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He didn’t return that entire evening and stayed the night in his office. He does that a lot now, pulling all-nighters in his company, with Harris and a usually-tired Moses.
In the beginning, I thought the phase would wear off, and he’d eventually return to being the Jonathan I know — the man I grew accustomed to. He hasn’t.
Now, whenever Ethan is in sight, or one of the boys says something about me or to me, he doesn’t hesitate to tell them off, but his attention is never directed at me.
I hate how I can barely sleep anymore — if ever. The bed feels so cold and desolate without him. Before, nighttime used to be my favourite, but now, I dread it like nothing else. It means I’ll go home and sleep without him. It means I’ll continue watching the door, waiting for it to open, then sleep with tears in my eyes when it doesn’t.
The only times Jonathan talks to me is to tell me to eat or to not leave the house without security.
They follow me around everywhere now, especially to H&H. There are usually many reporters waiting there and making everyone’s lives a nightmare. Layla threatens to give them hell, but I manage to stop her by saying it’ll only make it worse.
By the end of the week, I’m so mentally exhausted, I want to curl into a ball and disappear.
But I don’t do that. Instead, I go one step further in a last-ditch attempt to get Jonathan back. Though talking to him would probably be a better option.
But have you seen Jonathan? It’s not like I can walk up to him and he’ll listen. He’s so hot-headed, and when he erases you, it’s hard to even look at him in the eyes, let alone talk to him.
So I invited Ethan over for afternoon tea. I mean, this is where I live too and Layla has been coming over the entire time. I also consider Ethan a friend, so he should be welcome to where I live.
Or at least, those are the excuses I tell myself.
Margot watches us peculiarly as she serves us tea near the outside pool area. Almost as if she’s asking me if I’ve lost my mind.
Perhaps I have, but I’m so sick and tired of Jonathan’s silent treatment. If Ethan is what it’ll take to have him talk to me again, so be it.
It’s a rare sunny Friday afternoon, and Jonathan is still at the office, so maybe he’ll pull another all-nighter.
I take a sip of my tea while Ethan twirls the ice in his scotch. There’s been a small smile on his lips ever since he stepped inside.
“What?” I ask from above the rim of my cup.
“I’m imagining Jonathan’s reaction. Fun.”
“You do realise that antagonising him isn’t the way to get back into his good graces, right?”
Tell that to yourself, hypocrite.
“It is. Jonathan lives for challenges instead of sappy emotions. On the day of his father’s funeral, which was only a few days after his mother’s, his older brother, James, was devastated. Guess what Jonathan did?”
I lean closer in my chair, the thought of him losing his parents so close together spreads an unusual ache through my chest. The pain I feel for him is mind-boggling, considering he has no emotions under his radar. “What?”
“He plotted how to bring down the man who caused his father’s death. That was his form of grief.”
“Alicia’s father.”
He pauses with the glass halfway to his mouth. “You know about that.”
“Jonathan told me.”
“That’s…interesting. You’re not her replacement, after all.”
“What do you mean?”
“At first, I thought he brought you in to alleviate his guilt about losing Alicia since the two of you look so much alike. Now, I’m sure that’s not the case.”
My heart picks up speed and the thing won’t slow down, no matter how much I try not to get caught in Ethan’s words. “How do you know?”
He takes a sip of his drink, his features relaxed, and he appears completely in his element, despite being in another person’s house.
