a new beginning

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[c u p p ii e]

xxxxx




MAY THIRTEENTH， ２０１８

When they were younger he was sure that James and Riley dropping them off here was ultimately a blessing with the way James abused Bentley and Riley allowed it to happen. But the older he got, the more he began to wonder what life would have been like had they never did and then of course he’d feel bad about the thought. If James wouldn’t have persuaded Riley to give them up, James probably would have ended up destroying Bentley mentally and physically and Aaron would have never been able to recover from it. But what good was all that when Bentley was doing no better only years later, and the thought made him more angry than he could fathom.

“You’re the reason Bentley ended up in the hospital!” he shouted before he could stop himself. Aaron hardly ever raised his voice, only ever at Bentley who just wouldn’t listen otherwise, but he’d be lying if he said that he didn’t resent Diane for Bentley’s hospitalization. Of course he knew it wasn’t fully her fault, Bentley had a lot of trauma to work though, but he was sure that she was a big part of his decision that night. Yet, Diane’s words still managed to have cut right through him. It almost felt like he couldn’t breathe when she told him that he had made things harder for her, for all of them, and just like that he stopped. The only sounds to be heard was Scout’s screaming and Eleanor’s soft voice who couldn’t quite break through what felt like ringing in his ears.

And then— it felt like something broke in him, his voice suddenly neutral as he spoke. “Just like you, I was a child Diane and we both had to grow up so ******** fast,” His entire life he had been focused on making sure everyone else was okay, always patient and always listening, and for what if this was the way she felt? “I made these choices because I was asked to, by your mother and then again by your grandmother. I never asked for this responsibility and yet here I am—” He brushed off Eleanor’s hand off his arm who had just given a screaming Scout back to Diane. Her touch no comfort to him at this point as he realized how upset that he was making everyone, but a he just couldn’t shake this feeling in his chest. “Dedicating my entire life trying to replace that comfort for you, when maybe I should have just been worried about myself and Bentley,” because at the end of the day, when things were painted black and white that’s who the two of them only ever had, each other.

Aaron paused for a moment, running his fingertips through his hair just like Diane had moments ago. His cheeks now flushed, his freckles more prominent, the winter air doing nothing to help cool him off. “Don’t worry, Diane, from here on out I won’t be get involved,” it was only then that he decided to finally acknowledge Eleanor who had been standing there quiet the entire time, aside from when she had broken up the fight in the first place. “But if that’s the case, stay the ******** away from Bentley,” the request ridiculous since he was the father of their daughter, but Aaron knew she understood what he had mean’t. And it was at that point he grabbed Eleanor’s hand. If Diane was ready to go, then they were too, they were only out here because of her anyway. “It’s time to go home, Honey,” and without another word he turned and started walking away. But not without Eleanor continuously squeezing his arm, trying to talk some sense into him, yet he just wouldn’t hear it. That day, Aaron had left Diane and his niece in the middle of the cemetery after sunset all alone to wait for her abusive boyfriend.

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MAY EIGHTEENTH， ２０１８

Aaron shouldn’t have unloaded like that, Diane didn’t need the weight of his trauma on top of hers, he felt bad, he really did but he just couldn’t shake her words. Albeit, he didn’t have many nice words to say either, feelings he didn’t even know he had until they came out of his mouth, but that didn’t change the lack of contact he had with Diane following. It had been almost a week since their last interaction and now he was sitting in Eleanor’s car trying to mentally prepare himself to walk inside the house. If it wasn’t for Eleanor explaining to him that Diane still wanted him to pick Scout up he probably would have told Bentley he’d just have to go by himself, but of course that made him nervous too. When he had gotten home that night Bentley asked how it had went, without much hesitation and still being upset over the situation, he simply explained that he and Diane had a falling out and left it at that. There were no extra details, no explanation about a letter, and certainly not him telling Bentley that he had left both his ex and daughter at the cemetery after hours.

Never the less, there he was, by himself, and as soon as he walked up the porch and as let himself in he called out “Diane, I'm here," but before she could respond he immediately took note of Scout’s giggling in the room nearby and followed the sound. The last time he had seen his niece she was crying over something he had done, uncle Aaron was always so happy when she was around, experiencing that must have been scary. So instead of giving his attention to Diane, who was standing only a few feet away, he crouched down beside his niece and gently pinched her cute little cheeks upon arrival. “Hey, sweetheart. Behaving?” He couldn’t help the way he smiled at her response, “Good,” she was talking so much these days. “Hey, how are you,” he asked as he got to his feet and stood there awkwardly, niceties that needed to be made but truth be told he just wanted to pick up Scout and head out.

[eggawoo]

　　　　　　　✧　D I A N E　M O R E A U　!

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LOCATION　home　━━━　　　COMPANY　scout & aaron　━━━


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Diane pulled her phone from her pocket, fingers cold and trembling. She hesitated for a moment, unsure whether to reach out. Milo would want to know what happened, but part of her didn't want to burden him with the mess she was in. Still, she couldn't stay here, not with Scout out in the cold.

Her thumbs moved faster than her thoughts as she typed:


　
i need you to pick me up from the cemetery. can you come?


She stared at the screen before hitting send, her heart sinking as the words felt like a cry for help. As she waited, the cold began to creep in, wrapping around her like an unwelcome blanket. The reality of being alone settled in, and she kept glancing down at Scout's stroller, her little one's cries cutting through the still evening air. When the minutes stretched on and her phone remained still, Diane finally couldn't stand it anymore. She dialed Milo's number, the familiar sound of his voice giving her a brief sense of relief.

"Milo, I need you to pick me up," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "I'm at the cemetery, it's... it's bad. Can you come?"

Milo's voice was heavy with concern, tinged with apology, though there was little he could do in the moment. "Hey, I've been trying to make some calls, but it might take me up to an hour to get there, Diane. I didn't want to call the sitter this late on a Sunday night, especially since it's Mother's Day. But I reached out to Cherise, and she said she'd try to get back as soon as she can. Hang tight, alright?"

"Thanks," she muttered, her words strained with exhaustion and frustration. She hung up and stood there for a moment, the wind biting at her skin. The cemetery was eerily quiet, broken only by Scout's wails. Diane glanced down at her daughter, bundled up in the stroller, and the realization hit her: it was too cold. She couldn't let Scout stay out here.

The temperature seemed to drop faster than she realized. A sharp breath left her chest as she shifted the stroller, cupping her hands to capture what little warmth she could. As her eyes darted around for shelter, she spotted a small diner just beyond the cemetery gates. Without hesitating, she pushed the stroller toward it, her pace quickening with each step, seeking a bit of relief from the cold.

The diner was just about to close for the evening when Diane walked in, the bell above the door jingling softly. A kind, older woman behind the counter glanced up and immediately noticed the exhausted look on Diane's face and the toddler in the stroller, her heart softening at the sight of them. "We'll stay open a little longer for you," the woman said, offering a gentle smile. "Just making sure you're not out there alone, sweetheart. Grab a seat, I'll fix you something warm."

Diane nodded gratefully, her breath catching in her throat as she took a seat, the warmth of the diner wrapping around her like a blanket. She didn't care about the food, really. She just needed the space, the time to let her body relax—if only for a moment. But the woman was true to her word, sending Diane off with a couple of sandwiches and some soup, packed neatly in paper bags, before her ride arrived.

When Milo pulled up to the curb, his headlights cutting through the darkness, Diane let out a heavy sigh, relieved to finally be leaving. As soon as she climbed into the passenger seat, she could feel the flood of emotions coming back. She wanted to keep it together, to hold it all in, but the weight of the day—everything Aaron had said, everything that was left unsaid—pushed her to the edge. Her shoulders tensed, her fists clenched at her sides as the tears welled up, angry tears that she couldn't contain anymore.

"Milo..." her voice cracked. "He... he just—he doesn't get it. He thinks he has all the answers, but it's just so damn unfair. Why does he get to make the decisions for everyone? He doesn't know what it's like. It's... it's like he thinks I'm the problem. Like I'm the one who ruined everything... and I didn't—"

Milo didn't have the context, not really. He didn't know the extent of what had just happened, didn't understand the depth of the fight, but she could feel him there beside her, wanting to help, wanting to be the one to fix things. He didn't know what to say, but he was trying to be there, trying to hold her together, even if he didn't have the right words.

Her voice broke as she let out a sob, shaking her head in frustration. Milo's hand reached out, giving her a gentle squeeze on the thigh, but it didn't stop the floodgate of emotions from pouring out. She turned away from him, burying her face in her hands as the hot tears ran freely now. The relief of having someone there, someone who wasn't judging her, was the only thing keeping her from completely falling apart.

"He... he left us there. He just left us at the cemetery," she whispered, her voice cracking as she struggled to believe the words even as they left her lips. "And Scout's crying, and I couldn't even fix it, Milo. I just—God, I'm so tired."

Milo didn't say anything for a long moment. He just kept driving, letting her vent. He knew this was more than just what had happened today; it was the weight of years spent holding everything together, of constantly trying to make everyone else's world okay while hers was falling apart. And deep down, he couldn't help but wonder if he was just another weight on her shoulders, another person leaning on her when she already had too much to carry.

"You're doing the best you can, Di," Milo finally said, his voice steady. "You've been doing that your whole life. And I don't think you need anyone's permission to feel the way you feel. You're allowed to be angry. You're allowed to be tired."

Diane wiped at her face, sniffling as she stared out the window, her voice barely a whisper. "I just don't know what to do anymore."

"You don't have to have all the answers right now. Just take it one step at a time. You're not alone in this, alright?"

She nodded, leaning back in the seat, her exhaustion finally catching up with her as they drove home, the weight of the night beginning to ease off her shoulders.



