Chapter Text
"Come on D. Pick up."
Michaela sat silently in the living room, her phone glued to her ear anxiously.
She had been waiting to hear Drea's voice on the other line for what felt like hours. But it had been a serious of calls after calls with no answer.
She hadn't heard from her in days.
She'd been trying to contact her since that night, but she had shut everyone out.
She disappeared.
Most of the time her phone went straight to voicemail, foregoing the waiting period altogether. Hurling straight towards the definitive ambiguity of an empty line. Nothing hanging in the air. No possibility of her answering.
Just a straight forward no.
Just a recording of her saying she'll call you back soon... only to leave you hanging.
Maybe there was something hanging in the air after all.
Hurt. Betrayal. Anger. Michaela couldn't sort through them all.
Not in this moment, not ever.
She assumed Drea would show up at their door in the middle of the night. That she had been staying elsewhere, trying to come to terms with things. That eventually she would've come home after taking some time to cool off.
As if hearing a confession like that was simply something you had to 'cool off' from.
She was supposed to be alive. She wasn't supposed to die then.
And Cal took that from her.
He took her life away.
She had every right to leave them in the warehouse that night. She had every right to be angry. To feel like her life was out of control. She had every right to run away from everything, and find herself all over again.
Michaela recalled that night once more. How Jared held her, leading her towards his car. How he always seemed to step in at the right time, gluing everything back together.
Michaela should've expected that Jared would be the one to pick up the pieces.
After all, he had a knack for that.
He had a knack for picking up the pieces when everything was broken. Even when he wasn't asked to, he inserted himself and tried to fix it. He constantly needed to be the hero, or he was nothing at all. A quality that Michaela often felt was overbearing.
Maybe Drea was with him. Maybe she was alone. Regardless, it killed Michaela to know that she couldn't be certain.
Hearing her voicemail once again, she placed her phone at her side.
"Still no answer?' Zeke asked, stepping into the living room.
She shook her head no, laying back against the cushions. She exhaled softly, careful not to wake the sleeping baby in her arms. She felt defeated. Irrationally abandoned. As if Drea was slipping away all over again. That this would send her over the edge. That this would push her away indefinitely.
"I'm sure she's fine." Zeke replied, trying to reassure her. "She's a big girl. She'll call back when she can."
"I know. I just haven't heard from her since..."
He nodded, knowing full well what she was about to say. "You know her. She just needs some space."
"I just wish I could've done something."
"Like what?' He asked. "You couldn't have protected her from the truth."
Michael inhaled sharply. Zeke was right. Regardless of the outcome, Drea deserved to know the truth. They couldn't hide from it, no matter how deeply it tortured them inside. No matter how harsh of a reality it was to know that her life was meant to be spared. That it was prematurely ripped from her hands.
"I know, I'm just... feeling everything I felt all those years ago after Cal confessed. It brought back a bunch of memories."
"Yeah, we both know you're not great with feelings."
"Hey!" Michaela exclaimed. "I'm getting better ok?"
"Mmhmm." Zeke replied, a slight smile forming at the corner of his mouth.
But before Michael could reply, she heard a loud creaking noise. She peeked her head through the hall, noticing the crack of light illuminating on the floor.
It was the front door.
She turned to Zeke, starting to panic at the sound of footsteps growing louder, and closer.
Zeke saw the person first, and breathed a sight of relief. The look on his face confused Michaela, until she saw them too.
Drea was standing in the hallway stoically, holding herself together as she slowly walked into the living room to greet them.
'D. Hey." Said Mick, standing up from her spot on the couch. She forced her jaw to close at the sudden sight of her. She forced the shock to flee. All the time she spent worrying had faded away, and now she knew Drea was alright. She was safe. She wasn't going to leave... at least for now. She saw her and could breathe again.
Drea rocked back onto her heels, her neck heavy with the weight of a million different thoughts. She exhaled, guilt pouring over her. "Hey."
Michaela had swiftly placed the baby down, now walking towards the woman before her. She pressed her lips to move in response, pursing them as the words fell short. Her gut lurched itself forward, and anger bubbled in its place.
She knew it was irrational.
She understood why Drea did what she did.
Why she needed to leave.
But for some reason, her brain disconnected itself from her heart. Instead, she felt sadness. Rage. Postpartum hormones battled inside her. She squeezed her palms together, trying to regulate what she feeling. 'I was worried. I called."
Drea's gaze dropped to the floor. 'I know. I'm sorry."
Michaela shrugged, wrapping her arms around her chest. Drea had no reason to be sorry. No reason to feel guilty. And Michaela had no reason to be angry. No reason to feel abandoned. "Don't apologize. I should've let you be."
She knew Michaela would understand, but she wasn't alone. She was with Jared the entire time.
"Where were you?"
Drea put her hand on her temple, almost embarrassed to answer. Embarrassed of the feelings that came along with him. Embarrassed of what the mere thought of him did to her. How much she wanted him. Her hands shook as the words flew off of her tongue. "With Jared."
"I figured. Are you ok?"
Drea felt herself stiffen slightly.
Ok was a convoluted word.
She wasn't sure if she'd ever be 'ok' again. She wasn't sure if she wanted to cry, explode.
Truthfully, she just wanted to have sex with Jared again.
Which wasn't healthy. Which wasn't smart. And yet her brain had disconnected from her heart, and she found herself not trying to sew their connect back together. She wasn't sure if she wanted to care anymore. "I guess."
Michaela cleared her throat. "I know... this is a lot." Was all she could manage to say. What do you say? How do you make a situation like this any better, when you know the torture that's waiting just around the corner?
'Yeah. I just needed some space."
Somewhat of a lie.
The only space she had in the last few days was the gap between her and Jared's bodies.
And she couldn't help but hate herself for it.
Couldn't help but feel guilty for saying she needed space, and filling it with Jared instead.
And yet, Michaela was understanding. She didn't even know every detail, and she was still caring. She was still kind, and warm. "I understand. No need to explain."
Zeke walked forward, wrapping Drea into a hug. "We're here for you."
They were there for her whenever she needed them. No questions asked. Nothing expected from her.
And they worried about her.
They cared for her when she couldn't care for herself.
Guilt was eating her alive. Gnawing at her insides like a rabid animal searching for food.
She couldn't hide this anymore. She couldn't hide what she had done... had been doing.
She released herself from Zeke's grip, a lump forming in her throat as she finally expelled the words she had been holding back.
"I slept with Jared."