24 - Nothing's Making Sense

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"Hi," he said nervously, when I didn't say anything.

"What are you doing here?" I finally asked, managing to take control of my mouth.

"I wanted to see you," he said, softly. His hands remained in his pockets but his eyes were fixed firmly on mine.

"Sarah said she didn't tell you where I was!" I blurted, and he shuffled awkwardly before answering.

"She didn't. I had to Google your company. She said you were working in another branch, and according to the website there's only London and Cardiff. So I got the postcode and... here I am."

I stared at him while I processed this, taking in his gaunt complexion, the bags under his eyes and his tired expression.

"You look terrible," I said, before I could stop myself, and he gave an embarrassed smile.

"You look amazing," he countered, and my stomach backflipped.

I glanced nervously over my shoulder, but Claire and Emma were just a speck in the distance now, and we were standing out of sight of the front doors of my office building. A few cars were driving past, but as we were on an industrial estate there wasn't exactly a passing crowd.

"Have you got five minutes?" he asked, tentatively, and I glanced at my watch. I wasn't exactly in a rush, but I did need to get back to my hotel and get ready for my date with Adam.

"Um, OK," I replied. I mean, the guy had driven all the way from London just to see me. I couldn't exactly say no.

I led him awkwardly round the side of the office building to a bench under some trees, in front of a small lawn.

"How are you?" he asked as we sat down.

"Fine," I answered. "You?"

"OK," he shrugged. "How come you're working here now?"

"I got a promotion, sort of," I explained. "It's only temporary, but I can apply for it permanently if I want. I'm just covering at the moment."

"Are you going to? Apply for it, I mean?" he asked.

"I don't know yet," I said, truthfully. "It's a nice change, but I miss London."

"Do you go home at weekends?"

"Usually," I nodded. "I stayed here last weekend though."

"Why?"

"We had a staff night out. Why are you here, Harry?" I asked, feeling uncomfortable with this safe yet awkward small talk. "You didn't come all this way just to ask me why I didn't go home last weekend."

"No," he said, looking at the ground. "I told you, I just wanted to see you."

"And I told you I didn't want to see you," I said bluntly.

"I didn't want to leave things on bad terms," he sighed.

"Why?" I asked, feeling frustrated. "It's not like we have to be around each other! I didn't think I was ever going to see you again. Why would you care?"

"I don't want you to hate me," he said, in a small voice.

I threw my hands up in the air. "Again, why would you care? Why can't you just get on with your life?"

He didn't answer, but looked away across the grass towards the car park. I followed his gaze, and suddenly had a horrible thought. I jumped to my feet.

"Oh my God," I said, clutching my neck with my hand. "Is this is set up? Have you got paparazzi watching us?"

"What?!" he asked in disbelief, lifting his head to stare up me. "What the hell - no of course not!"

"Don't act all offended," I snapped. "It wouldn't be the first time you've set me up!"

"What do you mean?" he asked, frowning at me.

I stared at him, mimicking his expression but exaggerating it in annoyance.

"What do you mean, what do I mean? You set me up last time! You set up the paps to get pictures of us, to restore your public image!"

He was staring at me, his face pulled into a confused and disbelieving expression.

"Why are you looking at me like that?!" I growled. "You admitted it! You told me that whole night was a set up! Right before you flew to Helsinki!"

He stared at me for a couple more seconds, the disbelief never leaving his face.

"I didn't set you up," he said protestingly. "Karen did! I would never do that to you."

My heart was pounding now, and my hands were trembling. "You - you said you did!" I argued, but instead of sounding strong and forceful, my voice shook with every word. How could he be saying this?

"No, I said the whole thing was a set up, which it was," he said, his brow still creased. "I never said it had anything to do with me."

"I - you...," I trailed off, my breath coming in short gasps. "You said I'd figured it out!"

He looked away and sighed softly.

"Why would I set you up?" he asked gently.

"To stop the world from hating you for shagging the Chestnut Mare!" I exclaimed, and I saw the vaguest smirk on his lips at my words, which I mirrored, before he frowned at me again.

"Did you really think I'd stoop so low?" he said, and his eyes looked so pained I had to tear my gaze away and grit my teeth to fight the wave of tears that was threatening to crash any second.

"You did," I said finally. "You slept with someone else. You couldn't really stoop any lower."

He had the decency to hang his head in shame, and I glanced at my watch again.

"I have to get going," I said, and he looked at up me in shock.

"Already? We - I - there are things I need to say."

I rolled my eyes. "You've had two months to say them," I said bluntly. "I gave up waiting a long time ago."

"Jess," he pleaded, standing up, and I took a step back, not trusting myself to get too close to him. He saw my reaction and a look of sadness passed over his face. "You really do hate me, don't you?"

I wasn't about to contradict him.

"Can you blame me?" I snapped. "You cheated on me, refused to give me an explanation, rejected me, told me you never loved me in the first place, told me the whole thing was set up and now you want to be friends?"

"No I didn't!" he spluttered. "How can you think that?!"

I groaned in frustration and put my hands over my face. "I don't even know which part you're denying," I said, "and I don't want to know," I finished, as I saw him open his mouth to speak. "I've moved on Harry. I suggest you do the same."

I slipped my bag on my shoulder and began to walk off.

"Wait, Jess, please!" he called, and I heard him coming after me. "Where are you going?"

"Back to my hotel. I have to get ready," I answered over my shoulder.

