Definitely, Maybe, Sometimes. | ✔️ COMPLETED

Chapter Eighteen

"Where are we going?" I can hear the eagerness from my voice but I don't care. "Not the river again, surely?"

"I'm not telling you." Jordan grins. "Keep walking."

I'm not normally someone who enjoys suspense or surprises, but it's Jordan, so I let it slide. He holds my hand as he pulls me down cobbled streets. It's early on a Saturday and there are no cars or people. A frosty bite in the air that makes me shiver, but the sun is shining.

We stop outside the Church of St. Mary. The gates firmly closed, doors shut, lights off. It's a lovely, historic looking building. Tall with several spires.

"It's a Church."

He throws me a look. "This isn't where we're going."

"Then why have we stopped walking?"

He smiles. "This was my mums favourite church. She loved to sing hymns here and afterwards, we'd get a coffee and sit on the grass. She'd bring her sketchbook and I'd bring my notebook. She'd draw and I'd write. It was our thing."

"Your mum draws? She's an artist?"

"She was." He says, adverting his gaze and stepping away from me. "She's dead."

"Oh." I feel a bit stunned. "I'm so sorry."

He shrugs, "Not like you killed her."

I want to ask more. I want to know about him, about all of him. All the bits he seems to think are broken and unloveable. But I don't want to pry, I don't want to force his hand.

Shyly, I say, "How did she...?"

"Cancer. It was quick. I was thirteen. We found out and three months later she was gone."

"Bloody hell. That must have been incredibly hard."

"It was. She was a legend. And Dad, well, he's always been a bit of a dick. Didn't take long to find a replacement."

I blink. "What?"

Jordan kicks a stone across the road, blinking into the sun. "He got married a month after she died. Like, a week after we buried her. He even bought his new girlfriend to mums funeral."

"Jordan." I'm horrified. I'm speechless.

"It's okay." He says. "It was a long time ago and my nan, mums mum, had a lot to say about it. Which was good because she said all the things I couldn't."

That's something, I guess. But still, imagining a pre-teen Jordan losing his mum and being forced to welcome in a step-mum in the same mouth leaves a sour taste in my mouth. I can't begin to imagine what it would have done to him.

He gives an abrupt wave of his hands, "Anyway, that isn't what today is about." He turns and points to a building. "This is what today is about."

It's pretty hard to pull my mind back to the present, the idea we're supposed to be going on a date when he's just dropped that bomb feels hollow. Shallow, somehow. I feel sad for him and the life he has lived without his mum. I couldn't imagine a life without mine.

He's pointing at a cafe but more fancy looking than our regular.

My voice is quiet when I ask. "More coffee?"

A slow grin breaks free on his face, making me a little weak in the knees. I feel a smile spread across my face too, like his is infectious.

"There's my girl," he says, raising his fingers to my chin and tipping my face to meet his eyes. His eyes briefly dip to my lips before they raise to meet my gaze again. "I don't like it when you're sad."