━━━　　T　I　M　E　　S　K　I　P　　━━━



Diane didn't even look up when Aaron walked in, her attention fixed on stirring the pot in front of her. The familiar sound of Scout's giggles filled the air, and Diane found it impossible to keep the irritation from bubbling up, despite the warmth they brought her. She had spent the last week stewing over everything that had happened—the things Aaron had said, the way he had left her stranded. It all felt like a sick joke now, the way he'd told her he wasn't getting involved anymore. 'As if he'd ever really been involved.' The most he'd done in years was stand by while everything fell apart, and now, suddenly, he was making demands. "Stay away from Bentley." She almost scoffed at the memory.

Her cousin's voice echoed in her mind: "What happened with Aaron? You didn't seem too happy to see him." Cherise's questions had been too pointed, too prying. Diane had tried to brush it off, told her it was just a stupid argument—one that was none of her business—but Cherise wasn't having it. It hadn't helped that Diane was still snot-nosed and red-eyed when she arrived home. She could see the concern on Cherise's face, and she hated the pity behind it.

It was a small comfort, then, when Eleanor at least reached out, apologizing for how things went down and trying to smooth over the mess they had made. Diane hadn't expected Aaron to even apologize, but hearing that Eleanor had tried to get him to wait until Milo arrived to pick her up, it made something inside Diane ache. It made her feel even smaller somehow. She had also mentioned to Eleanor that she'd still like them to pick up Scout, heavily implying that she wanted her to be there too.

The sound of Aaron's voice interrupted her thoughts, and she felt the tension creep into her muscles. He was standing in the doorway, awkwardly. She could tell by the way he hesitated, the same uncertainty that had been there ever since they'd last spoken. Diane let the silence stretch for a beat too long, unwilling to break it, before responding with a voice that felt too flat as she turned to glance at him over her shoulder.

"Eleanor didn't come with you?" she asked, keeping her tone neutral, though the question hung heavy in the air. She didn't know why she asked it—maybe it was just the reminder that there was someone who, at least, seemed to care. Or maybe it was just easier to be disappointed in him than to admit how much she'd hoped that, this time, he'd actually be there for her. She was surprised, too—surprised that, despite everything Milo had put her through, he'd still shown up for her when Aaron hadn't.

She hesitated, then forced herself to answer his earlier question. "I'm fine. And you?" The words felt hollow, polite, as though she was just filling the silence between them. She didn't give him a chance to answer before turning back to the stove, focusing on the simple act of stirring—anything to keep from looking him in the eye. What was she expecting from him anyway? An apology? For him to admit he'd messed up? Or just for him to pretend they hadn't both said things that would stick with them long after this conversation was over?

The discomfort lingered thick in the air, and Diane could almost feel it closing in around her. The kitchen felt smaller than it should, as if there was no room for the distance between them. A week hadn't been enough time to make the words less painful. So, she focused on Scout, who was happily scattered on the kitchen floor, her toys strewn around her, as though nothing in the world could be wrong.

"How's work been?" she asked, the words coming out before she could stop them. It felt like a stupid question, something to fill the silence, but it was the only thing she could think to say. And she certainly wasn't going to talk about anything that mattered.


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THOUGHTS　'why does this feel like the same damn fight, just with less words?'　━━━

_______________________________
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[c u p p ii e]

xxxxx




MAY EIGHTEENTH， ２０１８

Truth be told, Aaron didn’t know what to expect from Diane when he showed up but her asking for Eleanor was the least of his expectations. “No, she had a work meeting with her publisher,” a bit irritated that that was the small talk she wanted to make. Eleanor hardly came with him, it confused him why she asked, but he didn’t care enough to question it. Instead, he let it go and answered her follow up question, “Decent,” albeit his response was short. He didn’t really know how to answer the question to be honest, “decent” truly was the most accurate depiction as of late. Bentley was still upset with him, cold shoulder, but that’s how he always was and Aaron was tired of fighting it. Maybe, Diane was right, only having to worry about himself and being able to shut his brain down would be a breath of fresh air, as long as Bentley stayed out of serious trouble. But of course, he’d never admit any of that to Diane, not now, not ever.

He shook the thought away, “Works been getting busier, schools out for a lot of kids which means parents need their coffee,” and just like that the room got quiet again, especially when neither of them tried to extend the conversation. There was no doubt that he took note of the way that Diane never once looked at him since he had arrived in the room, and that was when he mentally asked himself why either of them were even bothering. “Speaking of kids and parents, we should head out,” he turned his attention back to his niece before crouching down and talking to her again. “Ready to go see your dad, cutie?” his heart automatically warming to the idea that Scout genuinely seemed excited to spend time with Bentley. Because of Mother’s Day it had been a little longer than usual but at least Scout’s visit at his place was extended this time because of it. “Bentley’s waiting on us,” he said almost as if he was asking permission before he just picked Scout up and walked away with her, without actually having to ask.

Before she could even respond, the three of them heard the front door open, all of them now looking in the direction only to see Milo take his place in the kitchen with them. After what Eleanor had told him, any last bit of respect he had for Milo had completely disappeared. He had always thought he was a little off, but now knowing that he was verbally and emotionally abusive to Diane only made him think of his dirtbag father and that was enough. “Good to see that you two are still together,” but that wasn’t his problem anymore, Diane had obviously made her choice. “Wasn’t sure after she spent the night at my place the other day,” it was at that moment he decided to pick Scout up and look back over at Diane, no longer asking for permission and forcing her took over at him. “You caught us on our way out, good to see you as always, Milo,” his voice now void of all niceties, deciding it was actually time to leave. Bentley really was waiting for Scout back at the house. Aaron was sure of it, because for the first time in days, Bentley had been home for the majority of it.

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MAY TWENTY-THIRD， ２０１８

When Aaron had gotten back he had thought about it all night, so much so that he allowed it to be the pillow talk between him and Eleanor before they had fallen asleep.Yet, nothing had changed over the span of half a week and Scout needed to get back to her mother. “Alright, I’m going to go drop Scout back off, I’ll be back in a bit,” Aaron had just grabbed his coat, throwing the denim over his shoulders only for Bentley to suddenly stop. “She’s doing this on purpose,” he responded, mostly to himself, but the moment Bentley acknowledged it he shook his head. “Nothing, sounds good, be safe.” and as soon as Bentley walked out the door, his resolve escaped as he squeezed the kitchen counter in frustration. All Aaron could do was stand there and tell himself that this was because she didn’t want to see him and not that he had pushed her into wanting to see Bentley.

[c u p p ii e]

xx𝗯𝗲𝗻𝘁𝗹𝗲𝘆 𝗷𝗮𝗰𝗼𝗯 𝗵𝗮𝗹𝗲










𝗮𝗽𝗿𝗶𝗹 𝘁𝘄𝗲𝗻𝘁𝘆 𝘀𝗲𝗰𝗼𝗻𝗱, 𝟐𝟎𝟏𝟖

“Aaron, Honey, I need you to listen to me. Milo, he’s manipulating Diane and it’s not healthy. I know you don’t want to get involved but as someone who’s like an older brother, please I think you should say something?”

““I’ll talk to her the next time I see her”

Bentley overheard the conversation, after arguing with Aaron he had spent most of the day out of the house and had returned in the evening just in time to be on the receiving end. If it were possible, Bentley knew he could grind his teeth into dust with how hard he was clenching his jaw and yet he couldn’t do a damn thing about it. Instead, he opened the door fully, placing his skateboard at the entry way and walking past the two who were now starring at him from the kitchen. “I’m back, don’t wait up. I’m heading to bed, didn’t sleep much last night,” and just like that he excused himself to shower where he spent forty-five minutes or so talking himself down from going back over to the house and putting Milo in his place. If that’s what Diane wanted, then he wasn’t able to stop her, no matter how much he wanted too.


𝗺𝗮𝘆 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝗿𝘁𝗲𝗲𝗻𝘁𝗵, 𝟮𝟬𝟭𝟴


tab to diane 🌸💙


tab happy mothers day, diane. Scout's already so much like you, i see it in her mannerisms all the time. hopefully it stays that way, our daughter deserves to have a happy heart and to learn love and kindness. the worlds too cruel of a place, and you continue to show Scout that there will always be good in the bad if you just look hard enough. i always felt that from Isabella too, and i think maybe asking for Scout to have her name was me hoping that she'd turn out like her too. tab delivered at 5:41am



tab thank you for being there when i couldn't, and in turn i'm sorry for not being there enough. but i promise neither of us will ever have to worry if she'll ever be loved enough or cared for enough because i can safely say that Scout is all of those things. tab delivered at 5:41am



tab Isabella would be proud. tell her i said hi and happy mothers day too tab delivered at 5:42am




𝗺𝗮𝘆 𝘁𝘄𝗲𝗻𝘁𝘆-𝘁𝗵𝗶𝗿𝗱, 𝟮𝟬𝟭𝟴

Bentley spent most of the day on edge, until it was finally time to rip the band aid off. “Stay, I’ll take her home today,” yesterday evening, Bentley had been minding his business when he received a concerning text from Diane saying that he had to come pick up Scout himself from here on out if he wanted to see his daughter. Bentley would be lying if he said that text hadn’t put a stone in his stomach, the two of them hadn’t talked since the night of her birthday, and much longer before that, not sharing two words the following day given the circumstances. So the change in behavior was confusing to say the least, even more so with Aaron’s response, and even more so because he still had no clue what had even happened between the two of them on Mother's Day.

It took him all of two seconds before a crease was pressed into his forehead, “Alright, I’m heading out,” now concerned over what the ******** he was even talking about. Aaron had been acting so weird since Mother’s Day, he could hardly explain it. Bentley was still upset about how his brother handled Diane staying over, but the Aaron that was seen on that day with Diane was no where to be found anymore. He was so removed and so unlike him to the point where Bentley knew that what was dubbed as a falling out had to be more than just that. He wanted answers, so much so that when Eleanor asked for himself and Scout to go on hike with her and Aaron a few days ago, he solely agreed so he could speak to Eleanor about it. And yet the only response he received was that Aaron would talk to him when he was ready, and honestly hardly spoke a handful or words to his brother that day.

