Page 23 of Isolation

As soon as I see sunlight sweeping through the window, I give up trying to go to sleep and experiment with putting pressure on my leg.

I am able to hop around today, so I slowly make my way downstairs and head to the living room couch.

We are supposed to have a family brunch today. I want to take a shower beforehand, but I rather wait till Milo leaves my room to do so.

In the interim, I am glued to my phone.

I have already sent numerous apology texts to Reid this morning. All of my calls are being forwarded straight to his voicemail.

There is nothing on his social media either.

I just want to know that he is safe.

“How are you feeling this morning, Rave?”

I look up to find a calm and collected Milo cascading down the stairs. He looks freshly showered, shaved, in blue jeans and a black T-shirt.

The room still seems hazy from my lack of sleep. I instinctively pinch my forearm in an attempt to wake myself up.

My eyes go back to my phone. “Just... recovering from my brain damage.”

“Brain damage?” Milo chuckles. “Aren’t we being slightly melodramatic?”

“We are not. Concussion is a form of brain damage.”

“No, concussion is a brain injury that can possibly lead to brain damage.”

I eye the staircase behind him, instead of arguing with him some more. “I am going to go take a quick shower before brunch starts,” I point towards the stairs. “I’ll see you later.”

He gives me a curt nod, and I slowly limp my way upstairs. I am shocked by our civil exchange based on what transpired just last night. It’s mindfuckery to the ultimate.

I discard my clothes to change into a bathrobe. While the tub fills up with hot water, I sit at the edge of my bed to type an email to Reid since texting is clearly futile.

I am so engrossed in my phone that I don’t notice Milo’s looming presence on top of me. I stop typing when I finally notice his shadow.

He is looking down at the phone screen.Quickly, I hit the lock button on my phone, but it’s of no use.

He saw who I was emailing.

“Everyone is downstairs now,” he says rigidly. “Your mom wants to know if they should wait for you to start brunch.”

“No,” I whisper. “They can start eating without me. I’ll come down shortly.”

Milo makes no effort to move. He is visibly stiff, and I eye his agitated body language. The room is thick with tension without either of us having to speak.

Finally, he leans over the bed to grab my phone out of my hand.

“Dude, what are you doing?”

Milo doesn’t respond to me. At least he doesn’t know my code, so he won’t be able to unlock the phone to read the email.

However, that wasn’t Milo's intention.

Milo walks over to the window with my phone in hand, opens the window so I feel the chill of winter and nonchalantly throws my phone out of it.

What.

The.