Preston was definitely one of the reasons he had arrived late. Why? Honestly, he was a little scared to finally hear it; that Megan was hurting and it was because of him and if someone was going to finally tell him that it would have been Preston. It wasn’t that Justin was naive about it, somewhere in the back of his mind he was well aware of it; well aware that he was the one (possibly) making Megan cry right now, but he had refused to admit it. It was a lot easier to pretend like he had no idea. Justin finally brought his hand to the door and knocked. And like he had expected Preston had answered. “I’m here to work things out.” But, apparently that wasn’t the magic word, “And I’m here to say I’m sorry, okay?” Preston stepped aside and Justin was allowed in, not that he felt very welcome about it. He was sure Preston’s girlfriend had sent over a cold stare in his direction.
Justin walked over and sat down on the bed beside her. He could feel the noticeable lack of fingers touching his thigh, back, arm and all he could do was sigh out at the adjustment. He waited awkwardly beside her for a moment, before he realised it was his turn to start talking. That she was waiting for him this time. He supposed that made sense, this (the talking) after all had been his idea. “How you been?” It was a stupid question, but he was kind of hoping she would just tell him she had been fine, great, better than usual, then he wouldn’t have to feel like such an ass for what he was going to have to tell her tonight. He folded his hands together and waited for her to respond, as he looked up and finally decided to make some decent eye contact with her.