But Bentley was ready now, especially if it had to do with Scout and maybe Diane would be easier to talk to. He was about to find out, but first he had to find Diane, setting scout down on her little feet when they had gotten to the house, carrying her more than halfway. “Scout, where’s your mom?” he asked as if she’d know, almost as if he was trying to buy himself more time by not looking for her. But time was up, Diane must have been waiting for them because she rounded the corner shortly after. Bentley was about to open his mouth, ask her how she was or maybe ask about her day, but suddenly all thoughts leading up to this moment were forgotten. He couldn’t explain this discomfort he was feeling and whether it was just him or if she was feeling it too. Last month when they had talked at Aaron’s place he had been so open and honest with her, explaining things to her that sometimes didn’t even make sense to him, and now she stood opposite of him starring at him as if she had no idea who he was.

[eggawoo]

　　　　　　　✧　D I A N E　M O R E A U　!

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LOCATION　home　━━━　　　COMPANY　scout & bentley　━━━


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Diane's grip tightened on the edge of the counter the moment Aaron spoke, her mind blanking for a second as his words hung in the air. "Wasn't sure after she spent the night at my place the other day." It wasn't just the words—it was the way he said them, so casual, so utterly careless, as if he didn't realize the bomb he'd just dropped into the conversation. Or worse, as if he did and just didn't care.

A single, offhanded sentence scattering the fragile calm she'd been clinging to all week. Her heart plummeted, dread coiling in her stomach like a living thing. That night. The one she and Milo hadn't talked about, the one she'd carefully avoided revisiting because Eleanor had run interference, smoothing over the edges just enough to keep things from spiraling. Now, though, Aaron had ripped the lid off like it was nothing, throwing it in front of Milo with the force of a flash flood.

She hadn't told Milo about that night—not because she was hiding anything, but because it hadn't felt worth reopening the wound. They'd been doing better—laughing more, talking about something other than Scout or work—and she hadn't wanted to shatter that fragile progress. The memory of his anger when she'd finally come home that morning still lingered in the back of her mind, a ghost she'd been desperately trying to outrun. But now, thanks to Aaron, it was all crumbling anyway.

Her pulse thundered in her ears, drowning out the rest of Aaron's words. She felt the shift immediately—the weight of Milo's gaze boring into her as he processed what Aaron had just said. She didn't dare look at him. She didn't have to. The silence in the room was louder than Aaron's departure ever could have been, charged with unspoken accusations and the kind of tension that made her want to crawl out of her skin.

Diane didn't know how she managed to keep herself composed until Aaron was out the door. It felt like the longest goodbye of her life, every second dragging on as she forced herself to meet Aaron's eyes without betraying the swirl of emotions threatening to drag her under. Her jaw ached from clenching it so tightly, and her fingers itched to slam the door behind him, but instead, she let him leave as if he hadn't just detonated a bomb in her kitchen.


The moment the door closed, it was like a dam breaking.

Her hands clenched into fists at her sides, the sharp edges of her nails digging into her palms. She could feel the weight of Milo's gaze before she even looked up, his expression a mix of confusion, anger, and something sharper—something that twisted deep inside her, cutting in a way that left her breathless.

"What the hell was that, Diane?" His voice was calm, unnervingly calm, and she hated it.

The guilt hit first, followed closely by a flare of anger she couldn't quite suppress. "What was what?" she shot back, her voice sharper than she intended.

"Oh, don't play dumb," Milo said, his hand cutting through the air in a vague gesture toward the door, as if Aaron's presence still lingered in the room. "You spent the night at his place? And you didn't think that was worth mentioning?"

Her chest tightened, her pulse hammering in her throat. She opened her mouth to answer, to explain, but the words caught. "It wasn't like that!" Diane snapped finally, her voice rising as she took a step forward. The kitchen suddenly felt too small, the walls closing in around her, each breath tighter than the last. "You know it wasn't!"

"Do I?" Milo fired back, his calm demeanor cracking as his voice grew louder. "Because from where I'm standing, it doesn't look great, Diane."

Diane flinched at the accusation, even as she forced herself to stand her ground. She was so tired. Tired of being the one stuck in the middle. Tired of reassuring Milo that she was still his, no matter how much they fought. She hated that this was what their relationship had become—a constant battle to prove herself, even when she knew she had nothing to hide.

"Milo," she started, her voice softer now, though it trembled under the weight of her frustration, "you know me. You know I wouldn't—"

"Do I?" he repeated, cutting her off and shaking his head. "Because lately, Diane, I don't know what to think anymore."

Just as Diane opened her mouth to respond, the sound of footsteps echoed from the hallway, and Cherise's voice cut through the tension like a knife.

"Heeey, is everything alright in here?" Her tone was light, almost too light, as if she hadn't yet caught on to the charged atmosphere in the room.

Diane froze, the words she was about to say dying on her tongue. Her chest tightened, her breath momentarily stolen. Cherise stepped into the kitchen, glancing between her and Milo, her brow furrowing as she read the room. The silence thickened in her wake, charged with unspoken things.

Cherise blinked once, then twice, her eyes narrowing slightly as she looked at them both. "What's going on?" she asked, her voice steady but probing, taking a half-step closer while she waited for one of them to speak up.

Diane opened her mouth, but the words died there, choked by the weight of Milo's silent stare. Her pulse hammered in her ears, and the room suddenly felt too heavy. The last thing Diane wanted was for Cherise to get tangled in this mess, but here they were—trapped in a moment too big for her to handle.

Cherise's eyes flicked between her and Milo, her expression hardening with concern. "Seriously, you guys," she said, crossing her arms in that protective, no-nonsense way she always did when something wasn't right. "What's going on?"

Diane's breath hitched. She had never been good at hiding things, especially not from Cherise. The pressure in her chest built with every unspoken word between them, frustration and guilt coiling tighter with each beat of her heart. She wanted to scream, to make everything right, but her throat felt tight, as if the words were lodged there, unwilling to leave. Diane bit her lip hard, trying to keep herself from falling apart. Milo's silence was a weight on her shoulders, reminding her of everything she couldn't fix. For a moment, everything felt too big. She couldn't fix it now, not like this. How could she?

Cherise's gaze softened, but her concern was sharp as ever. "You don't have to tell me what happened," she said gently, her tone shifting, though the protective edge remained. "But I know something's wrong. You guys aren't fooling anyone."

Diane's chest tightened further, her throat thick with the effort to keep herself together. The weight of everything, all the unspoken things, crashed over her. She wanted to make everything okay, but the pressure of it all felt unbearable. Her heart sank, the familiar ache of wanting to fix everything for everyone else crashing over her like a wave. She glanced at Milo, but his gaze felt like a distant judgment—unforgiving, waiting for her to fix it. The uncertainty gnawed at her insides.

The lump in her throat threatened to choke her, and the hot sting of tears pressed behind her eyes. She fought them back, swallowing hard, but the weight of it all was suffocating. She didn't have the energy for this—not today. Not now. She didn't have the words either, just a swirling mess of frustration, guilt, and anger. She couldn't explain it to Cherise, not when she couldn't even explain it herself.

The moment stretched on, heavy with unsaid things, until it was clear that the conversation wouldn't go anywhere. Slowly, Diane pushed away from the counter, her legs shaky, her voice low but steady. "I need some air."

The words hung in the air like a fragile plea for space, an unspoken admission that she couldn't be here, not like this. Without waiting for a response, she turned, her body moving on autopilot as if putting distance between herself and the confrontation was the only thing that made sense.

Milo didn't stop her. Cherise didn't ask any more questions.

And for a long while, the only sound that filled the house was the quiet shuffle of Diane's steps as she walked away, the silence amplifying the distance between them all, leaving behind an emptiness that felt too wide to cross.





━━━　　T　I　M　E　　S　K　I　P　　━━━



It felt like she'd been floating in a haze when she sent the text to Bentley. It had been impulsive, one of those messages typed out in a surge of emotion before she even realized her period was coming. She hadn't thought about how Bentley would react—or how Aaron would explode once he found out. Her thumbs had moved almost on their own, writing and sending the message before her brain could fully process the fallout.


　
you want to see scout? fine. but you can pick her up and drop her off from now on. no more middleman. it's between you and me from here on out.


Her finger hovered over the send button for too long, but she hit it anyway. Maybe because she wanted to piss off Aaron, or maybe because she didn't care enough to think about what it could do. Aaron's warning still rang in her head—stay away from Bentley—but in that moment, she didn't care. Let him be mad. He'd already turned her life into a battlefield; what difference would one more fight make?



━━━　　T　I　M　E　　S　K　I　P　　━━━



Diane leaned against the kitchen counter, her head bowed, eyes squeezed shut as she pressed a palm to her stomach. The cramps rolled through her in waves, dull and unrelenting, their rhythm a constant reminder of her body's betrayal. It was the first day of her period—an unwelcome surprise, considering she hadn't had one in months thanks to her condition. The timing felt cruel, like her body had decided to betray her just as everything else was spinning out of control.

The oversized t-shirt she'd grabbed that morning hung loose on her frame, the neckline slipping off one shoulder, and her messy bun sagged to the side, strands falling haphazardly around her face. She'd barely managed to pull on a pair of sweats before tackling the day, but her reflection in the microwave door looked worse for wear. Puffy eyes, tear-streaked cheeks, and dark circles that made her look like she hadn't slept in days. She probably hadn't.

The ache in her body seemed to mirror the ache in her chest—a heaviness that had been building all week. Between the accusations from Milo, the tension with Aaron, and the mess of everything that was supposed to be simple, she felt like she was suffocating. She'd even sent Milo home early, unable to tolerate his presence any longer. After he left, she'd cried, her tears feeling like a last-ditch effort to purge everything she couldn't keep bottled up. But even then, it hadn't been enough to wash away the frustration, the guilt, or the anger clawing at her insides.

