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“It’s the weekend.”
“Your point?”
“I don’t want to go to England.”
“What you want means jack shit to me. We’re going and that’s that.”
“And if I refuse?”
He tilts his head to the side. “There’s no refusal option in your job contract. Unless you quit, of course.”
“I can’t leave Jay alone.”
“Which is why he’s coming with us. The time you’ve spent moaning could’ve been spent booking our flight tickets.”
He slides the iPad from my fingers and goes back to scrolling through BBC’s website because I heard him mention once that American news outlets are unreliable.
I hate that I hoard everything he says, that I remember the first word he said to me—peaches—and every single interaction we’ve had since.
I hate that I used to search for his gift for my birthdays first. His mum chose them and it was obligatory, but I still counted them as coming from him.
Still stared at them whenever it got hard and the world closed in on me.
Especially at the one item that I’ve hidden so well.
He reaches for a glass of water at the same time as me. Our fingers brush for a second, two—
He suddenly jerks his hand away, stands up, and stalks to his room.
My hand shakes as I pick up the water and down it all. But no amount of water could douse the fire inside me.
Or the familiar feeling that’s rearing its ugly head from the past.
The fact that no matter how much I showered or scrubbed my skin clean, I’m still filthy.
* * *
Several hours later,we're on our way to London.
I avoid a panic attack by watching Jayden nearly piss himself with excitement from being on a plane for the first time—technically, second, but he doesn’t remember that trip. First class, because God forbid Daniel travel any other way.
He ignored me most of the flight, opting to have a fixation with his iPad.
Whenever Jay talks to him, however, he engages him and even smiles, dazzling the whole crew with his dimples.
So the problem is me.
I’m the one he doesn’t want to spare a glance.
The one who needlessly and embarrassingly told him everything, hoping he’d finally see my side of the story.
Not anyone else’s. Mine.
After two hours, Jay collapses into sleep, his neck lolled awkwardly. I shake my head as I maneuver him to a more comfortable position.
All while trying to ignore Daniel, who’s sitting across from me, still ignoring me.
When the attendants bring food, he flat out refuses it.
