Romeo takes a step back. “I wasn’t… Wife?” Romeo looks at me, scared shitless, and I roll my eyes. Grow a pair, will you?
“Don’t listen to him, Romeo.” I turn toward my husband. “Jack?”
He ignores me and steps up, towering over Romeo, who is built like a Roman God, yet Jack’s anger radiating off him is even scaring the six-foot-five Adonis.
Jack laughs. “Of course your name is Romeo. How cliche.” He fakes a wave. “Adios.”
I cover my eyes in embarrassment. “That’s Spanish, you bloody idiot.”
“Great, I don’t give a fuck. Let’s go, Belle. Now,” he says through a clenched jaw, pulling me back toward the main house, leaving Romeo standing amongst the vines.
“You’re acting crazy, Jack. What the hell are you doing?”
“Crazy? Oh, you’ve haven’t seen anything yet, you hypocrite,” he screams.
I look around, embarrassed. “Can you keep your voice down?”
“Oh, don’t start your fake manners shit now. I’m so mad—no, I’m past that, I’m livid, and it’s healthy to yell a little. To let it all out, so don’t tell me not to scream, or I’ll really lose it.”
He stops in front of a car that I presume he rented, places both hands on the roof, and bows his head, taking deep, labored breaths.
After a few silent minutes pass, he turns, dropping his hands to his sides, forming a clenched fist, all while shooting me a venomous glare that has me stagger back from the unfamiliarity of his eyes.
“So let’s get this straight, Annabelle.” He steps closer. “You run out on me, leaving me like yesterday’s trash, to come here and spend time with him? Instead of talking to me, you’re in fucking Italy laughing and smiling, having a grand ol’ fucking time. Meanwhile, I’m sick to my stomach over what happened.”
I quickly shake my head. “It’s not what it looks like.” The second the words are out of my mouth, we both know I fucked up.
This is exactly what Jack said when Anna was over and I didn’t give him a chance to explain, so why should he grant me the courtesy to do so now?
Jack closes his eyes and takes a second to himself before walking closer, kissing my forehead quickly. “We have a lot to work on, Belle. We both have had years to engrain shitty habits into our systems when it comes to relationships. So this will only work if we fix thingstogether,and give each other a little grace. Because this won’t be the last time we fuck up, far from it. But if we don’t start working together from the beginning, we never will.” He walks back toward the car, opening it to get in, and I start to panic.
“Please don’t go, Jack,” I cry.
“In Paris, I didn’t pressure you. I stood back and let you figure things out, but now I choose me. I’m going for a drive, and when I’m back later tonight, it will be your choice if I stay or go… for good.”
What?
I watch him get in the car.
I watch him pause, look at me, and turn the engine on.
Then I watch him drive away, and I’m still standing here like a statue.
Until it hits me.
I’m not waiting for tonight.
I jump up and down, waving my hands, but he doesn’t see me, so I run inside, grab my phone, and dial his number.
He picks up on the first ring.
“Come back,” I cry. “Please come back.”
He hangs up without saying a word, then one second later, he’s flying down the gravel path and wrenching the door open, allowing me to fly into his arms.
“Jack,” I cry, whimpering into his shirt. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” I scream as a gut-wrenching sob leaves my mouth. “I choose you… us. I’m so sorry.”
What the fuck is wrong with me?
