Chapter 122

“She gave me some good advice while you took about three hours to get ready…. I didn’t want a reaction, miele, I was grateful. I’ll never make you jealous either. I’m sorry, baby.” He kisses me, breaking away to rub his nose against mine, a little show of affection that I’m getting fond of. “I don’t have any interest in getting reactions from other women … Only you.”

I smile up at him shyly; he always knows just what to say to me and that inner anxiety fades away, replaced with a sudden desire to curl around him and squeeze tightly.

“What advice did she give you?” I question softly, my arms finding his waist even though we’re still standing at the top of the stair in my apartment building. His mouth staying close to mine.

“To remember how easy it is for you to hide behind that wall when you’re scared … To never let it stand between us again.” He kisses my forehead softly. “She reminded me that despite seeming like you’re always in control and capable, deep down you’re that same kid from Chicago who learned to keep people out. No one protected you …… But I’m here now and I’ll always look after you, il mio amore.” He kisses me again, slowly, more deliberately, sending my heart into a fluttering mess as I become putty in his hands.

“I know you will,” I answer honestly, my mind casting back to Ray Vanquis and his admission that Ray was gone from my mother’s life for good. He smiles at me, locking eyes, before pulling me after him down to the car in the street below.

Some teenagers are gathered around admiring it and stand back in awe when he opens the door and throws my bag into the tiny rear seats. Jake gives the kids money and thanks them for watching his car while there are smiles and high fives all around. One of them whispers loudly that he knows who he is, and they all seem to flush. I notice he’s given them each a fifty and almost balk at it. Kids from around here aren’t exactly well-off, he probably just made their month. Easiest way to spend a few hundred bucks. Something I’ll never get used to with him is this complete disregard over money.

They stand back in admiration to watch us drive off.

Less than an hour later we’re at the airport boarding Jake’s private jet with all our bags in tow. This has happened so fast, I’ve barely had time to think, let alone breathe. I feel like I’m running away from work, from life, from everything and taking a time out in some fantasy romance novel with a millionaire who can pull strings like no other. I should be used to this side of him, we used to take business trips at the drop of a hat and to him this is no different. To me, this is craziness. My whole world has been upended overnight.

Jake pulls me up the steps and leads me into the jet with him, a sense of familiarity that feels so good. I missed this plane, I missed everything that was a part of him, of being with him. I missed our trips together.

He guides me to a window seat and slides in next to me, laying a hand on my lap with a smile and another kiss. Jake’s constant kissing is starting to be my normal, but it still catches me by surprise how demonstrative he can be, I’ll never tire of it. With hugging, hand holding, affectionate gestures, and constant verbal praise, I never imagined he would be this way. I never saw it with any of the women he hauled along or went out with, they were the ones who always clung to him, pushed him for a kiss or a hand to hold, always trying to get affection from him. He always seemed aloof and overly polite with them.

He shifts in his chair retrieving his phone from his pocket and looks down at the vibrating gadget, a frown of frustration crosses his face. He glances at me, a fleeting moment of doubt but then answers hesitantly.

“Marissa … How can I help you?” he sounds tense and glances my way warily, obviously watching for my reaction.

My stomach drops and I turn away to look out the window and bite my lip in vain. I won’t let him see me upset over this. She had to surface at some point, I couldn’t go on pretending she didn’t exist. His hand finds mine on my lap and pulls it back to him, entwining our fingers gently and giving me much needed attention and reassurance.

My caring boyfriend.

Who knew that Casanova could be this attentive? So in tune with me he knows when I need his touch.

“I won’t be here for the next couple of weeks, so that will be a no.” He seems irritated. I try not to listen and lean my face against the window instead, concentrating on watching the airfield while the crew load our luggage and get ready to take-off, the door is still open, and I have the urge to get up and go outside until he’s off the phone.

“Look, I told you … No, I did … I’ll be there at the end of the month … You’re the one who doesn’t want me at the other appointments … Because I’m not coming to see you. There’s no reason to come more often.” He snaps. “OK, Marissa, I need to go … I’m taking my girlfriend on a break … Emma! Fuck off, Marissa. Just hang up before you say something you’ll regret.” He disconnects angrily and throws his phone across the aisle at another seat with surprising accuracy and aim, that fiery temper of his has seen many cells hurtling this way. He turns to me and tugs my hand, so I glance at him, seeing he looks worried when I face him, and it melts some of my iciness.

“I’m sorry, bambino. I didn’t expect her to call.” He leans down, rubbing his nose against mine, catching my chin with his hand and tugging my mouth open a little so he can kiss me tenderly. I respond, trying to forget my upset in the midst of his touch as I hear the click of the door being shut and pull back to look past him. We’ll be taking off soon, so I move to fasten my seatbelt.

“You don’t want to talk about this?” he asks warily, watching me, but I just shrug and tend to my belt.

What is there to talk about? I don’t want there to even be a situation with Marissa, but there’s nothing I can do about it.

“What’s there to say?” I finally answer because his eyes are boring into me and he hasn’t moved.

“You haven’t even asked for updates … What’s expected of me before the baby comes.” He’s walking on eggshells trying to gauge my reaction and I look away as the tears rise inside of me. I don’t think I’ll ever feel able to talk about this.

“What is happening?” I mutter softly, only because I feel he wants me to. He senses my distance and sits back, he knows Emma in closed down mode, knows when to step off a little. I may be improved Emma nowadays but it’s early days and easy to revert to kind. Although Jake seems to be in new and improved mode too, and instead of old Jake pushing me for answers, he’s being gentle.

“I need to fly to LA once a month … Go to antenatal classes with her as she wants me at the birth.” He shifts, making the seat creak with his weight, and turns toward me so he can watch my profile a little better. I continue to stare out of the window, trying to detach myself from this conversation. Distancing myself from the pain that’s clawing up inside me and strangling my soul. “She doesn’t want me at any of the medical appointments, scans et cetera, just the classes … Every four weeks for the next six months, then fortnightly until the baby comes.”

“LA?” I repeat in surprise, last I knew, Marissa lived in New York. Location seems like a safe topic, but also one that annoys me. He’ll have to go there once a month to see her.

“Yeah, she headed out there after we came back. She’s got a condo that she’s living in … It means though, that when I fly there, I’ll need to stay over one night for the class and head home next day.” He glances down at my hands, seeing it held loosely drops it. I hadn’t realized I’d let go of my grip on his and instead he slides an arm around my shoulders, pulling me toward him. “Talk to me.” He pleads a little desperately.

“I am …” I start but his look stops me, furrowing his brows and I swallow down the pain.

“You’re asking questions … Not really telling me what you’re thinking, baby.” He chides softly. “I want to know how all of this is making you feel. I want to know if my going to see her will upset you.” He sighs. “You’ve never told me how you feel about there even being a baby.”

I turn my face away and hold down everything because talking about this is too hard.

If I tell him how I really feel, what then? It’s not exactly good … And then he’ll know how much I hate this.

All I can manage is a shrug, the words too painful to spit out but he sighs and squeezes me a little tighter.

“You know the old me would have been pissed at this … You going silent and brushing it off. Acting like you’re bored and don’t care … I now realize that this version of you is when you’re hurting the most, miele. You don’t need to say it, Emma, it’s pretty clear that you’re distraught over this whole situation. It’s okay to not be fine with this … I’m not fine with it either.”