When we got back to the suite, I stripped off my hoodie and walked straight to the window, staring out at the skyline like it might settle the storm in my chest.
I didn’t turn. I couldn’t. Because if I looked at her, I’d crumble. I didn’t want her to see me like this, completely unravelling. It was ugly. Like some spoiled prick who couldn’t handle a loss. But I was that prick. I barely recognised myself, and I didn’t want her to, either.
I hated how cautious she was being around me in that moment. Like she was scared of saying the wrong thing. Like she had to measure every breath. I hated the silence, too. But more than anything, I hated how much I needed her. How her presence in the room was the only thing tethering me to the ground. But I couldn’t even speak without the risk of blowing it all to hell.
Because if I opened my mouth, even for a second, all the pressure inside me? The shame, the rage, the fear that maybe I wasn’t good enough to keep this going, it would come flying out. Sharp-edged and unfiltered. And she’d catch the worst of it.
She didn’t deserve what I was right now. So I stood there instead, useless. Boiling under my own skin. I could feel my hands in fists, my shoulders wound tight with a tension I couldn’t let go.
Here I was, trying to hold it all in while the woman I loved hovered a few feet behind me, tiptoeing like I was a ticking bomb she didn’t know how to disarm.
And maybe I was.
Then her phone rang.
She slipped quietly into the next room. I should’ve looked away. Should’ve given her privacy. But I couldn’t stop listening. I could hear it was her mother. Fuck, we could do without her right now. I was convinced the woman hated me, and I hadn’t even met her yet. I was sure she thought I was dragging her daughter round the world and turning her into some slutty hanger-on. That made my blood boil further.
Her voice was taut. Her words careful. Like each one was a trap.
“Mum, please…I know, I know, I just…No, I haven’t made any decisions yet.”
My gut twisted.Fuck.
“It’s not like that. I’m not just following him around like some groupie.Christ.I wouldn’t do that; you know me better than that.” The feeling was burning up my throat like acid.
And then…silence. Her breath caught. And I knew, I fucking knew she was crying.
My chest caved in. She was crumbling in the next room, and I couldn’t move. Couldn’t do anything.
This wasn’t what she signed up for. The travel. The headlines. Me. The broken, bitter version of me that showed up today and made her question if any of this was worth it.
I heard the door creak open. Her footsteps light, tiptoeing around me quite literally. She stepped into the room, arms folded across her chest like she was bracing for impact. And honestly, maybe she should have been.
It all came crashing down on me. The match, the press, the voices in my head.
And I snapped.
“You’re going back, aren’t you?”
She blinked, startled. “Jordan, what? No, I haven’t said that.”
“I could hear it,” I bit out. “You don’t have to lie to me.”
“Look,” she said gently, like I was breakable, “we’ve been avoiding this conversation. But this isn’t the time to have it.”
“Why not?” My voice cracked. “You know I love you. You said you love me, too. What’s so fucking hard about your decision?”
She winced. I felt it like a blade.
“Jordan,” she said louder now, “it’s not that easy.”
“Why not?” I was pacing now, hands raking through my hair. “You said it yourself, your job doesn’t feel the same. Your house doesn’t feel like home anymore. What’s back there that’s so goddamn important?”
“That’s not fair,” she said, her voice thinner now.
“I’m just trying to understand,” I shot back, louder. “We’ve been good, haven’t we?”
“Yes, of course we have. But that doesn’t mean I can drop everything…”