'God, I must look ridiculous,' she thought, her mouth twitching in a humorless smirk before fading. But she didn't have the energy to care.

She pressed a hand to her forehead, wiping at sweat that wasn't there, before moving it back to her stomach as another cramp twisted through her. She'd taken a Midol earlier, but the relief hadn't kicked in yet, leaving the dull ache in her body to amplify everything else that already felt unbearable.

Her eyes drifted to the journal sitting on the counter—the journal she'd grabbed by mistake when she stayed over at Bentley's last month. It had been stuffed onto the top shelf of the cupboard for weeks, forgotten in the chaos of her life. But with Bentley stopping by today, she'd pulled it down, intending to hand it back. Simple, easy.

At least, that was the plan. But when the journal slipped from her hands and opened to a page she didn't expect, she wished she hadn't bothered.

The pages she found weren't what she thought. Poetry. Romantic poetry. The words were so sweet, so tender, that at first, she felt a warmth, a flicker of something she didn't want to name. She thought—hoped—they were about her. But that warmth quickly soured as her mind twisted the words into something else. She wasn't the only one Bentley could be writing about.

Eden. It had to be about Eden. The girl who clung to Bentley like a second shadow. The one he swore wasn't his girlfriend, though Diane wasn't blind. She saw the way Eden hovered, the way she posted about him, tagged him, mentioned him at every opportunity. And now these poems, dripping with affection, felt like proof that Diane had been wrong to believe Bentley when he said there was nothing there.

Every moment between Diane and Bentley—every late-night conversation, every time he stood too close—felt like a cruel joke now. Like she'd been letting herself believe in something that was never real.

Her chest tightened, the bitterness rising in her throat. It wasn't fair. Bentley always had something to say about her relationship with Milo, about her choices, her priorities. But when it came to his life, Diane stayed out of it. She didn't poke or prod. She let him live how he wanted, even when it didn't make sense to her. And this—this was how he repaid her?

Her fingers clenched around the journal, frustration bubbling to the surface. She didn't want to be holding it anymore, didn't want to think about it, but the anger had already taken root, festering beneath her skin.

When Bentley knocked on the door, she was ready to snap.

"Where the hell have you been, Bentley?" Diane's voice cracked as she stormed toward him, the journal clutched tightly in her hand. She couldn't pretend things were okay when every part of her was raw, bruised by everything that had happened recently. The ache in her chest mirrored the sting of Aaron's words, still fresh in her mind, echoing like a taunt. And now Bentley stood there, looking like nothing had changed, asking questions as if everything was normal. He was just another reminder of how impossible it felt to trust anyone.

Every little detail pressed in on her chest, making it hard to breathe. The weight of her period sat in her body like an anchor, dragging her deeper into a mood she couldn't escape. She was tired—so ******** tired—of trying to hold everything together, of pretending she wasn't falling apart at the seams.

"You're gonna stand there like nothing's wrong when you've got all this—" She waved the journal in the air, her anger surging like a mountain storm. "What, you think I wouldn't see it? The poems? The ones about Eden?" Bentley's brow furrowed, but she didn't let him speak. The words poured out of her, sharp and bitter. "You always have something to say about me and Milo, but I've kept my mouth shut about you. I've let you live your life, do whatever the hell you want, and for what? So you can write this and expect me not to say a damn thing?"

Without thinking, she hurled the journal at his chest. It hit with a dull thud before falling to the floor between them, the pages fluttering slightly before settling. "You don't get to judge me, Bentley. You don't get to stand there and act like you're better than me when you're doing... whatever this is." Her voice cracked on the last word, but she pressed on, her anger a freight train she couldn't stop. "You're gonna ask me about Scout, but what about everything else, huh? What about the things you've done? The things you haven't told me?"

Frustration continued to surge through her, building until it felt like she might explode. Her head throbbed, a dull ache in rhythm with the chaos inside her. The anger from her fight with Aaron was still burning in her chest, and Bentley's presence was like gasoline on the fire.

"Aaron gave me my mom's suicide note, Bentley," she said, her voice trembling. "Just dropped it on me with no warning and left me in the damn cemetery. Just left me there. Alone. With Scout." Her voice wavered as the memories resurfaced, but the weight of her emotions only fueled her fury, driving her words forward like a rushing river through the Rockies. "And then he goes and tells Milo about the night I stayed over a month ago, and Milo blew up at me for it. That's how I get treated. That's how you all treat me!"

Her body trembled, her voice cutting like a knife as anger and hurt tangled together. She was shaking now, but she didn't stop. Couldn't.

"And then you... you sent me those texts on Mother's Day. You said, 'I always felt that from Isabella too.'" Her breath hitched, and this time, she couldn't stop the tears from spilling over. They streaked her cheeks as she wiped at them angrily, but the emotions clawing at her refused to be silenced. "You were talking about my mom. It's been eating at me all week, Bentley. Did you know? Did you know about the suicide? Because it sounds like you did. And you've never said anything. You've never once told me."

Her voice cracked, and the weight of the week pressed down harder, the exhaustion and frustration from her period leaving her raw. The dam broke, and tears came freely now, spilling over as she tried to hold herself together. But her composure was slipping through her fingers like sand. She stared at him through tear-blurred eyes, her voice shaking but steady enough to demand answers. "And I'm just supposed to take that as a coincidence, right?"

Her chest heaved as she tried to catch her breath, her tears soaking into the answer and grief in her words. She didn't wait for a response—her pain demanded more. "I don't get it, Bentley," she spat, the rawness in her voice cutting like glass. "I don't get what you all want from me. I don't get why I'm the one who's always left in the dark. What the hell do you guys want from me?" She pressed the heels of her hands against her eyes, trying to will away the tears that kept falling. But they came faster now, pulled by the gravity of everything she'd been holding back.

"And you..." Her voice broke again, and she shook her head, her trembling hand gesturing toward him. "You want to be like Aaron too? Just leave when it suits you? Fine. Because I sure as hell don't want you here if you are." Her breath hitched as she rubbed at her face, smearing the tears across her skin instead of wiping them away. She knew how she must look to Bentley—chaotic, disheveled, emotional—but she couldn't stop now. The words came too fast, a flood she couldn't hold back.

"I mean, look at me," she choked out, gesturing at herself with an awkward laugh that caught in her throat. "I don't even have it together enough to look human today, and I'm still supposed to deal with all this? With you and Aaron and Milo, like I'm some kind of... referee?" Her shoulders slumped, and she took in a sharp breath, feeling the weight of her exhaustion settle deeper. "I can't do this anymore. I can't keep being the one who tries to fix it all while everyone else just... just makes it worse. I'm tired, Bentley. I'm so tired."

The weight of her own words felt like a truth she'd been avoiding, one that hit her harder than anything he could have said. For a moment, the only sound in the room was her ragged breathing, the quiet threatening to suffocate her as she waited for something—anything—from him.


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THOUGHTS　'why does it always have to be me who gets left to deal wiith everything alone?'　━━━

_______________________________
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[c u p p ii e]

xx𝗯𝗲𝗻𝘁𝗹𝗲𝘆 𝗷𝗮𝗰𝗼𝗯 𝗵𝗮𝗹𝗲









𝗺𝗮𝘆 𝘁𝘄𝗲𝗻𝘁𝘆-𝘁𝗵𝗶𝗿𝗱, 𝟮𝟬𝟭𝟴

The two of them hadn’t had a sober conversation in God know’s how long, Bentley honestly couldn’t recount a time where at least one of them weren’t under the influence and with the way Diane was acting he couldn’t help but ask if this was one of those times too? “Diane are you—,” he started but she left him no room to speak once she started. Immediately it was accusation after accusation, question after question, each one being more ludicrous than the last. Bentley couldn’t help grow more angry as they came out, only leaving him to stand there and take it, getting in a few words here and there when she would allow it.

Bentley wanted to give her the benefit of the doubt, who was he to know what she was going through, he purposely walked away two months ago after she made it very clear to him that Milo was what she wanted, after lying to him, after leading him on, but that was enough to add fuel to the fire in this already inferno. “At least Eden has never cheated on me,” the statement came out without a thought, it was easier than telling her the truth, but Bentley immediately regretted saying it. Quickly adding on, “Give me the book back, Diane,” upset that she even had it, focusing on that instead. Bentley had been looking for it for days, worried that Aaron had gotten his hands on it, only to find out it was left to a worser fate.

The book struck his chest and yet he hardly paid any attention to it or the fact that Scout had picked it up and was now trying to give it to him. Bentley couldn’t think, he could only hear the words Isabella and suicide and the world shifted beneath his feet. “Diane, how would I know that?” the perfect image of Isabella suddenly shattering, she always seemed so put together, but so did Diane, and that’s when it dawned on him. Isabella always seemed so perfect but who’s to say that she wasn’t falling apart like Diane was in front of him right this second. Not everyone was a train wreck like him, from to start to finish. “Why would Aaron know that? Why did he have the letter?” and suddenly the falling out had made much morse sense. Bentley shook his head again, “No, Diane, I didn’t know about it,” but at least she had written a letter. Bentley was going to go with no notice and nothing to leave behind except his shitty attitude and poor decisions.

“But I did mean every word I sent in those texts,” so her saying that he was going to leave upset him even more, especially after being so vulnerable. It was as if she was only taking what she wanted from the messages and disregarding everything else. “The only thing I want from you—,” he paused, hesitating for a moment unsure of what the actual answer was, “Is to help me make sure that Scout is taken care of and never doubts how much we both love her,” his tone softening at the mention of their daughter. At the end of the day, Bentley never knew what it was like to have loving parents. Diane did, at least with Isabella, which was why he needed Diane by his side when it came to Scout and he was no longer willing to push and lose that for his daughter.

