I winced. “Sorry.”
“No, I’m the one who should be sorry,” Jake insisted, shaking his head. “I didn’t think it through. I kept leaning into the idea you already had of me, instead of trying to change it. I shouldn’t have made you think I didn’t care about the café. Or about you.” He met my eyes head-on, locking in on my gaze. “Because it’s the opposite.”
He was looking at me in that way of his again, just like he used to. Moments like these felt like there was an invisible string winding around us, and all I had to do waspull.
But I released it instead, looking away.
It wasn’t a question of forgiving Jake; that’d already been done. I liked this new Jake.
I liked this new Jake a littletoomuch.
It was only a question of trusting him.
I wanted to focus on him being here now and his kindness—for it to outweigh the four years of silence. But I still felt as uncertain about what the future with him held as I felt about my future with college and the café.
Clearing my throat, I said, “Well, hopefully our livestream in two days works. And then I guess... you’ll be gone?”
There was a stretch of silence, where Jake’s gaze clouded for a minute like he forgot about that fact too, before he echoed, “I’ll be gone.”
I knew this, I was the one who brought it up, but I still felt a stab of regret in my chest.
Why, I wondered, when his leaving was not remotely surprising?
Still, Jake had chosen to come back himself. Not because of Marie.
That had to mean something, right? It must.
“Hey,” he said, dipping his head down toward the kitten in his arms and making his dark locks swoop across his forehead. “How about we name her Arpeggio?”
“Arpeggio?” I questioned, skeptical. “That’s too big of a name to saddle on such a tiny little kitten.”
“Why?” he asked stubbornly. “She’ll grow into it.”
“Yeah, but try saying all those syllables when you have to get up in the middle of the night to bottle-feed her.”
“But it’s a great music name. We can call her Peggy for short,” Jake tried. “And her brother can be nicknamed Gio for Adagio.” He really loved those music terms, didn’t he? “You know, just like Lucy for Luciana.”
“My name’s not musical, though.”
Jake opened his mouth as if to protest my point—but then Mom appeared in the doorway.
“Hey, just checking in to see how the kitten’s doing,” Mom said, her eyebrows going up at the sight of the kitten swaddled in Jake’s shirt and snuggled against him. “Got you wrapped around her paw, I see.”
I grinned at Jake. “Told you.”
“I’m going to be taking them home soon,” Mom told me. “Dinner’s at six, Lucy. Please don’t stay late today, okay?” She turned to Jake. “You should come over too. I’m making one of my special home-cooked meals tonight.”
Jake studied her for a moment before a grin crossed his face. “So, takeout?”
“You remembered my specialty.” Mom beamed at him. “We’re having Chinese tonight. Bring your friends.”
She said it so casually, as if she wasn’t inviting four celebrities over.
It’d been forever since Jake was last at my house for dinner. So much had changed since then. Would a chart-topping boy band want to spend their night sitting in our tiny kitchen / dining room, eating takeout with us?
“Thanks, Diana.” Jake beamed. “We’ll be there.”
“Really?” I turned to him in surprise. “You’re coming?”
