Mysonsgf Jenny -

He sent it before he could talk himself out of it.

“He doesn’t understand,” Jenny hissed, tears now spilling down her cheeks. “He thinks I’m just ‘high-maintenance.’ He thinks a dozen roses on a Tuesday fixes everything. But you know. You know what it’s like to need to feel chosen.” Mysonsgf Jenny

“You guys,” she whispered into the mic, her voice a frantic, breathy tremble. “I’m doing it. I’m really doing it.” He sent it before he could talk himself out of it

He heard the clink of a coffee mug. And then, for the first time all night, silence. Not the angry, lonely kind. The kind that just needed someone to sit with it for a while. But you know

He sighed, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. Jenny. Of course. For the past three months, his son’s girlfriend had been an invisible third resident in their home. She lived not in the guest room, but in Liam’s phone, on his laptop, and apparently, at this ungodly hour, on David’s own curated feed.