Tender (A britpop era fiction)

Our House

So, what do we have in this chapter for me taking so long? We have a sulking Damon, Graham being the voice of reason, a look back on Damons and Claires past and then more looking back on their past. This chapter is not edited, so sorry for any mistakes. Besides that, enjoy and stay safe and sound as always.

Love,

Sally, x. 

Damon sits in a pub, one hand clasped around his drink and spinning his phone in the other, looking at the message.

You better come home tonight.

He doesn't know if he wants to feel ease or anger looking at it. His eyes run over each word, before he puts the phone away, just to hold the damn thing in his hand again a second later. 

You better come home tonight.

Only Claire can write him a message like this. That never really changed, her way of saying I fuckin' hate you, you twat, really meaning I fucking miss you, you twat. 

As soon as he woke up this morning, the grey outside barely illuminating the room, what happened yesterday was instantly back on his mind. His head almost rested next to Claires and for a moment he looked at her sleeping face before he couldn't stand the closeness anymore. His frustration was still gnawing on him. So he got up as quietly as he could, ignoring his headache from the night before while throwing some random clothes on and left the house as quickly as he could. 

It was a spontaneous ride to Grahams and Essys house, almost instinctive. He sat down on the breakfast table and Pepper showed him her newest drawings he looked at in awe, while he explained to his friends what happened.

He didn't really expect them to side against him though.

"You shouldn't be here" Essy said while she balanced their daughter Dorelia on her lap, who had her second birthday a few weeks ago. She glanced over to him in disapproval while trying to get the toddler to eat some porridge. "You should be home, trying to fix this."

"How can I probably fix this? Missy's not even taking my calls."

Again her scolding look wandered over him. 

"I was talking about Claire. Seems she's the only one right now who's got an idea what she does."

Galled, Damon took a sip of his coffee.

"She didn't tell me." His throat felt bitter even saying it. 

"Given your reaction, can you really blame her?" Essy commented, putting the spoon in Dorelias mouth. 

"Why is this my fault now?" he asked fretful. 

"Digging your heels in the ground is of no help."

"I'm not-"

"Yes, you are" Essy insisted. "Expecting everyone to take your position and not considering why they did what they did."

"Oh I know exactly why they did it. Doesn't make it any better though, does it?" Damon answered upset. The thought of neither his partner nor his own child trusting him enough to tell him something that could be of significant importance for their whole family, stung. Seeking for help he looked at his best friend.

"It's a shit situation" Graham admited. "But your a dick for not giving any of them a chance."

Damon moaned frustrated.