(no subject)

She hadn't gone home. She hadn't exactly slept much, either, curled up in her office in McCormick's, the weight of the last few hours catching up to her all at once. In the moment, she hadn't thought much about it at all, had been acting rather than considering. After that, she'd been tempted to stay with Tommy, to put off dealing with this for as long as she possibly could, the same way she's been doing with everything these last couple of months. That just isn't an option anymore, though, not now that things have come to a head in such spectacularly disastrous fashion. Lucy isn't so much in denial that she can't realize that. There's no pretending things are alright after something like this, no expecting everything to go back to normal, pieces slotting into place again where they were meant to be. She slept with someone else, cheated on her goddamn boyfriend of almost a year, became someone she never thought she would be. That can't be taken back.

For that matter, she's not sure she would want it to be. Things haven't been good for a while now, since she took over the restaurant, maybe sooner, and at least this has forced her to address it. What she wants may be as much a mystery as what to do about this, but that's also something that has to wait. Her wants come second to untangling this mess, and hours later, she's no closer to that than she was immediately after the fact.

It isn't atypical, these days, for her to go to Brian and Max's apartment — or anywhere else, really — rather than the one she shares with Steve. What is unusual is for her to be hoping that her brother isn't around when she knocks on the door. Why she's here rather than one of her other friends', Lucy doesn't know, but it's all that really makes sense to her, and when so little in her life does right now, she's got to go with that. Rocking back on her heels, she draws in a deep breath, and waits.