"Just a second, I'll call you right back," Riley says quickly, cutting off the conversation before the other Henry can respond. He ends the call abruptly.
For a moment he doesn't move. He sits very still, his phone still in his hand, and holds his breath.
He exhales slowly and sets the phone aside on the bed.
He drags his notebook closer from the bedside table, flipping open to a clean page, he takes the pen and draws a line straight down the middle.
On one side he writes advantages, and on the other, disadvantages. For a moment his hand hovers over the left column, unsure where to begin, but then the words begin to flow.
The first advantage he writes is simple, practical, and the most obvious: better pay. This job means he's going to earn more than he ever has before, enough that the dream of college no longer feels impossible.
He underlines the point twice.
Another advantage follows quickly. He notes that he won't be living at home anymore. That thought alone makes him pause, the pen tapping lightly against the page.
The space, the distance, the relief of not having to breathe the same air as the constant arguments and judgement ..it all feels like something he needs desperately.
Especially after how his brother talked to him.
Maybe, just maybe, with him gone, his family will finally stop circling the same subject over and over.
He writes the third advantage with a steadier hand: I get to help Skye. There's something grounding in that, something that makes the job feel more than just an escape or a paycheck.
The thought of being useful to someone else, especially someone young and vulnerable, makes him feel like he's making the right decision.
The pen stalls, hesitating at the next point, and without meaning to, he writes... It doesn't matter if I brushed lips with Henry. He didn't treat it like it was a big deal, and he's a married man, so I shouldn't worry about such a mere thing.
Riley stares at the words, his hand tightening around the pen. The letters feel louder than the rest... With a sudden movement he straightens, sits up fully, and tears the page from the notebook. The sound of paper ripping is sharp in the still room.
"Why did I even write such a stupid thing?" he mutters under his breath, crumpling the piece in his hand before tossing it aside carelessly. It lands somewhere on the floor, out of sight.
Opening back to the notebook, he writes something else: It doesn't matter if the family has issues. I'm going there for work. Nothing more, nothing less. He underlines that too, sealing it in his mind.
His attention shifts to the other column. The disadvantages. He taps the pen against the paper, waiting for something to come to him. But the longer he sits there, the more he realizes he can't think of a single reason not to take the job.
The pen hovers uselessly, and finally, with a soft sigh of defeat, he closes the notebook and sets it aside.
He leans back against the headboard, letting the weight of the decision settle in his chest. The breath he lets out is long and heavy, his head tipping back as if the wall behind him is the only thing keeping him upright.
His body feels restless, his thoughts noisy, but beneath it all there's a quiet certainty beginning to take root.
"I'm going to take that job," he says softly, almost as though he needs to hear the words aloud to make them real. "This is such a great opportunity." The corners of his mouth lift into a smirk, the smallest trace of satisfaction creeping across his face.
At that exact moment, his phone vibrates beside him. He glances down and picks it up, his pulse jumping when he sees the name on the screen. It's Henry again. Riley opens the message, his eyes scanning the words quickly.
~Why are you thinking about it for so long? Wasn't I clear when I said you can't say no?
His fingers fly across the screen before he can stop himself, typing out the only response that feels right.
~Okay, I accept the job.
The reply comes back almost instantly, so fast it feels like Henry was waiting for it. ~Perfect. I'll see you tomorrow then.
Riley stares at the words for a moment, the conversation hanging in the air like a final seal on the choice he's just made. There's no turning back now.
He sets the phone aside and begins moving around the room, pulling out the few things he'll need to pack.
His life has never been extravagant, so it doesn't take long to gather the basics. Clothes, a few essentials... nothing more. Each folded shirt and each item tucked into the bag feels like another step forward, like he's already halfway gone.
Later, when he steps out to inform his family about the job, he chooses his words carefully.
He doesn't go into detail. He doesn't mention babysitting. He knows that would only spark another lecture, another wave of criticism that he doesn't have the strength to endure tonight.
Instead, he keeps it vague, simple. Just enough for them to know he has work.