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In the morning, she wakes alone.
It's not something she's new to. It doesn't bother her as much as it would someone else. That's just how it is.
Steve's room is empty. His bed is cold on his side. He's been gone for a while it seems. Violet's crib is vacant. Jen feels a horrible feeling in her chest. While Steve doesn't know Lowen is home, it feels like they know. Maybe Violet even knows. Lowen Odette is the mother of his child. Are they tied by some invisible string?
It feels so.
She moves to the guest room before she goes downstairs. The halls smell like cinnamon and batter. As she walks she drags her fingertips along the wallpaper, its smooth texture. In the guest room she stares at the boxes of clothes and things that made her life. He's told her she should've unpacked, the guest closet is empty. The dressers are free. The bed is always made. No one ever stays in here.
But Steve still has parents.
Parents who may never be home, but still live here. They own this house. She takes them into account, Steve never will. She doesn't blame him. Though, she would hate for them to eventually come home and there's a teenage girl moved into their house without their knowledge.
Jen doesn't unpack.
She stares at herself in the mirror behind her for too long. She picks apart her face and then puts it all back together hoping something will look different. Something should give. But it never does. She looks the same. She looks bland. She feels bland. She decides she just needs to get clothes on.
It is hard to find what she wants, sometimes.
She finds a pair of jeans that aren't too big and don't have holes in the knees. She finds a red baseball tee and a grey sweater. She changes. Goes through her hair with a brush. She pulls her olden shoes on.
She drags her fingers down the railing as she goes down the stairs. Violet makes a bubbling noise as she spots Jen from her high chair. Jen smiles softly at the girl and comes up to her. She pets her hair down gently and drags a finger down her nose. Violet giggles.
Steve looks over his shoulder at the two from the stove. He's got a plate of cinnamon pancakes next to him. There's only two on the plate. "Morning," he says softly.
Jen takes Violet from the high chair. The little girl clings to her with a baby smile. Jen moves towards Steve and smiles light, "Hi." He sends her a quick smile before flipping a pancake. It's a little burnt but neither comment on it.
"Did you already eat?" Jen asks as her eyes linger on Violet, she bounces her a little on her hip. Steve's eyes flicker to Jen then back to the pan. "Yeah, I did," Steve lies. "Violet ate too," not a lie. "These pancakes are for you. Sorry if they're a little.." They both look down at the plate of slightly burnt pancakes. While he stares at them Jen's eyes flicker to the side of his face. She knows he doesn't eat much. It probably has to do with all the sports. She doesn't eat much either, but that's because she's never had the chances too. Sometimes, she simply just doesn't want to. She wonders if Steve feels like that a lot of the time. He just doesn't want to.
