I nod. “Yeah, it’s lovely. Great location, too.”
He chugs back some beer and stays quiet for a moment, then asks, “You think you could ever see yourself living in a place like this?”
There’s a touch of insecurity in his voice, which is so out of character.
“I’m sure I could. It’s hardly a shanty town. But I think I’ll always stay with Dad. He’d be lonely by himself,” I answer without thinking. When I see Jay’s expression, I suddenly realise the meaning behind his question. He wants to know if someday I’d live with him. Here. After all the madness is over and he can finally tell me all the stuff he’s been holding back.
Wow.
Just…wow.
And there’s the chest ache again. Only this time it’s a good kind of hurt. Sort of. This man is seriously hazardous for my heart. He just keeps on surprising me at every turn.
“You have to move out some time, Matilda. You know, see the world. I’m sure your old man wouldn’t want you staying with him just because you feel it’s your duty.”
“That’s not why I stay. I like living at home. It’s comfortable. And besides, me and my dad, well, we’re all each other has.”
Even as I say it, I know it’s a lie. Living with Dad is a comfort blanket, one I’ve always been too scared to let go of. Sometimes I think I convince myself he needs me more than he really does.
Jay grabs my hand then and squeezes softly. “You’re not all each other has.” His tone is serious, fervent.
I suck in a breath. More chest pangs.
“So, you mean to say we have you now, too?”
“Yeah, that’s what I mean,” he murmurs, leaning in closer. Air catches in my lungs.
“It doesn’t feel like we have you. In all honesty, I don’t know where I stand with you from one day to the next. You want to be with me, but you can’t be with me. For all I know, you could be gone in a heartbeat, back to America to perform in Las Vegas or some other glamorous location.”
“Oh, yeah? Well, you do remember our little agreement, don’t you? We made a deal you’d be coming with me the next time I have shows there, so you see it’s not true. You’ve got me, Matilda. You always have.” He pauses, and his voice lowers. “You’re mine.”
I close my eyes, his words too much for me.
“I miss you,” I whisper. “I miss having you sleep on the other side of my wall, hearing you pace.”
His eyes go sad. “I’ve only been gone a day.”
“And that’s why it’s scary. I shouldn’t miss you this much.”
“It’s not gonna be forever. Trust me.” His thumb brushes soothing circles to the inside of my wrist, and I melt.
We sit like that for a long time, the day drawing to a close around us, city noises drifting in from nearby. It’s after dark when Jessie comes and tells me she can take me home.
“It’s fine. I’ll drive her,” Jay interrupts.
I look at him, stare down at our intertwined fingers, before pulling my hand out of his. “I should go. It’s late, and I have work in the morning.”
He gazes at me, his expression probing. “You sure?”
“Yeah,” I say, breath whooshing out of me. “I’m sure.”
We hug tight, and as I go, I can feel him watching me the entire way to the door.
***
I’ve always found mediation to be an uncomfortable process. Two opposing parties get together to try to find a solution to their disagreement, with a neutral third party hired to play the middle man between the two. It’s often a measure taken early on in an effort to save money. If an agreement can be made, then everyone can avoid the high costs of going to court.
I knew from the start that the session organised to take place between Jay and Una Harris was going to be a tumultuous affair, and I wasn’t wrong. I was also aware that Jay wasn’t going to accept any offers from the newspaper. This was all a part of the dance for him, a part of whatever strange secrets he was keeping, and we had to go through the motions.
The morning it’s scheduled, Dad’s in fine form, a swing in his usually stunted step. He’s been enjoying every moment of working on this case, and I think he has high hopes that a conclusion can be reached today. I don’t have it in me to shatter his optimism.
I’m not keen on attending, but Dad insists I be there to take notes and the like. We arrive at the conference room early: me, Will, Dad, and Jay. The mediator is there waiting for us. A man named Jon Snow. Yes, I’m not joking. Jay and I both give each other a giddy look as we meet him. We both know the significance of his name. I think back to that first night Jay had moved in, when we’d had dinner and he’d teased me about my Game of Thrones T-shirt. A pang of nostalgia settles deep in my belly.