The Art of Starting Over

Chapter 32 - Inception

"Wait!" I call out as I reach the green waiting area. He's already on his phone making his way purposefully towards the elevators. "Jeremy, wait! Jeremy!"

He stops and slowly turns around.

"Good. I'll see you in ten, babe," he says into his phone, his eyes challenging mine before hanging up. Something inside me cracks. "What?" he says irritably, and I realise I have no idea what I'm going to say.

The first thing that comes out of my mouth is, "Who was that?"

My voice comes out hurt, angry and jealous and I hate it.

"Nobody," he shrugs. But his message is clear.

None of your business.

"Are you okay?" I try again.

He looks fiercely at me for an abnormally long time, and as difficult as it is, I hold his gaze, trying to understand what the hell is going on in that dark head of his.

"Yes," he answers.

That's it? Yes?

"Are you sure?"

He looks away and purses his lips. I feel a wave of panic rush through me seeing that his guard is thicker than ever. 

"What's with all the questions?"

The tone of his voice, the hard set of his jaw, hurts me more than his words. The back of my eyes starts to sting and I hesitate before answering with a slight stutter. "Y- you didn't say a word on our way home yesterday, I... I mean this morning, and... and I've called you a hundred times but you didn't answer or reply to my texts-"

"I was busy," he says dismissively.

I look back at him confused. Jeremy has his moments but he's never acted like this before. He's never cruel. Never. Not even when we fight. His eyes move around the room restlessly, his fists digging deep into his pockets.

He was busy. Maybe, that's it. He is a busy man after all. He told me he had to work and he didn't get much sleep.

"Okay," I say quietly. "Alright. I just wanted to, you know, make sure things aren't weird between us... after yesterday. I mean this morning."

"Why would things be weird?" he shrugs again coolly.

I freeze, paralysed. I don't know what to say. His eyes are on me accusingly, his cold glare pinning me to the ground. I realise his eyes are bloodshot beneath his dark lashes and I smell a faint whiff of whiskey as he huffs bracingly. 

He's been drinking.

"Nothing happened, Ally." His voice is hard and impatient.

"I... I know that," I stammer.

"So, why would things be weird?"

"They wouldn't," I reply feeling pressured.

He opens his mouth to reply, but he doesn't say anything. He closes his eyes and something about him softens just a little. I breathe out to calm myself and look away. I don't know why I ran after him. What was I expecting him to say? He's right. Nothing happened.

"She seems okay. Millie," he says, sounding notably more gentle.

"Yes," I reply shakily, still reeling from the argument we didn't really have.

Nothing happened.

"Has the doctor spoken to you yet?"

But it almost did, right? It wasn't just my imagination. I can't be the only one who feels this tension between us, even now! There wouldn't be any tension if nothing happened. And, if nothing happened, why the hell was he drinking this early in the day? And who the fuck is he going to see in ten minutes? Who the fuck is Babe? Millie is in hospital! She's just been operated on and he's off to hook up with Babe?