Kaden sunk back into the couch, misery piled on misery. He didn't know if he could handle that. He didn't know how much it was going to hurt to see them together, and remember how Marcie and Tragos had been on their last morning together, when he'd come out of the bathroom and Tragos had his arms wrapped around Marcie while she made them breakfast. He didn't know how that wasn't going to rip him apart, to watch her do that with someone else.
He didn't know how to answer yes because saying he was okay with it felt like saying he was okay with her flaying him alive. He didn't know how to say no because she might just stand up and walk out. Kaden brushed more tears- falling so quickly now, at the thought of how badly it was still going to hurt- and sat back into the couch in dismay. Till he realised, actually, that she wasn't asking for his opinion, she wasn't asking him to be okay with it. No name calling, that was the agreement.
His sleeves (Tragos' hoodie's sleeves) were getting soaked, and Kaden dropped his head to look at them, one hand picking at a worn bit of the cuff. "I won't say anything," he promised, head down still, and barely moving his lips.