Of course he couldn't deal with it. How was he supposed to react? Hell, if he'd been in her shoes, she'd probably have said the same thing.
Once he drank himself into a stupor hours later, rambling to anyone at the bar that would listen - 'people always take the woman's side', 'I'm not ready to be a dad', he found himself stumbling outside, truck keys in one hand and phone in the other.
It's after the fourth try of trying to get his door unlocked that he gives up on the endeavor and his mind is reeling, taking 14 jumps between trains of thought before his thumbs have dialed Freya's number.
Freya’s in no better state, though she’s avoided the bottle successfully so far. Doesn’t mean she’s avoided the interrogation bunker to try and get the stress out in other ways.
She’s just stepped out of the shower in her quarters when she sees his name flashing on her phone screen, and for a moment her heart does that annoying thing where it speeds up and tries to trick her into smiling.
With a swipe that she tells herself isn’t hopeful, she lifts the phone to her ear.
“Yes, jefe? You all good?” Her voice is… tired. Physically and emotionally, but there’s a slight lift as she thinks about talking to him.