“No one is asking you to be the middle person, you made your choices and we’ve all respected them, or at the very least I've tried—” he sucked in a deep breath, the hurt he was feeling settling deep into his bones. “And you won't let me. So anything beyond that isn’t my problem unless it pertains to Scout,” and just like that, like clockwork, Scout started crying as if she knew they were talking about her. Bentley was unsure how long she had been pulling at his pant leg, or how long her arms had been raised with his journal in hand, what he did know was that his daughter was now red faced and tear stricken and just like that the atmosphere around him shattered.

Immediately, he crouched down and grabbed the journal from her, disregarding it on the floor beside him before he leaned in and wiped her tears. “It’s okay, love bug, I’m sorry,” he said as he leaned in and hugged her, picking her up as she clung to his neck. Bentley stood there like that for a long moment, running soothing circles over Scout’s back, before he took a deep breathe and looked up at Diane after looking at the ground for far too long. “I think we both need some fresh air,” his tone now neutral as he finally got to his feet with Scout still in his arms. “Is Milo around,” he asked before he realized how that sounded. “To watch the kids while were out,” Bentley took the opportunity to look away, pulling Scout away from his neck to check on her. He gently pushed her curls behind her ear and kissed her cheek while he waited.

[eggawoo]

　　　　　　　✧　D I A N E　M O R E A U　!

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LOCATION　home　⇨　on a walk outside　━━━　　　COMPANY　scout & bentley　━━━


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Diane's gaze flicked to Scout as the toddler's cries broke through Bentley's words, cutting through the tension between them and forcing her attention back to the present. Her heart ached at the sight of their daughter's flushed face, tears streaking her cheeks as her tiny hands tugged desperately at Bentley's pant leg. Until now, she hadn't even noticed Scout there, and guilt knotted in her stomach as he crouched down to comfort her. He gently scooped the journal from Scout's hands, setting it aside before pulling her into his arms and wiping away her tears. His voice softened, familiar and soothing, as he murmured reassurances. Diane's throat tightened as she watched, each moment awakening something delicate and unspoken within her.

The scene hit Diane like a splash of cold water, jolting her out of her swirling emotions. Her own tear-streaked cheeks burned hot, a sharp contrast to the chill that seemed to settle in the room. She raised a hand to wipe away the lingering wetness, her movements hurried and self-conscious. She wished it were Bentley's hand brushing away her tears, steady and tender, the way he comforted Scout. The thought stirred something in her—an ache, perhaps, or a longing—but it was fleeting, quickly swallowed by the weight of everything else.

Leaning against the doorframe, Diane pressed the other hand to her lower abdomen, where the presistent ache had finally begun to ease. The Midol she'd taken earlier was finally taking effect, dulling the sharpest edges of her discomfort, though it did little to quiet the deeper ache in her chest. The hand she'd used to wipe away her tears dropped to her side, her fingers brushing against the doorframe as if grounding herself. Her lips parted, but no words came; instead, she let Bentley take the lead, letting the moment anchor them both.

When Bentley spoke to her, Diane took in his words with a shallow nod. She caught the slight stumble in his question about Milo, how quickly he corrected himself, and the way his attention shifted back to Scout. The tenderness with which he smoothed Scout's curls and kissed her cheek resonated deeply with Diane, leaving her feeling exposed—an emotion too tangled to unravel in the moment.

She pushed off the doorframe, gesturing vaguely toward the kitchen. "l'll text Cherise, see if she can come downstairs," she murmured, her voice quiet. Turning away, she avoided Bentley's gaze, her focus already shifting to the next task. "Milo's not home," she added after a beat, a simple statement meant to assure him. It was the most she could offer without unraveling further.

Once in the kitchen, Diane grabbed her phone from the counter, the screen lighting up with a few missed messages from Cherise:


　
is everything ok downstairs? i know scout's being dropped off today


　
are you ok?


As Diane began typing her message, another message popped up:


　
❓❓


Diane sighed, her thumb hesitating over the keyboard. After a brief pause, she typed back:


　
everything's ok. we'll talk later. i'm going out for a bit, can you watch the kids?


She sent the message and waited. The response came almost instantly:


　
👍🏻


Diane slipped the phone into her sweats pocket, Cherise's quick reply freeing her to leave without hesitation. With one less thing to worry about, she turned back toward the foyer, her shoulders squared despite the exhaustion etched into her expression. For now, she had to focus on whatever this walk with Bentley would bring.

"We can go," Diane said, her voice hoarse but firm enough. The idea had been Bentley's first, but now the thought of a walk lingered in the air—practical, tempting, and perhaps a way to shift the momentum of the conversation or avoid it entirely. She needed air, space to think, to breathe.

Bentley nodded, still holding Scout, whose small hands clung tightly to his collar. Diane stepped past him, pulling the stroller from its spot near the wall. "You can keep holding her," she said softly, glancing over her shoulder, "but we'll bring this, just in case." She parked the stroller by the door, then grabbed her jacket from the nearby hook. The fabric was cool in her hands as she shrugged it on, the steady motion grounding her. Adjusting the collar, she turned back to Bentley, her movements brisk but not unkind. "Ready?"

The air outside held the cool promise of the approaching night, the late-May sun hanging low in the sky. Its golden light spilled across the neighborhood in fractured beams, filtered through the budding leaves of towering oaks. Diane pushed the stroller with a firm grip, her thoughts drifting between Scout's soft murmurs and the rhythmic crunch of gravel underfoot.

The breeze picked up as they walked, tugging gently at Diane's hair. She cleared her throat, stealing a glance at Bentley before fixing her eyes on the path ahead. "I'm sorry for snapping earlier," she murmured, the words reluctant but necessary. "It wasn't fair. I've just... it's been a lot lately." She cringed slightly, her stomach still a little tight from cramps, then added a half-hearted chuckle, "And, you know, getting my period didn't exactly make me a ray of sunshine today." The awkward joke fell flat even as she said it, but it was her attempt to lighten the mood, even if only a little.

She kept her gaze on the stroller, watching its wheels bump gently over cracks in the pavement. After a pause, she added in a quieter voice, "And the journal—I didn't mean to read it. I grabbed it by accident, and then..." She hesitated, the confession knotting her stomach. "I shouldn't have read it. I always meant to give it back to you, but… I haven't seen you or had a chance to talk to you since then." The weight of her words hung in the cooling air, though a flicker of relief came from having spoken them aloud.

Scout stirred in Bentley's arms, pulling at his shirt with a quiet whine. Diane glanced back at them, a faint smile tugging at her lips despite the tightness in her chest. "She's been the only thing keeping me sane," she said under her breath, the admission barely louder than the sound rustling of the evening around them.

Ahead, the tree-lined path stretched into the horizon, where the sky was painted in hues of amber and violet. Birds called faintly from the trees, their song weaving into the evening's quiet serenity. Diane kept her hands on the stroller, her steps measured, the world feeling softer out here as the tension of the day loosened its grip. For now, she focused on the rhythm of their walk, on Scout's small noises, and on the fading light painting the road before them. It wasn't peace—not yet—but it was a start.


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THOUGHTS　'i just need to keep moving, one step at a time—it's the only way i can breathe'　━━━

_______________________________
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[c u p p ii e]

xx𝗯𝗲𝗻𝘁𝗹𝗲𝘆 𝗷𝗮𝗰𝗼𝗯 𝗵𝗮𝗹𝗲









𝗺𝗮𝘆 𝘁𝘄𝗲𝗻𝘁𝘆-𝘁𝗵𝗶𝗿𝗱, 𝟮𝟬𝟭𝟴

Honestly, not much of a difference than how they had left at the house, Bentley deciding he would hold Scout, it would give him something to do especially while he was unsure where to start the impending conversation. It was quiet, so much so that he could actually hear the wind rustling through the trees, Bentley assuming they were both trying to gather their thoughts, as he gave Scout all of his attention and none to Diane. As they walked he spoke softly in Scout’s ear, responding when she would ask him something or when she wanted to show him something. Bentley was excited for this age, she was starting to get so vocal and she was already so smart, but he did hear something about terrible twos and a part of him could only hope that deep down inside of Scout, she wouldn’t start showing any early signs of his bad habits or attitude that would always be simmering under the surface for Bentley.

When Diane finally started to speak he nodded, appreciating the fact that she was apologizing because quite frankly Bentley firmly believed he didn’t deserve to be spoken to like that. There had been many instances in the past, but now was not one of those times. Instead, he simply nodded his head, refusing to make eye contact, even more so when she mentioned that she was starting to have her period again. Bentley knew that she hadn’t since Scout was born, her condition making it difficult for her body to balance out but maybe that was a good thing, maybe she was getting better. He thought to ask, but he reminded himself that it wasn’t his business, he promised that he would only ask questions from here on out that involved Scout, it was best that way.

But it seemed that Diane didn’t see it the same way, the irony wasn’t lost on him as she brought up his journal again. “I’ve seen you a handful of times, granted none of those times were sober,” he responded just as Scout started tugging on his shirt, almost as if she was jealous that she wasn’t the only person he was focused on. He couldn’t help but look down and smile at her, reassuringly, tickling her side with his free hand, her giggles making his heart sing. But that of course didn’t change the lingering tension in the air, no matter how much it had subsided since being back at the house. “I think this is the first conversation we’ve had where neither of us were on something in a really long time,” he paused and looked back over at Diane before asking, “Right?” finally asking what he initially was going too when he had arrived. The last thing Bentley wanted to do was have this conversation where one of them didn’t remember it, it seemed like it had been like that a lot as of late.

