Jay coughs, pulling my attention back to him. ‘Have you seen enough?’ he asks.
‘Yes.’ Jesse answers without taking his eyes off me. It’s quite obvious now that Jesse turning up was probably the best thing that could have happened.
‘I’ll be off then.’ Jay gets up and retrieves the disc from the player. ‘I’ll see myself out.’
Jesse says nothing as Jay leaves, shutting the door quietly behind him.
I sit at the top of the stairs and drop my eyes to my feet. I’m in a slight trance. This really could have been so much worse. No doubt Jesse will have something to say about my lack of honesty with regards to Matt’s presence, but he can’t blame me. Why would I openly offer that information? I’m not completely stupid. Well, it would appear I am. I never gave CCTV footage a thought, and I certainly didn’t expect Jesse to start playing Inspector Poirot.
‘You didn’t mention Matt before.’ Jesse’s calm tone doesn’t fool me, and why has he homed in on that instead of the more important issue at hand…the tall suited man at the bar. I know he thinks it’s him too.
My shoulders rise anxiously, but I don’t look up; I already know he’s angry. I don’t need visual confirmation, and I should think it’s pretty obvious why I didn’t mention Matt. ‘I didn’t want to upset you.’
‘Upset me?’ His voice is high with surprise.
‘Okay, I didn’t want to piss you off.’ I look up at him and find a completely impassive expression. I’m surprised; I was expecting boiling mad. ‘It was a chance meeting.’
‘But you had a few minutes conversation. What did you talk about?’
‘He apologised.’
‘And that took a few minutes?’ His eyebrows are raised. He’s right, an apology doesn’t even take two seconds, but I can’t remember every detail of the conversation. ‘I told you not to see him again.’
I gape at him. ‘Jesse, I didn’t plan on it. I told you, it was only by chance.’ What did he want me to do? Walk out of the bar? ‘I wanted to know how he knows about you.’
‘Do you care?’ He’s reining in his temper. I can see it.
‘No, I don’t.’
His teeth start working his bottom lip as he watches me. I feel guilty and I don’t know why. I’ve done nothing wrong. He’s not shouting at me, but he’s clearly not happy. What am I supposed to do? I know he’s thinking exactly what I’m thinking about Mikael, but he can’t possibly be mad at me about that because I didn’t even know he was there – if it was even him. Was it him?
‘Then leave it.’ He starts across the open space of the penthouse and up the stairs. ‘I’m going for a shower.’ He walks straight past me, leaving me stunned by his calm façade. I think I would rather have him blow his top. At least then I would know where I am. What now?
I haul myself up from the step and make my way towards the bedroom. I can’t stand this middle ground. I need to establish exactly what is going on in that complex mind of his. I know he’s mad, so why is he holding back on his temper. It’s not pleasant, but I would rather him rage a bit and clear the air. I feel like I’m hovering over a detonate button.
I walk into the bedroom and hear the shower, so I pad across the room to the bathroom, finding him under the spray. Even now, I’m drawn to the mass of beauty that stands before me, quaking with anger. It’s potent, but he’s not letting rip.
‘Will you please just rant at me and have it over with.’ I sit myself on the vanity unit and put my hands in my lap. I notice for the first time since I woke up that my engagement ring is missing. Did he take it off? The thought is like a stake through my heart. I don’t like this, not one little bit.
He doesn’t say a word. He carries on soaping himself down before stepping out and grabbing a towel to dry himself off. He leaves me sat exactly where I am, my eyes darting around the bathroom, uncertainty plaguing me. I lower myself down and walk nervously back into the bedroom.
‘Jesse?’
He completely ignores me and goes into the wardrobe, appearing a few moments later in some faded jeans. His jaw is ticking constantly and I can see it’s taking his every effort to hold onto his emotions. I never thought I would want him to fly off the handle. And where is he going, anyway?
He pulls a grey t-shirt over his head and makes his way back into the bathroom while I stand in the middle of the room, wondering what the hell to do. I follow him again and find him brushing his teeth. His eyes flick to mine in the mirror. I feel anxious…uncomfortable.
‘Please speak to me.’ I plead. I can’t stand this.
He finishes brushing his teeth and splashes his face with water, before bracing himself on the edge of the vanity unit and taking a few deep breaths. I prepare myself for the storm, but it doesn’t come. He walks straight past me and into the bedroom.
I follow like a desperate soul. ‘Where are you going?’ I ask his back, as he makes his way to the door.
He stops and it’s a few moments before he turns dark, troubled eyes on me. ‘I need to sort some things out at The Manor.’ His voice is devoid of any emotion where as I’m close to wailing. I’m petrified.
‘I thought we were doing something this evening.’ I remind him desperately.
‘Something came up.’ he mutters and turns to leave. That something is, without a doubt, me. He’s going to drink.
‘You’re mad with me.’ I cry frantically. I don’t want him to go. He would usually insist on me going and I would fight him on it, but now I want to go with him.