No Control | Holding Me Ransom (Book 2)

40 - Don't Let The Pictures Leave Your Phone

My heart sank. Why had I not just told him I wouldn't be there?

Because you didn't want to have that awkward conversation with him, my subconscious whispered, and she was right. I had hoped he wouldn't notice that I wasn't there, and so I could have dealt with it afterwards. Instead I had just made things a whole lot worse.

I rang his number as I walked down the stairs of the building, and just as I stepped out into the car park he answered.

"Hi," he said shortly.

"I'm so sorry," I said. "I didn't mean to be thoughtless. Are you really pissed off?"

There was a pause, and a scuffle.

"I don't know how I feel," he said. "I feel too much to put into words."

"Try," I said, softly.

"OK," he said immediately. "I'm pissed off you weren't there. I'm pissed off you didn't bother to let me know you weren't coming. I feel like a dickhead for thinking that you would, and for looking out for you the whole time, only to discover you didn't. It felt like a massive kick in the teeth. And I feel like a dickhead for wanting you there when you obviously didn't want to be there. I feel stupid and embarrassed and let down. Will that do for starters?"

"Harry, I'm really sorry," I said, completely taken aback. "I honestly had no idea it was this important to you. I should have let you know. I literally only decided I wasn't coming after I finished work, but I should have told you then. I'm so sorry."

"What changed your mind?" he asked, a little more calmly.

"I was worried the media would be onto me, so I went online to survey the situation and read the articles from this week, and I saw we were all over the Daily Mail again. It scared me off if I'm honest; I didn't want the attention, not while we're still trying to muddle through all this mess. I'm sorry."

"Why didn't you just tell me?" he asked, bluntly.

"I didn't think you'd realise I wasn't there," I confessed. "I chickened out of the conversation with you because I knew you'd try and convince me to come, and I couldn't face the potential row. I'm trying so hard to keep things fun and casual between us. You always want to talk about us, and I can't, not yet."

"Why?" he demanded. "What's the big deal?"

"I'm not getting into this right now," I muttered.

"See there you go again, Jess!" he exploded. "You refuse to talk about it, yet it's the elephant in the room! I don't see how we can move forward when you stay so closed up all the time! You won't tell me what you're thinking and feeling, and that's not fair! I'm being completely up front with you about everything - about where I'm going, what I'm doing, how I'm feeling! But you're giving me nothing back!"

He was right, of course, in a way. It was the elephant in the room. But if we talked about it I would be forced to admit I was starting to heal, and I knew this would give him hope that we would eventually get back together. But I would be lying if I said it would be that straightforward. The paparazzi intrusion on Monday had proved that I wasn't able to cope with that scrutiny again just yet, and I knew that if I rushed any part of this process it would ruin us forever. I didn't want to tell Harry that I was now hoping we might eventually be able to try again; not because I wanted to punish him, but because I understood how much he loved me and how badly he wanted us to be together, and I couldn't raise his hopes so early on. If I told him I was beginning to get over the whole Sara Sampaio fiasco, I knew he would put everything on hold and wait for me, and then what if my still-fragile feelings changed again? I couldn't risk hurting him, not knowing full well I held his heart in my hands. I loved him too much to put him through any more heartache than he had already been through. And above all, he deserved to be happy. I didn't want him hanging around waiting for me and missing out on the chance to be happy, even though the thought of him with someone else made me feel physically sick. I owed it to him to do the right thing.