I hesitate, but I’ve gone too far already, so I might as well let the rest out. “You had the perfect girl, and you blew it, you fucking idiot. I’m trying to help, but if you’re going to throw it back in my face, well, screw you.”
He stares at me, and he’s still staring at me when Beth walks into the living room. She stops in the doorway and looks from me to him, then back again. “What’s going on?”
Jude turns and sees her. Then, to my surprise, his lips curve up. “Archer’s bollocking me for being a twat.” He sighs and turns back to his coffee. “He’s probably right.” He sips it moodily.
I meet Beth’s gaze, completely speechless. I can’t believe those words came out of my mouth.
Beth obviously sees because she gives me a small smile as she walks toward the breakfast bar. I push her coffee over to her, and she picks it up, then sits on a bar stool, about three feet from Jude.
“Well, isn’t this grown up and civilized?” She sips her coffee. Her tone is wry, but her hand is shaking. She’s hating this as much as I am.
I clear my throat and push off the counter. “I should leave you two alone.”
“No,” she says quickly. “Don’t go.”
I hesitate awkwardly. I’d rather be anywhere else than here right now. My weakness has led us to this place, and I’ve ruined things for both of us.
But she looks up then and meets my gaze, just for a moment, and her eyes are filled with warmth and affection, not accusation. Not pain. I try to get a grip on my swinging emotions. Their relationship was broken before last night; she made that very clear. I haven’t broken them up. Last night was solace for her, and comfort, and I think she did it with an open heart. But I’m going to have to wait to see if it was anything more than that.
“We should go home,” Jude says to her. “We need to talk.”
“What’s there to talk about?” she asks. “You made your position very clear yesterday.”
“I know, but I need to clarify some things.”
She has a mouthful of coffee, then puts her cup down and pushes it away. She splays her hands on the table and studies them while she thinks. Then she looks at him. “I don’t want to talk right now. I need some time to clear my head, and to think.” She gets to her feet and picks up her purse. “I’m going to walk down to the house and get some of my things. I’d like you to give me twenty minutes or so before you go back home.”
“Where will you go?” he asks.
“I’m not sure yet.”
“Beth—”
“Right now, it’s not your concern.” She speaks firmly. “Look, I think we both know things have been going wrong for a while. We’ve both been unhappy. And last night it came to a head. I don’t know what it all means going forward, but I need some time, and I’d be grateful if you’d let me have that.”
He stares at her. Then he just says, “All right.”
“Thank you.” She glances at me. “Thanks for letting me stay the night.”
“You’re welcome.”
She holds my gaze for a moment longer. Then she walks to the front door, goes out, and closes it behind her.
We both watch her walk away.
Jude’s the first to turn back. He picks up his coffee cup and drains it. Then he lowers his forehead to the counter and rests it there.
“Hangover?” I ask.
“Yeah.”
“You taken anything?”
“Not yet.”
I open the top drawer by the sink, take out a packet of Paracetamol, pop two out, and give them to him with a bottle of water from the fridge. I then take two myself. As he takes his, he watches me, amused. “You too?”
I wipe my mouth with the back of my hand. “Kinda. I didn’t want her to drink alone.”