The moment she reassured him he nodded and then looked away, “You’re right though,” almost afraid where his next statement would lead them. “You shouldn’t have read it, that was unfair to me.” Bentley hardly wanted to get into it, but he needed Diane to forget any if all the things she had read no matter how much or little. “I’ve never read your journal, it’s the same thing,” it would save them both a whole lot of trouble if it stayed that way. He respected Diane far too much to do that to Diane anyway, no matter how many times she had carelessly left it out. Unlike Diane though, Bentley had always hidden his journal away, it wasn't mean't for anyone's eyes but his. He was more of an actions speak louder than words type of person, and when there was no way to put those actions into motion his thoughts would get tucked away into his journal so they would stop floating around in his head, if only for a little while.

Bentley would be lying if he said that he wasn't desperate to change the subject, almost thankful for the way Scout began to wiggle to get down now that Bentley was hardly paying her much attention. So he sat her down, allowed her to run off a few feet ahead but not far at all, especially not with all the cliffs and drops off nearby. He knew this area like the back of his hand, Diane probably did too, but Scout certainly did not, one day maybe he could change that, just not today. There was too much he was focused on otherwise, starting with, “What did you mean, back at the house, when you said Aaron had left you and Scout at the cemetery,” it couldn’t have sounded what it seemed like, it was so unlike Aaron, but then again Aaron had been acting so different and Bentley was unsure up to what point and where it was all coming from. As much as he was still upset with Aaron and how different pages they were on, this was his chance to finally understand.

[eggawoo]

　　　　　　　✧　D I A N E　M O R E A U　!

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LOCATION　on a walk　━━━　　　COMPANY　scout & bentley　━━━


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Diane blinked at Bentley's words, caught off guard by the realization. She hadn't even considered it until now—this was the first converstaion they'd had, just the two of them, without something muddying their heads in a long time. The thought made her stomach churn, fragments of hazy memories surfacing uninvited: the slurred exchanges, the way words had tangled into misunderstandings, the weight of things left unsaid or forgotten entirely because they were too impaired to hold onto them. Her cheeks warmed, embarrased by the truth of it.

She cleared her throat. "Right," she said, her voice quieter now. The word lingered between them, and Diane kept her eyes on the stroller's handles, her fingers tightening and loosening their grip.

When Bentley brought up the journal, she exhaled slowly through her nose. "It was an accident," she murmured, almost too low to hear. But then her shoulders slumped slightly, and the truth spilled out. "At first, I didn't mean to... but then..." She bit her lip, shaking her head. "Curiosity got the best of me." Her voice trailed off, heavy with regret, though she didn't look up to see Bentley's reaction.

Bentley shifted slightly, setting Scout down onto the ground where she immediately wiggled free, toddling a few feet ahead. She giggled as her tiny feet crunched against the gravel trail, her arms swinging out for balance.

And then he asked about Aaron.

Diane clicked her tongue, her jaw tightening as if she were physically biting back her first instinctive response. Her hands gripped the stroller's handlebar until her knuckles turned white, her chest tightening as the memory of that day came flooding back. She looked straight ahead, silent for a moment as her thoughts whirled.

Scout had stopped to inspect a pebble, crouching down to pick it up with a look of pure concentration. The innocence of her daughter's curiosity a stark contrast to the anger bubbling up within Diane. "He didn't tell you?" The question slipped out, half incredulous, half rhetorical, her voice sharp enough to cut through the quiet. Her gaze flicked to Bentley, studying his face for any hint that he might already know more than he let on. But of course, he didn't.

Diane scoffed softy, more to herself than at him, shaking her head as she looked away. "I can't believe him." Her words carried a simmering anger, restrained but unmistakable. She let out a bitter laugh, though there was no humor in it. "Scout was crying, and I—" She stopped, sucking in a sharp breath as she steadied herself. Her grip on the stroller loosened just slightly.

Ahead, Scout abandoned the pebble and waved a stick in the air triumphantly as though she'd discovered buried treasure. Diane's chest ached at the sight of her daughter, blissfully unaware of the turmoil her parents carried.

"Eleanor told me later she tried to stop him," Diane added, her voice quieter now but laced with bitterness. "She said she told him to wait until someone could pick us up, but he didn't listen. Didn't care. He just left." Her hands tightened on the handle again, the sting of that memory cutting deeper with each word. She intentionally avoided mentioning who was supposed to come for her, sidestepping the name in case it stirred up tension that neither of them needed right now. She also avoided bringing up the reason for the fight, which had partly been about Bentley—something still too raw to revisit.

She glanced up briefly to see Scout giggling as she spun in a circle with the stick. "It doesn't matter." The words fell out of her, heavy and final. She fell quiet again, the crunch of gravel underfoot filling the silence as her frustration hung in the air, amplified by the open space around them.

Diane's jaw clenched as she pushed the stroller forward, her steps firmer now. The walk had been helping—the fresh air and the relief from the Midol easing some of the tension in her body. She'd been regaining her composure after blowing up at Bentley earlier, but her emotions churned again, threatening to unravel the fragile calm she'd managed to reclaim. Her eyes flicked back to Scout, who had dropped the stick and now busied herself crouching to inspect a patch of dirt. At least she was distracted.

Diane didn't know if Bentley wanted to press further, but for her part, she wasn't sure she could say much more without letting the tight grip she had on herself slipping entirely.


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THOUGHTS　'just keep it together for scout'　━━━

_______________________________
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[c u p p ii e]

xx𝗯𝗲𝗻𝘁𝗹𝗲𝘆 𝗷𝗮𝗰𝗼𝗯 𝗵𝗮𝗹𝗲









𝗺𝗮𝘆 𝘁𝘄𝗲𝗻𝘁𝘆-𝘁𝗵𝗶𝗿𝗱, 𝟮𝟬𝟭𝟴

They were already off to a poor start, “He didn’t tell you,” was definitely not something he wanted to hear because that of course made things seem a lot worse than they had to be. The smart a** in Bentley wanted to remind her that he wouldn’t be asking if he did, instead he simply shook his head and kept his focus on Scout, carefully. But as she recounted the memory his stomach began to churn and he couldn’t help the way his temper began to flair at her confession. “It does matter,” he said without hesitation, his voice carrying that hostility. It was one thing to leave Diane out there, which wasn’t okay in the first place but Scout, Aaron did that to his daughter. “He stranded Scout, anything could have happened,” he would know, he was one of the low life’s that wandered the streets not long ago.

Bentley quickly took in a deep breathe, he was angry, really angry but he had to remind himself that it wasn’t Diane who he was upset with and more importantly the last thing he wanted was to make Scout cry again. “I’ll talk to him when I get back,” talk, yell, what ever, but he definitely would. It was then that he finally looked over at Diane who was suddenly quiet, Bentley paying no mind to Scout for the first time all morning. “Hey, I’m just as angry as you are,” he started, grabbing her hand without a thought so she would look at him. Immediately he regretted it but he was already here, “It won’t happen again, I promise,” and then he just starred at her, the electricity running down to his finger tips as their hands were the way they were. Jumping when Scout managed to wiggle her way in between the two of them, at what point she toddled over he was unsure. The only thing he did know was that Scout was also starring at Diane, now grabbing at her hand, and Bentley immediately let go so she could have it.

When the two had made it back to the house he set Scout down and opened the door for her, “Go find auntie Cherise, okay?” but not before kissing her round little cheeks again. The walk ended peacefully, thankfully, the both of them only focused on Scout for the remainder of it, and yet there still felt like there were some things unspoken. So the moment Scout did as she was told and the door was shut behind her he pulled out his cigarettes from his jacket pocket, and decided to light one, it was no longer a secret so what did timing matter anymore. Bentley let the silence linger taking a hefty drag and blowing the smoke out over his shoulder before extending it to Diane, unsure if her birthday was a one time thing or if she had actually picked up the habit as he had.

It was then they finally decided to say something, “I’m sorry, I am, about your mom,” sincerity dripping from his voice as he watched the way she picked the cigarette off off him, noticing the hesitation. Bentley was sure to keep his distance, handing it to her in a way there hands didn't touch as he continued, “And—, I’m sorry about me too. I never apologized and now you’ve had to deal with this twice.” This was only the second time he was acknowledging it had even happened, the first time only being a month ago and at the time he didn’t know how to say it. “I can’t tell you why she did it, I barely know why I did,” but for some reason he had been thinking about it a lot as of late, “I just—, I won’t leave Scout, I promise,” coming to a whole lot more conclusions this time around. Bentley had his days, some days tougher than others, but then he would think about Scout and the sun would start to shine through those clouds. “And you know I don’t break my promises,” his mothers stupid engagement ring hanging around his neck even under all the layers he was wearing. It was still cold in Colorado but now with June around the corner he’d probably be taking the necklace off again soon since it was harder to hide, almost as if he was embarrassed to still be wearing it.

[eggawoo]

　　　　　　　✧　D I A N E　M O R E A U　!

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LOCATION　on a walk　⇨　front porch　⇨　the meadow　━━━　　　COMPANY　bentley　━━━


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Diane's brow furrowed as Bentley spoke, his anger unmistakable. It rolled off him in waves, though his focus remained on Scout. That simmering hostility set her on edge, her stomach twisting involuntarily. She recognized it—the raw protectiveness that flared up whenever Scout was involved. It wasn't aimed at her, but it lingered in the air between them, heavy and undeniable.

When Bentley's hand closed over hers, it startled her enough to break her focus. Her breath hitched, her gaze snapping to their joined hands before slowly drifting to meet his eyes. His grip was steady, warm, and unyielding, grounding her in a way she hadn't expected. Something flickered inside her—a warmth that felt familiar, almost comforting, even as it unsettled her.

For a moment, she forgot the anger in his voice, the weight of his words, as she stood frozen in that fragile, unexpected connection. Then Scout toddled between them, her tiny hands reaching out to Diane's arm with a babbled exclamation. Bentley immediately let go of her hand, stepping back to give their daughter the attention she clearly wanted.

Diane blinked, releasing a shaky breath as she turned to Scout. "What is it, munchkin?" she asked, bending down to scoop her up. The little girl giggled, waving her arms as though she'd just discovered a grand secret. Diane kissed the top of her head, grateful for the distraction. When she glanced sideways at Bentley, she saw that he'd already taken over the stroller, his attention now elsewhere.

