[Richard's eyes glance at the phone. There's a part of him that doesn't want to read the messages, doesn't want to know what life Alex had while he wasn't here. Of course, she had a life, and he was fine with that. He was fine not knowing what she'd been doing while she was here. While he was trying to keep her and Charlie safe. While he was dealing with his father's suddenly being alive and kidnapped to Geneva with Coralee. While he was trying not to let her walk into the same trap that he knew he was walking into.
Except, that life seemed to keep popping up and attacking him. Every time he turned around she had told someone new. Told someone about Coralee, the woman he tried to avoid talking about. Tried to push back as far as he could. The woman who seemed to keep ghosting to the front of his life without a care of how deeply she'd scared his soul. And yet Alex was casually telling her friends about it.
It takes moments, several before his had even moves, and when it does it's almost only a cursory look over the information before he flips through it, absorbing the information quickly before pausing completely at one very specific string of comments. One very specific offer of cooking and a bottle of red.
His thumb flicks a few more times to find a second conversation. More entrenched in the same type of banter that he thought was him and Alex. There was, of course, Alex's flirty way of being, but their's was something different - or so he thought. Clearly, he was wrong. Clearly, he'd been, invading. Or so he felt as if he were. He also felt as if the pit of his stomach was going to drop out of his feet, or come up through his throat. Whichever it found more convenient.
Carefully, he placed the phone down before turning to the door.]
I'm, going out.
[The words were tight before he started heading toward that door.]
no subject
Except, that life seemed to keep popping up and attacking him. Every time he turned around she had told someone new. Told someone about Coralee, the woman he tried to avoid talking about. Tried to push back as far as he could. The woman who seemed to keep ghosting to the front of his life without a care of how deeply she'd scared his soul. And yet Alex was casually telling her friends about it.
It takes moments, several before his had even moves, and when it does it's almost only a cursory look over the information before he flips through it, absorbing the information quickly before pausing completely at one very specific string of comments. One very specific offer of cooking and a bottle of red.
His thumb flicks a few more times to find a second conversation. More entrenched in the same type of banter that he thought was him and Alex. There was, of course, Alex's flirty way of being, but their's was something different - or so he thought. Clearly, he was wrong. Clearly, he'd been, invading. Or so he felt as if he were. He also felt as if the pit of his stomach was going to drop out of his feet, or come up through his throat. Whichever it found more convenient.
Carefully, he placed the phone down before turning to the door.]
I'm, going out.
[The words were tight before he started heading toward that door.]