Milkshake Hearts

Chapter 73: Overwhelmed

"Fuck!" Shayne exclaims, when she steps out of the house, "fuck, shit, fuck, Shayne you absolute fucking idiot dickhead what the fuck did you just do why the fuck did you-"

He continues cussing himself out as he starts pacing back and forth across the room. He was never angry at her, she didn't do anything wrong, he was angry at himself and he was scared and the previous evening had made him feel so overwhelmed and inadequate and out of control and out of his depth and- instead of admitting that, instead of talking to her, he's turned around and made up some bullshit to turn it on her. He hurt her.

The thought makes him collapse back onto the sofa in a fit of angry tears. He hurt Courtney, he did it with intent, and the guilt makes him feel sick to his stomach as he sobs on the couch for five minutes, breath coming out in disorganised gasps.

He picks up his phone roughly from the dining table when he gains some control over his own breathing again, pulling up her contact and hitting call. He presses the phone tightly against his ear as it rings twice, three times, five, six- it rings out with no response, and he ends the call before her voicemail message appears. She doesn't ever listen to voicemail messages anyway, so he flicks to a text instead.

"Hey. I'm sorry, I fucked up, I didn't mean any of that at all. I know you're mad at me and you have every right to be but please come home?" he sends, sniffling through his tears as he does.

He forces himself off the couch after repetitively reading over his message for a few minutes, falling back into nervous pacing across the living room, waiting for some noise – any noise – from his phone. It doesn't come, but he eventually decides to move further into the kitchen, pulling out various ingredients to prep for her favourite ramen. Her comfort food. They were going to get takeaway for dinner, but he figures it's the least he can do.

His ears continue to strain constantly for his ringtone or his text tone, but nothing comes. He makes it thirty minutes after his last message until he can no longer take it, the nausea in his abdomen as his mind swims with guilt and worry directing him back to check his phone. She hasn't even read the message. He's genuinely worried he might throw up.

"Courtney? Can you at least let me know you're okay?" he sends a second message, staring at it sitting unread on the screen for another five minutes.

He figures if she's gone anywhere, it's would be one of two places: Olivia's, or her Dad's. Two people he'd promised he'd never hurt her, who trusted him implicitly even before he made that promise. It makes him feel like absolute shit and he grabs his own wallet and keys, shoving his phone into his pocket as he too steps out of the house and towards his car.

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Courtney can see Ian go to make a joke about her unexpected arrival at his door at 8pm on a Wednesday night, but he clearly assesses her appearance – makeup running, arms crossed protectively around herself, tears actively running down her face – and decides otherwise. Instead, he steps to the side and opens the door wider, silently gesturing for her to come in.

It's only then that she realises how weird it probably is to turn up at her boss's house crying at this hour. She's never done it before – in fact, she's pretty sure the only person whose door she had turned up at crying in her adult life was Shayne's before they started dating – but it's too late now. Plus, the thought of Shayne comforting her sends a rush of mixed emotions through her mind: she's fucking hurt, and she's angry, and she doesn't want to see his stupid face but she desperately wishes she was in his arms.

Her text tone goes off in her bag, the second time since she'd left the house. She ignores it, sitting down at Ian's dining table across from him when he subtly directs her to do so. Ian doesn't speak, but he watches her with concern.