Chapter 45 — A Confession

They pulled over outside a small hotel near the psychiatric facility minutes later.

It looked decent enough even for a multimillionaire like him, but Jenson wouldn't even budge in his seat. He just stared at the dashboard as if he couldn't care less about where they were. He looked stuck in a daze more than anything else.

"You okay?" she asked, her worries and anxious thoughts getting the better of her. Sure, she was already used to seeing him stressed out, but not this way.

Intoxicated. Confounded. Quiet. Too quiet.

It bothered her a lot, leading her thoughts straight into a pessimistic path. She really wanted to ask about his mother, but he might not even respond.

Right now he definitely looked like he didn't want to talk to anyone. Like he would rather be alone all night. He looked like someone who carried grudges, hard feelings, and a lot of secrets. Deep, dark secrets he would take with him to the grave.

"Hey." She pulled the hand brake. The rain just pelted onto the windshield, hitting the tinted surface and the rest of his pickup truck while they parked outside the hotel Darren mentioned.

Jenson didn't reply. He sat back. He wouldn't even look at her. The seat belt kept him restrained as he stayed completely still, as if he had no plans to step out or move. The blank look in his eyes showed both confusion and shock, telling her his calmness didn't really mean he was calm.

Would he check into the hotel? Or would he prefer to go back to his house?

"Wanna go home now?"

"No."

"That's the hotel. Right there." She leaned in and pointed to the beige-painted building in front of them.

"I'm not goin' in there," he murmured in a monotonous voice. His brows and lips creased now.

"Okay. Where d'you wanna go?" Jessi stifled a sigh, trying her best not to frown at his unusually reticent behavior. "Your office?"

"No."

Okay... So not in his office, either. "At Darren's? Want me to call him?"

"No."

Fine. Maybe she should try asking again later. "It's pouring." Jessi sighed at the deluge of midnight rainfall blurring her view of the road ahead. She wasn't sleepy yet, but the loud noises almost irritated her. "Let's wait for it to calm down. Back in my place. That okay?"

"Sure." Her boss didn't say anything else and just stared at the windshield.

She waited for him to speak again. But of course he didn't. "Okay." She pushed down the hand brake and drove off. "My place."

×

They arrived at her apartment an hour later. Jessi stayed quiet, unbuckled her seat belt, and waited for him to get out of the vehicle.

Once the rain dwindled down, Jenson stepped out of the front seat and just stood beside his truck for a moment.

She made a face when he stayed frozen on the spot. They were in the dim parking area beside the apartment complex, but someone out here still might recognize him. Not a good start to his weekend. "Joss. Come on. The rain's just gonna get worse."

Jenson took a tentative few steps towards the apartment's backdoor. Then he turned to regard her. "Can I come up?"

"Obviously," she muttered, ignoring the keen urge to roll her eyes at his question. The rain just resumed the downpour, but he didn't look like he gave a crap. "Hurry up. You're getting wet." She tsk-ed and just grabbed his damp forearm to lead him towards the back entrance door.

Her hand slipped along his wet skin. Now she was gripping his wrist while he lagged behind her. They walked across the narrow hallway in silence, clothes and shoes all wet. Her thick hoodie kept her hair and dress dry, though.

They rode the small elevator alone. He still wouldn't talk to her or tell her what exactly happened that made him lose his temper outside that private facility.

Okay. Patience. Maybe she just had to wait. Maybe he'd be in the mood to talk about it in the morning. She'd rather let him sleep over and use her bedroom for the night than let him leave by himself. No way was she letting him drive home (or anywhere) while under the influence.

"Use my bed. I'll take the couch," she said after they stepped inside her small apartment unit. She turned on the lights while he sat on her small couch. She looked at him and waited for a reply.

To her frustration, he just stared at the door and placed the back of his head atop the backrest. Well, she should stay patient. Be understanding of his situation.

He must be dealing with a really bad combination of stress, heartbreak, shock, and something else. Something more serious than she could imagine. She hadn't seen him this intoxicated and emotionally disturbed that he couldn't even keep up a normal conversation.

"You want coffee? Some clothes?" She sat beside him on the couch after she watched his fist clenching on his thigh.

Damp spots darkened his gray sweatshirt now, the thin cloth almost matching the color of his pants. His hair looked fairly tousled, and his baggy eyes reminded her of their recent trip to Canada. They stayed there for work: a few weeks of filming and promotions.

She expected that the congratulatory party with his friends would help him forget about work for a moment. But after what happened to him just moments ago, tonight clearly didn't meet her expectations. She just hoped he would talk to her.

It wasn't like she could just ply him with more booze to make him feel better. He'd already imbibed more than enough. "Coffee?" she asked again.

"No thanks," he mumbled, his eyes abstractedly focusing on his fist.

"Okay. What d'you want?"

"Beer."

She made a face. "Really?" She bought canned beers earlier during her grocery run, but maybe he also liked cheap beer.

