“Because of the notes.” It wasn’t a question.
I nodded, finally looking up at him. “Why did you leave them?”
Jack’s expression softened, vulnerability flashing across his features before he could mask it. “I told you the truth earlier. I don’t have a clever explanation. I just... needed to.”
“But why?” I pressed, needing to understand.
He was quiet for a long moment, choosing his words carefully. “I noticed you that first week. How bright you were. How hard you worked. But sometimes, when you thought no one was looking, there was this... shadow that would cross your face.”
My breath caught.
“Just brief moments where you looked hurt.” His voice dropped lower. “And I just... I couldn’t stand it.”
My eyes burned with unexpected tears. Pickles nudged my hand, sensing the emotion, and I gratefully buried my fingers in his fur.
“They meant a lot to me,” I whispered. “More than you know.”
Jack’s eyes held mine, intense and sincere. “I’m glad.”
We stood there in the quiet kitchen, the air between us charged with unspoken feelings. There was so much more to say, questions I wasn’t sure I was ready to ask, answers I wasn’t sure I was ready to hear.
“This is complicated, isn’t it?” I finally said.
“Yes.” No denials, no evasions.
I fidgeted with Pickles’ ear, suddenly unsure. “What do we do about it?”
Jack considered me for a moment, his expression thoughtful. “For now, maybe we just leave it on the table. We’ve acknowledged it. That’s enough for tonight.”
Relief washed through me. “So we can just... watch the movies? Just be normal?”
“As normal as we can manage,” he agreed, a small smile playing at the corners of his mouth.
“But we should probably talk about it. Eventually.” I wasn’t ready to let it go completely.
“We will,” he promised. “When we’re both ready.”
As we gathered the snacks to move to the living room, I felt lighter. The confusion and uncertainty hadn’t disappeared, but somehow, sharing it with Jack had made it easier to bear. And having Pickles pressed against my leg, a warm, solid reminder that my feelings were valid, helped more than I could have expected.
“What happens now?”
“Okay, so here’s how Operation UYD works,” I explained, setting our snacks on the coffee table. “We take turns choosing movies. The person whose day needs unfucking gets to go first.” I gestured toward Jack with a flourish. “That would be you, sir. What’ll it be?”
Jack considered for a moment, his expression thoughtful. “How do you feel about Hitchcock?”
“Hitchcock?” I perked up. “Are you asking if I like suspense, murder, and psychological thrills? Because the answer is yes, yes, and hell yes.”
A genuine smile spread across his face. “Rear Window?”
Be still my galloping heart, because holy cow, the man had a gorgeous smile.
“Oh my god, I love Rear Window!”
“Great.” Jack gestured to the sofa. “Make yourself comfortable.”
I did as I was told, tucking my fuzzy-slippered feet under me while trying not to stare at the way Jack’s sweatpants hung low on his hips as he bent to access the entertainment system. Pickles hopped up onto the couch beside me, stretching out along my side like we’d been buddies for years.
“Hope you don’t mind. Pickles seems to have claimed me.”
