  &quot;You said you wanted to go see her, so we're going.&quot; He hands me my case to pack, but I put it back down on the bed moodily.
      &quot;I've changed my mind.&quot; I pout, trying to avoid his gaze on me, sitting on the edge and pulling at my hair. I'm emotional again and I've no idea why. This was decided by me and yet now he's making good on my decision, I've changed my mind.
      &quot;Look, Emma … I know things with her are messy, but I don't want you waking up one day and regretting this. Go, talk … Just do it.&quot; He picks up my case and flips it open, pulling my fingers out of my hair as he passes, wandering to the wardrobe he starts pulling out some of my casual clothes and throwing them toward it.
      What is this obsession he has with packing for me?
      &quot;Why do you care if I see her or not?&quot; I snap, irritated by his pushiness. We've had a week of l

  Strange.
      &quot;I'm really glad you're here … Both of you.&quot; She smiles without looking up. I hand Jake the bowl of salad after dishing my own and watch her, I feel like there is so much to say yet I don't have the words at all.
      Where would I start? Twenty-six years of pent-up emotions and accusations, yet here we are, acting like me coming home for a weekend with my boyfriend is normal. Not that she's even asked if that is what he is now. Maybe that's what that look was all about, maybe it's obvious.
      Jake digs into his food, his normally chatty self, quiet, he's leaving me to take the next step and for once I would rather ultra-sociable Carrero would just step in. He's a master at idle chit-chat and dominating a conversation, normally.
      &quot;I'm not sure how long we'll be staying,&quot; I mutter indirectly to break the silence.
      Maybe it's best to say i

  &quot;You took your hair down … It sounds so nothing when I say it aloud, but I saw you at your desk, sitting engrossed in work. I watched you for a moment, transfixed by the difference it made. You looked soft and innocent, almost vulnerable, like losing that polished, school mistress hair had made you forget the mask for a second and I knew straight away that I was in danger of having my head fucked over by a girl who didn't seem to want to know me.&quot; He kisses me again, more meaningfully this time.
      &quot;How could you know that when you barely knew anything about me?&quot; I giggle at him and his earnestness. My racing thoughts calming away as we lay here.
      &quot;Because I had come to realize that you didn't trust men. You didn't trust me. There was something about you, a fear about letting me, or any guy, close, I could sense it even though I didn't understand it … A

&quot;You said you wanted to go see her, so we're going.&quot; He hands me my case to pack, but I put it back down on the bed moodily.
      &quot;I've changed my mind.&quot; I pout, trying to avoid his gaze on me, sitting on the edge and pulling at my hair. I'm emotional again and I've no idea why. This was decided by me and yet now he's making good on my decision, I've changed my mind.
      &quot;Look, Emma … I know things with her are messy, but I don't want you waking up one day and regretting this. Go, talk … Just do it.&quot; He picks up my case and flips it open, pulling my fingers out of my hair as he passes, wandering to the wardrobe he starts pulling out some of my casual clothes and throwing them toward it.
      What is this obsession he has with packing for me?
      &quot;Why do you care if I see her or not?&quot; I snap, irritated by his pushiness. We've had a week of lazing around and lots of bedtime play. Suddenly, he wants to vacate the apartment and take me to C

Chapter 70