The walk back to the house was quiet, the three of them falling into a tentative rhythm. Diane kept her eyes on Scout as she toddled ahead, picking up pebbles and sticks, her giggles breaking through the lingering tension. For a while, they let the moment pass, neither pushing nor pulling, as if silently agreeing to focus on the one thing that still tied them together.

When they reached the house, Diane watched as Bentley kissed Scout's cheek and gently urged her inside, his tone soft as he sent her off to find Cherise. Scout toddled through the door with a delighted squeal, disappearing into the house's cozy warmth. Diane lingered on the porch, her gaze following their daughter before shifting back to Bentley as he pulled a pack of cigarettes from his jacket. After the week she'd had, she didn't even think to protest when he lit one and extended it to her.

Bentley was oddly careful to keep his hand just out of reach, but it allowed her to take the cigarette without their fingers brushing. Her grip was firm but hesitant as she accepted it. It felt strangely comfortable, the way it rested between her fingers, as though some part of her already knew the motion. She brought it to her lips and inhaled deeply, the bitter smoke curling into her lungs. It wasn't pleasant, but after everything, it felt earned—a momentary reprieve from the chaos of her thoughts.

Diane exhaled slowly, the smoke curling around her as she glanced towrd the house. "We should take the path to the backyard," she murmured, her voice low. "Cherise will stick her nose out here the second she smells smoke." She hesitated for a moment, her gaze flicking to the house. Cherise also didn't know what had happened in recent weeks, and Diane wasn't ready for her cousin to overhear anything.

She nodded toward the stone path that cut from the side of the house through the backyard and led to the dirt trail winding into the meadow. Without waiting for his response, she turned, taking a few steps toward the path before glancing back over her shoulder. "Come on," she added, the cigarette dangling loosely from her fingers.

As they reached the trail, Diane stopped, taking one last drag of the cigarette before handing it back to Bentley. She stood there for a moment, the weight of his earlier words pressing against her chest. The air carried a faint chill, and the meadow beyond was dotted with wildflowers just beginning to bloom, swaying gently as though they were unaffected by the lingering cold.

Finally, she turned to him, her voice low but steady. "When you said... what you said earlier about my mom," she began, her fingers brushing over the edge of her jacket pocket. "It caught me off guard. I didn't expect you to even bring it up again, let alone apologize." She hesitated, searching for the right words. "I don't think either of us knows why things happened the way they did. Maybe we never will. But... I appreciated that. You acknowledging it. And... everything else."

Her gaze flicked toward the meadow again, as if the gentle movement of the flowers steadied her thoughts. "I know you mean it when you say you won't leave Scout. I see it in the way you look at her, the way you care for her." She paused, drawing in a breath. "It doesn't make everything better—not overnight. But it's a start."

She glanced back at him, finally meeting his eyes for a fleeting moment. "And I know you don't break your promises. Just... don't break this one, Bentley." Feeling a wave of nostalgia, she stuck out her pinky, almost as if it were second nature. "Promise me, right now... for Scout," she said, a soft smile tugging at the corner of her lips. "No take backsies."


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THOUGHTS　'our last promise feels like it was ages ago, doesn't it?'　━━━

_______________________________
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[c u p p ii e]

xx𝗯𝗲𝗻𝘁𝗹𝗲𝘆 𝗷𝗮𝗰𝗼𝗯 𝗵𝗮𝗹𝗲








𝗺𝗮𝘆 𝘁𝘄𝗲𝗻𝘁𝘆-𝘁𝗵𝗶𝗿𝗱, 𝟮𝟬𝟭𝟴

Without a second thought he followed her around the house, letting the gentle breeze and light chill of the night clear his mind. Bentley took the cigarette the moment she gave it back, taking another calming drag, before nodding his head, acknowledging her words. He agreed, it wasn’t much, but it was start, “We both know that Scout was the best thing to ever happened to me,” smiling at the way she recognized how much he had changed since her first being born because Bentley firmly believed that without her he wouldn’t be standing here today. He would often think about those first couple of months, being an absentee father, refusing to care for her or even hold her, and now waiting days to see her was enough to make his heart ache.

The moment she stuck her pinky out he starred at it, they had done this a hundred times before and yet it had been so long. Bentley hesitated even though he knew he could without a doubt promise what she was asking, a wave of nostalgia crashing over him, before he finally switched his cigarette into his non dominant hand. It was then that he stuck his pink out and locked it with hers, the warmth from earlier had returned even in this weather, spring was no longer feeling like such a bummer. “For Scout,” he repeated, letting the gentle rustle of the flowers around them consume their silence. It was then that Bentley knew that he should go, it didn’t feel like they were just talking about Scout anymore. “It’s getting late and I still have to get back,” and just like that he let go of her finger. “I’ll see you in a few days, tell Scout that I love her,” afraid that if he went back to the house it would be even harder to leave.

“Are you out of your ******** mind?” the moment Bentley had gotten back to Aaron’s place he immediately started. “I don’t care, how could you do that to my daughter, Aaron?” he shook his head and even held his hand up to keep Eleanor from adding anything in. “No, ******** that. You’re not allowed to be around Scout anymore unless I’m there,” and he was so serious, he would be picking up and dropping Scout from there on out, Scout would come to him with his therapy sessions if she had too, there was no way he was going to leave his daughter in his brother’s care any more. The irony not lost in the fact that Aaron was the only thing that gave him confidence to have Scout start coming over in the first place. “Not what? Acceptable? You leaving Scout in the ******** cemetery is unacceptable,” decisively cutting his brother off and looking over at Eleanor with finality. “Thank you for trying, Diane told me that you tried to help” and Bentley knew that Eleanor understood as he walked away no longer caring what else Aaron had to say because regardless of explanation the situation seemed pretty black and white.


𝗺𝗮𝘆 𝘁𝘄𝗲𝗻𝘁𝘆-𝗳𝗼𝘂𝗿𝘁𝗵, 𝟮𝟬𝟭𝟴

It was already late by the time Bentley had gotten back, Bentley doing some last minute things before deciding to head to bed, when he received a text from Diane. There was a moment of worry and hesitation due to the hour, it being past midnight already, but after he had read both messages he couldn’t deny the way his heart picked up speed in the best way. Bentley replied almost immediately, thinking heavily over their soft encounters in the last twenty four hours.


tab to diane 🌸💙


tab had to pick up Scouts toys. our daughter left a mess before i took her back tab delivered at 12:09am




tab sure, i'll head over in the afternoon tab delivered at 12:12am



The moment he stepped inside the house it’s like Scout knew, she came rounding the corner, excitedly and right to him. Of course Bentley was ready, crouched down, and picking her up the moment she was in his arms. “Hey, Love Bug,” immediately he smiled and kissed her cheek, missing the fact that Diane was no where to be seen which was odd to say the least. “No, you’re not coming over to uncle Aaron’s today. I just missed you too much,” acknowledging the way she already missed her uncle but hiding the fact that how much it irritated him. Instead he focused on the way she threw her arms around his shoulders and squeezed, causing his heart to sing the way it always did when she showered him with little acts of love.

It was only when Scout began to wiggle, signaling she wanted to be put down, that Bentley began to wonder how much sugar she had today or if she had just woken from a nap, bouncing from one place to another. Bentley immediately followed her around the corner and into the open living room to see a sleeping Diane on the couch. Scout was fast, but he was faster, immediately scooping her up and keeping her from waking her mother. “Let’s let your mom rest,” it now made sense why Scout had so much energy, she was probably napping too before he had showed up. “You hungry?” unsure why he was even asking, knowing she usually was after a nap and as soon as she said she was he took her to the kitchen to make her something real quick, Diane probably already had something in the fridge for her.

[eggawoo]

　　　　　　　✧　D I A N E　M O R E A U　!

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LOCATION　home　━━━　　　COMPANY　scout & bentley　━━━


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Diane felt the warmth of Bentley's hand lingering on her own, even after they'd separated. It was as if the weight of that touch held something unspoken between them—a promise, a quiet connection that made the coolness of the evening air feel less sharp. She hadn't realized how much she'd missed him until that moment, how much she'd been needing this, needing him. Her fingers lingered for just a second longer, almost as if reluctant to let go of that warmth.



━━━　　T　I　M　E　　S　K　I　P　　━━━



After Bentley left, Diane found herself lying in bed, half-heartedly scrolling through emails and checking her calendar. The glow of the screen cast a soft, pale light across the room as she went through her evening routine, her mind drifting. It wasn't until she glanced at the date that she paused, realizing that Scout's second birthday was coming up. She'd almost forgotten. Diane began mentally running through ideas for the celebration, trying to picture what she could do for her daughter.

A quiet knock at the door interrupted her thoughts. Milo stood in the doorway with his familiar half-apologetic smile, claiming he'd forgotten something. Diane didn't think much of it at first—just a small slip-up. But as he left, something felt off. He'd mentioned working the next day, so why not grab whatever it was then? Why come by so late? She shrugged it off, refocusing on her phone to finish up a couple of emails. Then, just before midnight, she received a text from Milo: he couldn't come into work tomorrow. Maybe it was nothing... or maybe it was something more.

She quickly replied to his text, a sense of unease creeping in as she typed:


　
got it, hope everything's okay. see you later this week! 😘


Diane set her phone down and stared at the ceiling, trying to shake the feeling that something wasn't quite right. That's when she decided to text Bentley. With Milo's sudden change in plans, she knew she'd have a window of time tomorrow to discuss Scout's birthday. Grabbing her phone again, she took a deep breath and typed out a message:


　
hey, bentley. i know tomorrow's short notice, but are you free? we should talk about scout's birthday. got a couple of ideas, but i could really use your input. 🙂


She hit send, hoping he'd be able to swing by. With everything going on, their daughter's special day deserved their full attention.



