Before us...

Chapter Twenty Five

A few days had passed since Milo had made promises he had yet to keep. It was difficult for him to face the two men who lived down the street after the way he had behaved, and without Lila to run to until he had, he was struggling. They had not spoken, or touched, or laid eyes on the other in days and it was horrible. It now dawned on Milo exactly how vital she had become; how much he had come to rely on her to be there for him and how much he needed to be there for her. For now, it was not simply enough to need each other, he had come to realise, but it was crucial that they were capable of taking care of themselves first and Milo had amends to make.

Lila was at the bottom of his list at the moment, the stinging of his injured hand was a constant reminder of how disgusting his behaviour had been toward her. He was desperate to fix it. But he had to start elsewhere, in order to prove to her that he was trying to better himself, he decided to begin with Jensen.

It was his one day away from work that week allowing for the perfect moment for him to get down on his knees to beg for forgiveness to become unavoidable. He was staring at himself in the mirror, pumping himself up to leave the house to face the music. He was used to confrontation in the sparring sense, but the idea of walking over there with his tail between his legs with the intention of apologising was not something he was accustomed to. When he and James would get into trouble, they would run away from the problems. Often they would hide and laugh about the person they had mocked or the fight they had just lost and that would be that. Milo had never taken into consideration the simple fact that his actions had consequences, not until James death did it dawn on him that life was not as simple as all of that, it was not easy and sometimes you had to fix the things that you had broken.

Jensen had angered him, or rather he had heightened the anger that was already there up to ten, but it was no excuse. Milo had hurt him and although at the time he meant to, he now wanted to make up for that, make up for the embarrassment he was sure to have caused the usually giddy man.

He was scared, now that he stared at himself in the bathroom mirror after splashing some cool water on his face. He was worried that they would answer the door, take one look at him and slam it in his face. Maybe they would hit him or throw something at him and show him how they really felt about him. Or worse, Jensen will cry and need comforting which happened to be something Milo was not well versed with either. It did not matter, he told himself. He would make amends even if it meant that he started every future conversation they would have with 'I'm sorry' just as a reminder. It did not matter because he refused to crawl back to Lila as a failure.

And with that, he left the bathroom, leaving the door swinging behind him, grabbed his keys and locked the door behind him. Milo began to walk away from his safe haven, with his hands stuffed into his pockets and his legs shaking. He felt un-sturdy, slightly lightheaded with a touch of sickness weighing heavily over him as he walked the short way to their home. Milo had never really taken the time to appreciate how much effort they had put into their home, but now that he was taking it in, for the first time, in the light of day, he could see how beautiful a home they had made for their family.

From the array of soon to be colourful flowers that were beginning to bloom underneath the windowsill, to the manicured green grass and cobbled stone pit that wrapped around the whole thing, it really was a pretty sight. The house alone was stunning; with its white stone walls that contrasted gloriously with Prussian blue panes of the door and windows that encompassed clear glass, allowing you to see the warm light that swarmed the inside. It took him a short while to notice that a shocked man stood staring back at him in awe. He averted his gaze quickly, not wanting to offend.

Inhaling deeply once or twice, he made his way up the garden path coming face to face with the strong barrier. Milo raised a sweaty fist to it, knocking heavily, swallowing hard as he did so. The muffled tones of those inside sent shivers down his spine as he shook nervously waiting for the door to open. He begged for it to open, to open quickly, just to open. And he hated himself when it did, presenting Jensen who stood there with his arms wrapped tightly around himself, a look of worry upon his usually joyous face.