He told Damien at seven.
Not because he had planned to tell him at seven. Because Damien had come home at seven and Juno had been sitting on the couch for two hours with his phone in his lap and the specific inability to talk about something that required talking about, and when the door opened he had simply said:
"Seren's getting married."
Damien set his bag down.
He was quiet for a moment.
"When did he—"
"This morning. Six AM. Caelan had a plan and abandoned it."
"In the kitchen."
"How did you know it was the kitchen."
Damien took off his coat.
Hung it.
"Where else would it be," he said.
Juno looked at him.
Damien went to the kitchen.
Came back with two glasses of wine.
Sat down.
Not beside Juno. Across from him, in the chair he used when they were having a real conversation rather than sharing a space.
Juno took the wine.
Neither of them said anything for a moment.
Outside, the city did its Tuesday evening thing.
"You're not going to say anything," Juno said.
