Between Us (all of us #1)

T E N

T R E N T O N

I've stayed home the past few days. Diesel's been spending more time with Chloe and just like Joselyn predicted, there isn't enough room for me in that equation.

We hung out a couple of times after school and I slept over one night after work, but he's just been so dull. I can tell this is weighing heavily on him. It really set in for me when he showed me the ultrasound photo. Even though I had no idea what I was looking at, I knew it meant this was really happening.

And suddenly he's been hard to reach. I've been texting him all day with no reply. It worried me, so I braved up and headed to the Cooper house—despite knowing Roger should have come home tonight, and the fact that I could be walking in on world war three.

But the house is quiet as I walk up the dimly lit steps. Roger's car isn't parked in the driveway, so the coast must be clear.

I use my key to let myself in and hear the familiar sniveling that broke my heart last week. I follow the sound into the kitchen and see Aubree crying quietly beside the fridge.

"Hey," I say, gently.

She viscously wipes her face dry before taking another sip from her glass. I don't even want to know how much she's drank tonight, but I'm sure it's both not enough and too much. Her lips quiver as she forces a smile and raises her glass to me.

I know this is where I'm supposed to chuckle at the fact that she's trying to be humorous while she's in complete distress, but I don't find anything funny about walking in on her like this.

"Where's Diesel?"

"Chloe's..." She nods glumly.

"What's wrong?" I cringe internally as I hear the words leave my lips. Like it isn't obvious. I know what's wrong.

Everything.

She thinks I know nothing about her, but truthfully I'm the only one watching. I know how much of a dick Roger is, I see the way he treats her. I knew Diesel was going to fuck up, and I know she was just waiting for the day. I know she's lonely. I know she's full of regret. I know she coddles endless bottles of wine because she doesn't know how to get out of this. Because she doesn't want to think about it. She doesn't want to stare reality in it's red, angry, ugly face. I know so much more than she thinks.

"Nothing." She presents me a faint smile. "What? A girl can't cry and sip a glass of wine in her spare time?"

"You look fucking miserable."

"No." She shakes her head. "This is just normal housewife behavior, Trenton. I swear."

I tilt my head at her, smart enough not to fall for her shit. Caring enough not to take her nothings for an answer. She has no idea how much I really do care about her. I've been with Diesel and walked in on her doing this plenty of times, but he's never noticed anything wrong with her. He's never asked her how she was doing. He's never talked to her more than to ask her to leave him alone or what's for dinner.

"Bullshit." I let one corner of my mouth rise an inch or two as I come closer to her, seeing her pinch the front of her robe together to hide the small bit of cleavage that was peeking out. Too late, I already noticed. "But even under all the misery, you still look beautiful. How in the hell do you do that?"

"Okay, Romeo." She rolls her glossy eyes before a genuine smile plasters on her face and she dabs the inner corners of her eyes with her fingertips. "Anyway, Diesel's not coming back tonight. Sorry to disappoint."

"I'm not." I shrug. "I didn't really come for Diesel."

"Then what'd you come for?"

"To check in with the house. To make sure everyone's okay."