━━━　　T　I　M　E　　S　K　I　P　　━━━



The morning had been long, and by early afternoon, Diane finally gave in to her exhaustion, curling up on the couch with Scout nestled beside her. The mental toll of the past few days, along with the fatigue of her period, left her feeling utterly drained. As the Midol kicked in, she slipped into a deep, heavy sleep—far deeper than her usual light, restless slumber. For the first time in weeks, she didn't stir, not even when Bentley arrived and quietly moved through the house.

When Diane eventually woke up, grogginess clung to her, the kind that lingers after an unplanned nap. She blinked a few times and stretched, wincing as the dull ache of her cramps persisted—manageable now, but still unwelcome. Her hand instinctively reached for Scout, but her arm fell on the empty place beside her. A flicker of worry rose in her chest, only to dissipate when she heard faint sounds of movement in the kitchen. Pushing herself upright, she shuffled toward the sound, her steps unhurried as she tried to shake off the haze of sleep.

Leaning against the doorway, she found Bentley at the fridge, his back to her as he rummaged through its contents. The sight of him—quiet and focused, already taking charge of something—brought a fond smile to her face. "Just woke up, huh?" Diane teased, her voice thick with sleep and laced with a playful edge, directing her words to Scout. She smiled warmly at the sight of their daughter before her gaze shifted back to Bentley, still focused on the fridge. "There's some yogurt on the second shelf."

The soft padding of tiny feet suddenly pulled Diane's attention away. Scout came bounding toward her, arms outstretched and face alight with giddy energy. Diane crouched to scoop her up, laughter in her voice. "Well, hey there, munchkin," she murmured, pressing a kiss to Scout's temple as the toddler babbled something indecipherable but urgent. "Yeah, yeah, I missed you too," Diane said softly, brushing a strand of hair from Scout's face. She swayed gently, settling Scout on her hip as the toddler clung to her like a koala.

The moment held a brief warmth before Diane's thoughts began to shift. "Speaking of Scout..." she started, stepping further into the kitchen, her voice gaining focus. "Her birthday's coming up soon, and I've been thinking about it." She leaned slightly against the counter, absently bouncing Scout as she spoke. "Last year, we threw her a big party, but I don't know if that's what any of us really need right now. I was thinking maybe we could do something a little more intimate this year." Her gaze drifted toward the window as her idea took shape. "I also noticed some flyers around town for the summer fair... it's coming up soon. Part of me thinks it might be a fun idea for us to make it a family day, kind of combine the birthday with the fair? I don't know, I'm still figuring it out."

Scout wriggled in Diane's arms, her little hands reaching toward the counter. Diane adjusted her hold on the todder, glancing at Bentley to gauge his reaction. His steady presence, combined with Scout's weight in her arms, grounded her in the moment. Her fingers trailed along the counter's edge, the quiet rhythm of the kitchen settling her mind.


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THOUGHTS　'maybe a quiet birthday this year, just us at the fair'　━━━

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[c u p p ii e]

𝗺𝗮𝘆 𝘁𝘄𝗲𝗻𝘁𝘆-𝗳𝗼𝘂𝗿𝘁𝗵, 𝟮𝟬𝟭𝟴

Diane’s mom senses had to have been tingling because Bentley had just opened the fridge door when she appeared in the door way. Being that he couldn’t see her he nearly jumped at her voice, closing it half an inch to actually look at her. Instead of saying anything right away he nodded and then opened it again to grab the yogurt in question and sure enough it was sitting right where she had said it was.

Bentley was just about to tear it open for their daughter, Scout still his arms, when she wanted down again so he had let her and then proceeded to prep it for her as she ran over to her mother. “You sure there will be enough for her to do?” he asked cautiously. He had vivid memories of him and his brother, Diane and Cherise, running down to the fair always during summer time but that didn’t change the fact that it could be a dangerous environment. They were young and stupid with little to no supervision, it didn’t mean he would want the same thing for hir daughter.

As he waited for her answer he crossed the distance, grabbing one of Scouts little rubber spoons from the drawer, now standing directly in front of the both of them. “I mean, we can, we don’t really have anything planned,” or at least Aaron hadn’t said anything yet. Bentley listened as she spoke to him but his focus remained on Scout, easily feeding her and trying to keep it as clean as possible for Diane’s sake. “Would we go on Scout’s actual birthday? I’d need to tell Aaron and—,” he paused, now looking up at her and away from Scout, spoon mid yogurt scoop. “Did you want me to invite Aaron and Eleanor?” he questioned softly, Scout’s attention suddenly picking up at the mention of those two.

The question laid their dangling in the air, the discomfort now apparent in the room but Diane had every right to refuse Aaron’s appearance at their daughters birthday after what he had pulled. Instead of filling it Bentley just starred, and then without a thought lifted his hand and smoothed out Diane’s hair, pushing the bed head behind her ears. “You look—,” he started and then sheepishly dropped his hand, grabbing the spoon again. “Tired, you could have rested longer if you needed too,” he finished and then realized there was suddenly nothing left inside the little cup anymore. Did they make toddler sized yogurts smaller or? He stupidly asked himself and then all at once remembered one of the reasons he had wanted to come over here besides planning Scout’s party.

“I forgot my notebook. After we argued—,” Bentley awkwardly ran his fingertips through his hair trying to figure out a better way to phrase it, the words coming out faster than his clouded brain could stop it. “Do you know where you put it?” asking as he followed her to the living room where they had last had it, the argument playing fresh in his head as if he was reliving it. But of course Bentley was trying to be better, and decided not to acknowledge it any further as long as he got the journal back. This time he’d take it with him and keep better track of it, Diane would be the first and last person to see it.

[eggawoo]

　　　　　　　✧　D I A N E　M O R E A U　!

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LOCATION　home　━━━　　　COMPANY　scout, bentley, & milo　━━━


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Diane smiled faintly as Bentley turned to her, yogurt in hand, his cautious question lingering in the air. She shifted Scout slightly on her hip, the toddler babbling a mix of excitement and insistence. "Honestly, I don't think it's a big deal if there's not a lot for her to do," she said, her tone light. "She's nearly two, Bentley. Her favorite activities are chasing her own shadow and flinging Cheerios everywhere. We're not exactly talking about a theme park crowd here."

Her lips quirked upward in amusement as she added, "Although, if it makes you feel better, I did think about buying one of those child leashes. You know, the ones that look like cute little backpacks with tails? It might save me from having to run after her if she decides to make a break for it at the fair." She chuckled, imagining Scout gleefully dragging her along, the thought momentarily lightening the weight on her chest.

Bentley stepped closer, a little spoon in hand, and Diane adjusted Scout's position to let him feed her. She noted the care he took to keep the yogurt mess-free, making sure none of it splattered on Scout's clothes or the floor. It was the kind of thoughtful gesture that Diane appreciated more than she realized. It was a stark contrast to how Milo or Cherise would have handled it—always rushing or distracted, their attention pulled in a million directions, leaving Diane to finish what they'd started. Cleanup was often left for her to handle. This simple act, though small, was one less thing for her to manage, one less thing to add to the list of mental tasks that seemed to grow by the minute.

At his next question, she hesitated briefly, watching Scout's little hands as they reached out eagerly for the next bite. Diane's gaze softened at the sight—Scout's world still so simple, so full of wonder at every small thing. "About inviting Aaron and Eleanor..." she began, keeping her voice steady, though the topic felt like a weight in her chest. "I think it'll be fine. Cherise will be coming too, so it's not like I'll be dealing with Aaron alone." She glanced at Bentley, her gaze firm yet reassuring, as though trying to convince herself as much as him. "Besides, it's Scout's birthday. Whatever issues we have, I'm not letting them overshadow her day."

The tension between them seemed to ease slightly, but it was short-lived. Bentley's hand brushed her hair, tucking a stray lock behind her ear with such tenderness that it sent a shiver down her spine. Her breath hitched, her mind scrambling as she tried to make sense of the moment. Did he even realize what he was doing? The warmth of his hand lingered, an unspoken presence hanging between them.

Diane shook her head with a small smile, pushing aside the warmth creeping into her chest. "I'm fine," she murmured, her voice soft but resolute. "Besides, I've already napped more today than I probably have all week." She let out a quiet, half-amused sigh, as if the small victory of a nap was somehow enough to hold everything else at bay.

As Scout finished her yogurt, Diane set their daughter down carefully. The toddler immediately scampered off toward the living room, where her toys were scattered across the floor, babbling happily to herself as she dove into her little world of play. Diane took a deep breath, bracing herself for the small task ahead. She stepped toward the living room, gesturing for Bentley to follow. "Your notebook..." she said, trying to recall where she'd put it after their argument. "Pretty sure I set it down on the coffee table, but give me a sec to check." She crouched down to sort through the small stack of papers and books that had accumulated there, her fingers brushing the edges of a few forgotten reminders. Her mind briefly wandered to the mess of unsaid things between them, but she forced herself to focus on the task, trying to quiet the noise in her head.

Bentley, seeing her crouch down, followed her lead and knelt down beside her, his presence so close that Diane could feel the heat of him. She shifted slightly, avoiding his gaze as the charged air between them felt almost tangible. She had to clear her throat before continuing her search, unable to focus on anything but the soft, nearly imperceptible shift in the atmosphere.

Just as Diane's fingers brushed against Bentley's hand, a voice cut through the air, sharp and unmistakable. "Looking for this?" Milo stood in the doorway, the notebook dangling from his fingers. His eyes flicked between Diane and Bentley, taking in their closeness with a look that was hard to read—surprise, maybe, or something heavier that settled uncomfortably in the room. The weight of his presence shattered the fragile silence, leaving an awkward tension that hung in the air, thick and uncomfortable.


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THOUGHTS　'of course he'd walk in now...'　━━━

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