Chapter 71 Dinner Together
When I opened my eyes, the room was dim.
I didn’t realize where I was at first until it all came back in a slow sickening wave.
Our argument, the shattered glass, his hand on my waist and his body going limp against mine. I instantly ran my fingers through my hair and pushed myself up on my elbows as a blanket slid over.
It smelled like him. It was past 8pm and I resolved that I must have fallen asleep.
My heart skipped as I pushed the blanket off of me immediately and sat up fully, my eyes scanned the living room and I realized that the mess that had been there was gone.
The air smelled different too like garlic and butter, then my gaze shifted toward the kitchen. That was when I saw Jack standing by the stove with his sleeves rolled up and his back partially turned to me.
He posture looked normal and natural like we had not shattered each other hours ago.
But relief hit me so hard that I almost hated it.
The floor creaked slightly when I shifted, and his head lifted. Then our eyes met and we both froze in that stare contest.
The silence between us stretched uncomfortably and he looked at me like he was trying to read whether I was still going to walk out of the door.
I held his stare, my chin lifting slightly in defense. Soon enough, he was the first to look away.
The spoon he held scraped softly against the pan.
“You were out for a while,” he said finally.
“I didn’t mean to fall asleep,” I replied, my throat dry.
“But you needed it.”
I didn’t respond to that.
He turned off the stove and set the spoon down carefully, like every movement required careful thought.
“You almost fell when I passed out,” he added after a moment, not looking at me.
A flash of that moment tightened my chest.
“You’re the one who passed out,” I said quietly. “Don’t make it about me.”
A faint huff of breath left him — not quite a laugh. “Fair.”
He reached for a glass of water and took a slow sip.
I noticed then that his movements were slower than usual as if he was still regaining strength.
“Are you… okay?” I asked before I could stop myself.
His eyes flicked up to mine again. “You still care,” he said softly.
I bit my lip. “That’s not what I asked.”
“I’m fine,” he answered after a pause. “Just dehydrated. Haven’t eaten properly in a couple days.”
My stomach twisted. “You’re unbelievable,” I muttered.
“I know.”
There was another silence.
I swung my legs off the couch and sat upright, grounding myself. The blanket pooled at my feet.
“You cleaned it up,” I said, glancing toward the wall.
“Yeah.”
“You didn’t have to.”
“But I did.”
That caught my attention.
He leaned back against the counter now, crossing his arms loosely.
“I shouldn’t have thrown it,” he said, nodding toward where the glass had shattered earlier.
“No, you shouldn't have." I agreed.
He nodded slightly. “I scared you.”
I hesitated before responding. “Yes.”
His jaw tightened slightly at my honesty.
“I didn’t mean to.”
“I know that.” I mumbled more to myself than to him.
Maybe that was the problem because It would almost be easier if he had meant it.
The smell of whatever he was cooking filled the space between us.
“You made dinner,” I said, more to fill the silence than anything.
“You haven't eaten either.”
My lips pressed together. “You didn’t have to make dinner.”
“I wanted to.” He looked at me again, this time more steadily. “I’m not trying to pretend nothing happened,” he said. “I just… didn’t want you waking up alone and thinking I left.”
My chest twisted. “I wouldn’t have thought that.”
“You said you were going to leave,” he reminded me gently.
I didn’t answer.
“You carried me to the couch?” I asked after a moment.
“Yes.”
“How?”
A faint, almost amused breath left him.
“I managed.”
“You were barely conscious.”
“I wasn’t as far gone as you think,” he replied. “Just dizzy.”
I nodded slowly. “Why didn’t you wake me?”
“You looked like you hadn’t slept in days.” He said quietly.
I looked away because the truth in that stung more than I wanted to admit.
“I was afraid,” he added.
My eyes snapped back to him. “Of what?”
“That if you woke up too soon, you’d still walk out.” The honesty of it sat raw between us.
“I don’t know what I’m doing anymore,” I admitted before I could stop myself.
His expression softened. “Neither do I.”
That almost made me laugh.
“Great,” I muttered. “We’re both a mess.”
“Yeah,” he said quietly. “We are.”
Then he began moving around the kitchen quietly, plating the food like this was just another evening, like we hadn’t ripped each other open hours ago. There was nothing wrong with it, it's just that the normalcy of it made my chest ache.
Not like I'd forgiven him yet.
I watched him scoop pasta onto two plates.
My fingers curled against the couch cushion.
“Jack.”
He paused but didn’t look at me yet. “Yeah?”
I stood slowly, my legs still a little unsteady from sleeping so hard. “I can’t do this anymore.”
That made him turn.
His expression didn’t quite like I'd expected.
“I know,” he said.
I swallowed. “No, I mean it. I can’t be with you like this, not when every argument feels like it might turn into a war zone or constantly bracing myself.”
He held my gaze but didn't interrupt.
“For my peace of mind,” I continued, “I need something that doesn’t feel like I'm stuck on survival mode.”
The kitchen felt too small suddenly before he finally nodded. “I understand.”
But the simplicity of his response hurt more than if he’d argued.
“You… understand?” I repeated, almost stupidly.
“I do,” he said. “You shouldn’t feel unsafe with someone who says they love you.”
My chest tightened at that.
He picked up the plates again and set them on the counter between us, like he needed something physical to anchor himself to.
“I don’t want to fight you on this,” he said after a moment. “If you think this is what you need… then I won’t stand in your way.”
I felt something inside me crack. This was what I wanted, wasn’t it?
For him to let me go. So why did it feel like I was the one being left?
He exhaled slowly, then added, “But I need one thing from you.”
I tensed slightly. “What?”
“Tomorrow,” he said carefully, “let me take you somewhere safe.”
I frowned. “Safe?”
“Yeah.”
“I’m already safe.”
“No, you're not safe here,” he replied quickly. “I just… I need to know you’re somewhere stable. Somewhere away from all this chaos. Somewhere you can actually breathe.”
I searched his face. “And then what?”
“And then at some point, I'll walk out of your life for good.”
The words landed heavier than I expected.
“For good?” I echoed.
He nodded. “No calls or ‘accidental’ run-ins,” he continued. “You won’t have to look over your shoulder wondering if I’m going to show up. Because I won’t.”
My throat tightened. “So you’d just… disappear?”
“If that’s what it takes for you to have peace,” he said quietly. “Yeah.”
I stared at him, trying to figure out if this was some kind of manipulation. Some last attempt to stay tethered to me, but his eyes didn’t hold strategy but resignation.
“Where would you take me?” I asked before I could stop myself.
He hesitated for half a second. “Somewhere I know you’ll be okay.”
That was all he said and strangely… I didn’t push or ask for further details maybe because I felt too exhausted or some part of me still trusted him in ways I couldn’t fully admit.
But I have my plans too, so I'd let him if it'll help give him reassurance.
“Okay,” I said quietly.
His eyes flickered with something. “Okay?” he repeated.
“Tomorrow,” I clarified. “You can take me tomorrow.”
He nodded once, like sealing something in place. “Thank you.”
He cleared his throat slightly and shifted the plates again.
“We should eat,” he said. “At least… one normal thing before everything changes.”
The way he said it made my stomach twist.