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His familiar, beautiful hazel eyes widen. ‘Did I lie to you?’
‘You said you weren’t here the night the emails were sent.’
‘Right?’ He stares at me, his mouth still frozen open, his eyes unblinking. He crosses the floor and closes the door behind me, but I don’t move. ‘Millie, what is going on?’ he asks calmly.
‘You were here.’
‘I was .?.?. what?’ He looks confused; worried about me.
‘You were here,’ I say and I can barely speak. My words are so dry in my mouth. ‘That night. You wereinreception, around the time it happened, and that’s where my laptop was.’
‘What? Millie, I’m sorry, but where are you getting this information from?’
‘IT,’ I say. ‘I saw the log. It said your name, it said the time and it said you were here.’
‘But I wasn’t,’ he says calmly.
‘Are you not Jack Shurlock then? It literally saysyour name.’ And I suddenly feel like I’m juddering with it, this righteous anger at how people lie to me. Do it to my face. Like Owen did, like my mum .?.?.
‘And I’m literally saying, I wasn’t here.’ And now, he looks pissed off. He straightens, his shoulders squaring. ‘Are you kidding me, Millie?’
‘Is that why you’ve been to nice to me?’ I say, deflating, suddenly feeling like one big open bruised wound.
Jack sighs and shakes his head slowly. ‘What do you think the answer to that question is?’
‘You barely paid me an ounce of attention after you spoke to me at the Christmas party, and then, my emails get sent and you start talking to me and .?.?. why would you lie? Why would you say you weren’t here when you were?’
‘I feel like a lot of this you need to say to other people, not me—’
‘I don’t know who to trust,’ I blurt. ‘My life was upended and someone did it, andyou—’
‘I can’t believe you think—’ Jack’s nostrils flare. He rubs at his chin roughly, stubble beneath his fingers. ‘I started talking to you Millie, because I like you. I liked you then, too, before I left the first time. I just wasn’t sure you liked me back. You were still hurt. Owen had .?.?. done such a number on you. I thought it was only right I left the ball entirely in your court. Then I got your email .?.?.’
‘My email?’
‘It was delivered,’ he says. ‘I have a new email address, but the ones to my old address get forwarded. Re-routed.’
Oh my God. Jack got the sexy dream email. Jack got the flirty, I like you and wanted you to kiss me email. I stare at him. My mouth opens, like a fish drying out, on the shore.
‘But .?.?. it says you were here,’ is all I manage to say, pathetically, meekly.
‘I have a million things to do today before I leave,’ Jack says. He steps behind me and pushes the handle down. ‘And I need to make a phone call.’
‘And that’s .?.?. it?’
Jack nods. ‘Yes, Millie,’ he says, deeply, like an authoritative teacher. ‘That’s it.’
Jack stares at me then, and I see him, in those eyes, that man I spent a whole night wrapped around, melting into. I step over the threshold.
Behind me, Jack shuts the door with a calm click, and silence falls over the office.
*
From: Petra Kairys
To: Millie Chandler
Subject: My office