"Ready for what?" he asked, drawing level with me and falling into step beside me.

"I'm going out tonight," I muttered, and he grabbed my arm, forcing me to stop on the pavement.

"Who with?" he asked, his eyes darting back and forth between mine. It was like he knew.

I cleared my throat nervously, before deciding I wasn't going to lie to him.

"My boyfriend is coming up tonight from London," I said, and it came out in a whisper.

"Boyfriend?" He looked horrified. "What boyfriend?"

"I'm... I'm seeing someone."

"Who?" He swallowed hard, and let go of my arm to run his hand over the top of his head.

"No one you know," I muttered.

"I didn't know," he mumbled back, shoving his hands in his pockets.

"Why would you?" I sighed. "It's not the sort of thing I would go out of my way to tell you."

He was silent for a moment, looking down at the pavement.

"How long...?" he began.

"Only a few weeks. We're just sort of, I dunno... dating I suppose."

This was so awkward.

"But he's coming here? To stay with you in your hotel? Or just to see you?"

"Well... yeah, to... to stay with me," I answered timidly.

"Has he... have you...?" he trailed off. His eyes looked wild. I knew what he wanted to know.

How was I supposed to explain this? That I hadn't slept with Adam yet, but it was more than likely going to happen tonight? Why was I even bothering to explain?

"I don't feel comfortable talking about this with you," I said eventually.

"What's his name?" Harry asked, staring at the floor.

"Why does that matter?" I sighed.

"Is it someone I know?"

"No," I said flatly.

"So why can't you tell me his name?"

"I don't see why it's so important."

"I don't know why you can't just tell me."

I huffed in annoyance. "Fine. It's Adam."

Harry snapped his head up. "Adam? The one from the bar?"

This was the last thing I was expecting him to say.

"What do you mean?" I asked, confused. "What bar?"

"The one you kissed in the bar!" he said, in a rush, and then snapped his mouth shut.

"What are you talking about?" I demanded. Harry said nothing. I waited, staring at him.

"He kissed you, in some bar. Your friend Callie was saying he was nothing like me," Harry muttered eventually.

I suddenly remembered the night I had met Adam for the first time when Callie had been over-obvious, and the moment he had kissed me when I had been arguing with him over buying a round of drinks.

My eyes widened. "What - how do you know about that?" I asked, shocked.

He didn't answer, but looked away, and I caught a tinge of pink on his cheeks.

I continued to stare at him, and then it came to me - Grimmy.

"Grimmy," I breathed. "He told you, didn't he? He was there that night."

Harry didn't answer.

"What else has he told you?" I demanded.

"What else is there?" Harry asked quickly.

"Nothing," I said, just as quickly.

"Really?" he said, grabbing my arm again and looking into my eyes. I wrenched my arm away.

"This is none of your business, Harry," I told him, as I began to walk again, in the direction of the bus stop.

"I know, I'm sorry," he said, hastily. "Let me drive you back to your hotel, at least."

"No thanks," I muttered,

"Don't be so stubborn," he scolded.

"Don't tell me what to do," I snapped.

"Please, Jess!" he said, stopping dead on the pavement and raising his voice. I stopped too, and turned back to look at him. "Just let me drive you. Come on."

I hated myself for wanting to be around him for just a few minutes longer, even though I was hurt and confused and cross with him.

"Fine," I huffed.

He waited while I walked back to him, and then led me towards the office car park.

"Where's your security?" I asked as we crossed the car park and his Audi R8 came into view.

"Back in London," he said, and as I caught his eye he gave a little smirk that I couldn't help returning.

"Did you give them the slip or something?" I asked as I got into the passenger seat and buckled my seatbelt.

"Not exactly," he replied. "I just didn't tell them I was coming here. I sort of left in a rush."

I couldn't take my eyes off him as he started the engine, put the car into reverse and looked over his shoulder out of the rear window as he backed slowly out of the parking space. His face was close to mine now and being in a confined space with him meant I could smell his aftershave. I felt stupidly lightheaded.

He turned his head to look at me for a second and I felt my breath catch in my throat as our eyes met, before he turned back around to face forward, and pulled slowly out of the car park.

I put the hotel postcode in his sat nav, and we crawled along in the Monday afternoon traffic, neither of us speaking.

A million thoughts were racing through my mind as I tried to recall our earlier conversation. Was he telling the truth when he said it was Karen who had set up the paparazzi that night? Had he really had nothing to do with it? Why had he let me think he had been involved, all this time? Which part had he been denying? Why was he so bothered at the thought of me with someone else? And why was he really here? None of this made any sense at all.

"I've missed you," he said, suddenly, his eyes fixed on the road.

I didn't say anything, but stared resolutely forward, hardly daring to breathe.

"I've made a mess of everything," he said, a minute later. "It all just snowballed. It got out of control and I didn't know how to stop it."

"What did?" I asked, breaking my resolve not to speak, and breaking my resolve not to look at him, both at the same time.

"Everything. The whole situation," he said, still not looking at me.

I said nothing, but waited for him to carry on.

"I've done some stuff... stuff I'm not proud of," he said.

"Yeah, I know that," I said flatly.

"No," he said, finally turning to look at me. "You don't. But you should."

---***---

So... Harry says he didn't set Jess up that night in London. Do you believe him?

This book is currently ranked #314 in Fanfiction!!! Thank you so much for all the votes and comments on the last chapter! Next update will be next Friday, and there are more revelations to come.... xx

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