Photograph

67 - Hens and Princesses

Jake's kiss told me everything he was feeling – there was tenderness and longing, but also sadness and loss. It told me he knew I couldn't love him back the way he wanted and he accepted that. He was saying goodbye. And I kissed him back, not with passion but certainly with love and sadness. I wanted him to know I was sorry and that he would always be in my heart. I was telling him goodbye as well.

When he finally pulled away and let me go, he murmured, "I've given Rick a couple of names for replacements."

"Okay," was all I could manage.

And with that he was leaving as quietly as he'd arrived. I stood at the door and before he disappeared down the stairwell, called out, "Jake." He stopped and turned to me, the look on his face squeezing my heart. "Thank you. For everything." He nodded, opening his mouth as if to say something then thought better of it, gave me the smallest of smiles and continued on his way.

"Shit," I said to the empty flat as I closed the door behind me, sliding to the floor with the opening words from Photograph popping unbidden to mind. 'Loving can hurt, Loving can hurt sometimes, but it's the only thing that I know.' "Shit, shit, fuckity fuck." Then the tears came and I cried for a friend who was hurting, and for myself for losing him.

---

"Darling, there's something I want to tell you. Need to tell you. Want or need? No, both – I want and need to tell you. Or maybe now's not the right time; you're probably a bit jet-lagged and tired, though you don't look tired, you look just as gorgeous as always. More gorgeous, because I've missed you so much." I ran a hand over his face – those amazing cheekbones and oh-so-kissable lips. "Are you tired? Do you mind me telling you even if you're tired? Should I wait and tell you later, after you've had some sleep? Or perhaps..."

Long fingers stalled my verbal diarrhoea and were soon replaced – all too briefly - by those wonderful lips. "Cara, you're rambling."

"Yes, well, that's what I do, isn't it. And I'm pretty good at it, I think. I've had plenty of..." Fingers on my lips hushed me again.

"What are you nervous about?" he asked softly, snaking an arm around my waist to draw me closer as we sat on the couch, late morning sunshine highlighting the auburn tints in his hair and throwing his face into relief. He smelled as good as he looked and my eyes closed briefly while I inhaled eau de Benedict. "Is this related to whatever it was you were upset about the other night?"

Nodding, I brought my eyes to his. "Yes it is, it's all part and parcel...but you have to promise you won't get upset. And you'll listen to the whole story before you say or do anything...will you promise?"

The searching look he gave me seemed to gaze right into my soul. "I can't promise not to get upset."

"Why not?" I frowned.

"Because you're making it sound like it's something I will get upset about, so it's hardly fair to make me promise not to."

Oh God, I'm not sure I'm up to working out that logic. It sounds reasonable enough... "But you promise to hear me out and not say or do anything until you've heard every single word, even if you are upset?" There's that searching gaze again. I squirmed a bit, but held my own; it was vital he heard the whole thing or it would sound bad. Really bad.

Eventually he nodded. "Yes." I breathed in relief and began, starting with Jake's behaviour at the gig and what Marcus and Rick had attributed it to, through to him coming here and quitting the band and then kissing me. And me kissing him back. And why. Then I willed my heart to keep beating while I waited for him to say something. When he removed his arms from around me and stood up I froze, my pulse skipping a beat until he began pacing backwards and forwards in front of me and I could inhale again. He had his actor face on, so I had no idea what he was thinking or feeling or...oh God, say something Ben, please.