It sparked a memory in her head. That morning they met for the first time...with him dressed in a plain shirt, wrinkled jeans, somewhat disguised by his thick beard and a baseball cap.

He was so chatty that day. Upbeat. Almost overly polite and jovial. The complete opposite of how he looked right now.

Jessi frowned. She smothered a sigh with her hand and got up from the couch to raid her small fridge. If he really wanted another drink to calm down, then fine. "Okay. I'll get you some."

×

Not even half an hour later, he easily swigged his second beer while he rested on her couch, just sprawled on the thick cushion and passing the time with her.

She tried keeping an eye on him while she checked emails and looked for cheap tickets online. She sat on the floor with her laptop on her thighs and the couch right behind her. Her upper back was touching his thigh.

It seemed he'd rather drink himself to sleep than talk to her about his problems. So she let him be.

Fine if he wasn't going to share anything about what happened. She wouldn't force or convince him to disclose things he didn't want to discuss with her.

Boundaries. Personal matters.

They were good friends. Sure. But nothing more than that. She should respect his privacy as much as he respected hers.

"I'll probably leave the country again. In a few months or so."

Her hands froze at the same time her breathing halted. Jessi stopped scrolling through an airline's website, surprised by his statement. "Where would you go? For work?" She clicked on a link and resumed looking at ticket prices, trying to act casual so he would keep talking.

"No. To decompress."

"Oh. Okay." Him taking a vacation? At last... "But where?"

"Not sure."

Perhaps...Beijing? A gut feeling told her he might travel to China soon to try to reconcile with Charmaine.

The two were having a rough year, but maybe they would make up eventually. It didn't sound impossible, considering his weighty past with Charm and their previous engagement.

Rough patches plagued almost every relationship. Maybe the two would find their way back into each other's arms after a good few months of separation.

Right. Okay. Time to move on with her life.

Although discouraged once again, Jessi held in a sigh and thought of the possibility.

It must be the sign she'd been waiting for...her cue to quit as his personal assistant and forget about a career here in Hollywood. Working for him for another year would only give Charmaine another reason to hate her.

Jessi frowned at the thought, sad that she would be jobless again. But she could call Kel for help in finding a new job. Maybe she would get to sign a contract with a modeling agency after this. Or do freelance work again as a makeup artist. "Take the bed. I'm still busy with something."

"Been drinking since four," her boss mumbled with a prolonged sigh. "I'm still fucking sober."

"I beg to differ."

He grunted and sat up, ignoring her retort.

"You ready for bed?" She glanced behind to look at his face.

His heavy-lidded gaze told her he was one drink away from an alcohol-induced coma, but the guy still seemed coherent for the most part. "Define 'ready,'" Jenson murmured with a faint smirk. It disappeared sooner than she could come up with a witty comeback.

"I'm serious. Take the bed. I'll sleep here."

"Can I hug you?"

She stopped typing on her laptop. She shifted on the floor to regard him. Was he kidding? Suddenly in the mood to chat and crack jokes now?

The dead serious look on his stubbled face and his furrowed brows said otherwise. He put his forearms on his knees and gripped the beer can, just crushing it with his bare hand.

She took a deep breath, her nervousness paralyzing her thought process. Some anxiety now formed painful knots in her gut. The hurt and sadness in his voice and glistening eyes pained her heart, immediately tearing down her emotional barriers.

He just badly needed a friend right now.

"Okay." She put away her laptop when he just kept staring at her.

He pulled her in for a hug the second she sat beside him.

It caught her off-guard. The firmness of his embrace just took away her ability to focus on anything else.

His body felt warmer, and his nose and soft lips touched her cheek now. His arms held her tight against his torso. They just stayed in an embrace while he remained still and quiet.

Like her. She didn't want to pull away yet. She wanted him to feel comfortable. Maybe then she could convince him to talk it out and trust her with his secrets.

"You feelin' any better?" She stroked his back in a consoling manner while his firm arms stiffened around her body. She could feel the tension in his muscles, and his silence said enough about his current emotional state. "Want a blanket? And clean clothes?"

"Can I stay for a while?" Jenson muttered. Then he finally let go of her.

"Yeah. Use the bedroom, like I said."

"Really?"

"Sure."

He cleared his throat and hastily rubbed his eyes, his voice still gruff. Shit. His eyes, cheeks, and nose all looked pinkish now. He was actually crying. But why?

"You can't drive, and the storm's not goin' anywhere."

"Looks like it."

"Get some sleep." She winced when more thunderous noises interrupted their conversation. The rain started pouring again, incessantly tapping onto the windows.

"Sorry. If I..."

"It's okay."

"I just..."

"It's fine." She used a calmer tone, her heart beating faster in anticipation. Maybe he would answer a question now. By some luck, she would get some definite answers from him before he went to bed to be alone again. "What happened?"

"The head nurse called to tell me that, um..." He sniveled several times and averted his gaze. Then he scratched his temple, his hands just fidgeting every other second. He fell silent again before he let out another sigh. "My mother just died."