She’s right. I know she is. I’ve spent the last seven months thinking similar thoughts. I’ve slowly been moving towards this point where I have to make some hard decisions. In the past, I would have used alcohol to get me through. I would have made one of my famously erratic and impulsive decisions, signing on to a movie and getting on with shit. However, after all the therapy I’ve had, I now understand those decisions were made so I had something to keep me busy and distracted. Distracted from the lack of fucking joy I felt. The lack of joy I numbed with the booze and drugs.
We end the call and I wander down to the river and sit my ass down on the riverbank. I then spend the hour before my scheduled Zoom therapy session with Constance contemplating my future and my happiness. I also contemplate how I’m going to win Jessica over. If I know only one thing right now, it’s that these things are inextricably linked.
13
Jessica
“Jack!” I yell as I catch sight of my crazy eyes in the bathroom vanity mirror on Wednesday night. Even I know I’m being ridiculous right now, but there’s no way I can stop myself. Not when a spider is involved. “Jack! Come here!”
By the time he enters my bathroom, my veins are racing with anxiety. I don’t have many fears in life, but spiders are one of them. Probably the biggest one of them. “What’s wrong?” He looks at me with worry. Eyeing the window, he stalks to it and looks out into the dark night. “Was someone out there?”
“Not someone.” I move further away from the window towards the door. “Something.”
He frowns. “What?”
My eyes widen. “A spider! You know, one of those big, hairy things that scare the absolute crap out of me. You need to find it and you need to kill it!”
His frown disappears and a smile slides into place. How does he have so many different fucking smiles? “You still haven’t conquered that fear?”
I will stab him multiple times when I locate that fishing spear with his name on it. “No! And I’m never going to! Why are you still standing in front of me?”
He chuckles.
I almost decide to move up the date of his murder.
“Sweetheart, that spider is long gone. Even if I went outside, I wouldn’t find it.”
“Well you could pretend to find it!”
He cocks his head. “You want me to do that?”
“Yes, I want you to do that!”
“Right,” he says with determination. “I’m going. I am concerned, though.”
“Jesus, what about? We’re wasting time here.”
“What if it somehow managed to slip in through a crack? What if it’s inside now rather than out there?”
“Oh my God, I will hurt you! Go!”
His laughter takes far longer to disappear than he does.
I practically sprint into my bedroom. Jack’s conjured up a million scary stories in my mind now. I’m imagining all the ways that damn spider might have slipped through a fucking crack. Honestly, that man really is lucky to still be breathing. I fear the next time Will asks me how he is I may have to report back that there’s no breath to be found in him.
He returns five minutes later with, “I found him. He’s dead.”
I roll my eyes. “You are the worst actor alive.”
He leans against the doorjamb of my room and crosses his arms. “I’ve been told I’m pretty good actually. I think you need to watch a movie or two of mine.”
I try not to let my gaze go where it wants to go, which is to the navy T-shirt he’s wearing, but I fail. He’s taunted me with that shirt all afternoon, sitting outside in the sun reading, right where he knew I couldn’t help but see him. I’ve decided that expensive menswear is a waste of money. Women just need a fitted T-shirt to get them all bothered.
“How about you go and watch your own movies while I put my pyjamas on and go to bed?”
“I haven’t watched one of my movies for years. I’m not about to start now.”
“What?”
“You know I don’t like watching myself on the screen.”
“Yes, but I thought you got past that.”
“I got past that because you watched them with me.”
“So, what, now you just don’t watch them?”
“The last movie I watched was No Limit.”
That was the last movie of his that he and I watched together.
Silence fills the room as I process this.
I actually struggle to get my head around it.
“Jack,” I start, but I’m also struggling to find words, and no more come. How a man so talented at what he does can’t bring himself to watch his own work is beyond me. And it hurts my heart. God, how I just want Jack to see himself the way I see him.
He pushes off the doorjamb. “Scream if any more spiders annoy you during the night. I’ll keep my ear out.”
Spiders don’t accost me during the night, and sleep comes easier than the night before. But only slightly because Jack fills my mind again. Damn him, I can’t escape him.
I wake to a string of texts from Ashton that he sent just after 3:00 a.m. The London debacle is blowing up. Johnathon is doing his best to avoid needing Ashton over there, but Ashton wants me to have the company jet on standby. He’s made it clear this won’t interfere with my plans to go home to Sydney on Saturday. I’m not sure I’m as convinced, but I do know that Ashton always does his best to make good on his promises.
I also wake to a text from Lorelei checking in on me over the social media blitz on Jack and me.
Lorelei: Gasp! Jack moved back to Australia for you after you broke his heart all those years ago???!!!!
I love this woman.
Jessica: Yes, it would appear so.
Lorelei: I’m sorry I haven’t checked in on you until now. Work is crazy hectic at the moment. Are you okay?
Jessica: It’ll take a lot more than those assholes to get me down.
Lorelei: I know, but I’m here if you need me. Love you x
I never imagined the day I’d love a woman that Ashton dated. He always chose women I couldn’t stand. And then he found Lorelei, married her, and I added her to my list of seven.
I dress, take some of my asthma medication, and make my way out to the kitchen to grab a drink of water before my run. Jack’s in there doing the same.
“You survived the arachnids,” he says.
I reach for a glass. “Don’t make me hurt you. You know I will.”
He chuckles. “I have no doubt, gorgeous.”
I guzzle some water and open my eyes properly to look at him. I may get up early every morning to run, but I am far from a morning person and don’t generally open my eyes fully until I’m out running. “You look tired.”
“Don’t worry about me. I’m good.”
“Jack.” I sigh. This man. Honestly, he needs a woman to smack some sense into him. “You’re dealing with a lot of stuff at the moment. It’s okay to not be okay. You don’t have to tell me you’re good if you’re not. How many hours of sleep are you actually getting?”
“Do you know what I like about you the most?”