed since the tense interaction shared between shane and i, and my days spent at work had been filled with nothing but formality. it was almost like the intimate moment we'd held outside had jolted us back to reality, forcing the realisation of inevitability down our throats. things weren't necessarily uncomfortable between us; he still flirted as though i wasn't getting married next year, and banter still flew between us in mornings where we shuffled our feet and wrapped up warm in coats to try survive the mid-october freeze. but not a word had been uttered about my family since our conversation, nor had it been asked whether conor was treating me any better. but i still saw the question in his eyes as he searched my arms for bruises when i took a puff of his cigarette. i knew that the anger hadn't left him since i'd let the words fall off my lips.

had shane swallowed the awkwardness between us and asked about conor, there wouldn't have been much to tell. things were entirely neutral between us. we were far from the hot and heavy mess we'd been the night we reconciled, but there was no silence at the dinner table or hushed arguments in the kitchen when madison had fallen asleep. he'd frowned and made a sarcastic comment when i'd told him i wouldn't be home until late tonight, listening to him mutter and scoff under his breath as i spread jam on slices of crustless toast on a pink plate.

shane had managed to confirm a meeting with an upcoming australian artist that he'd been haggling after for months; the clause was that his management would only hold a meeting at noon, and bearing in mind the staggering sixteen hour time difference, we'd be sitting down to talk with them at 8pm.

fifteen minutes before we were set to sit down, the last of the staff members left after a lot of convincing that the two of us would be fine without coffee on tap. shane returned to his desk after a couple minutes where he seemingly saw the office team out, falling into his leather seat with a slight huff.

"fuck, what a day." he murmured, rubbing the bridge of his nose with his hands cupped over his face.

i hummed in return, rotating my chair to face him slightly. "that editor guy from earlier was an asshole. he didn't even look you in the eye when you were speaking to him!"

shane dipped his head back a little and chuckled. "mhmm. don't think i'll be asking him to come back any time soon." there was a few moments of comfortable silence between us. "how's things with your kid? i feel like i haven't asked you that in ages."

"madi? she's fine." i replied shortly, and the two of us locked eyes for several fleeting seconds. "cheeky though, she's getting a mouth on her and she's not even half way to her teen years yet."

"like her dad." he quipped back and i let out a little gasp, chucking a crumpled bit of paper from my table and missing him by several feet. "let's hope she gets your athletic skill too."

i stuck my middle finger up in his direction and he laughed, shaking his head slightly, the atmosphere feeling warm and homely despite the professional environment. i let my mind drift back to how the sun had warmed my cheeks when sat on his patio, the smell of tobacco sticking to my hair as he blew smoke out over my shoulder. it wasn't often that i allowed myself to think of that morning because of the immense guilt that came with it; the feelings i had for shane were so much easier when glasses were being smashed and verbal abuse was being thrown across the room. a part of me was growing to resent the peace amongst conor and i. using the tension between us as an excuse made the dread of what i'd done subside a little.

ten minutes of conversation passed before we headed into the conference room, sitting next to each other rather than across the table as usual. it felt strange to be sitting in a seat usually reserved for the higher up members of the label. once shane had fiddled with the laptop for a few minutes and finally connected onto zoom, we were met with the several screens of faces, and before i knew it he was launching into his pitch as to why the artist should leave his current record company for us.