Who You Say I Am (A Jai Courtney Fanfic)

Chapter 42-Meg

Meg

Jai and I walk side by side through the CBD as he calls it—me, we're downtown. I'm actually regretting not bringing at least one camera with me. The city scenes here are impressive, unique, and different from what I'm used to. The beach and the mountains were incredible, too.
"So how's your camera on your phone?" I ask Jai as we walk down the street.
He looks at me surprised. "It's decent," he shrugs.
"Would you let me borrow it for a moment?" I ask.
"Sure," he says opening his phone up and handing it to me. We step aside and I play with a few settings on it. It is pretty decent. I walk through the crowd on the sidewalk to the street and I set up the scene within the frame. I take a picture and look at the image. I hand it back to him and keep walking.
"Wait... you just took this?" he asks in awe.
I shrug and move on. I see a stall selling straw hats, weaved bags, and baskets. I actually like these. I pick up a bag. It's beautiful but I'm afraid it won't last very long. I place it back. I look to Jai and he's staring at me.
"I'm sorry. Did you say something?" I question.
"You just took this?" he questions.
I shrug again. "You saw me take it."
I move on.
"You really have so many options to choose from for your future," he tells me.
I smile at him and keep walking.
I see another leather shop and I stop at this one. They have colored bags. There's one that's a little bigger than my black one I'm carrying. It's weaved and dyed like a mint green shade. I examine it and it's very well made. The zipper is a quality one. I love the craftsmanship on all the products I see here. Even the straw one was incredible. It just would wear down more than the leather. I look at the price tag and put it back. I move on. I look to my side but Jai's not there. I turn around to see him buying the purse.
I frown at him.
"Ah, you caught me," he grins.
"You didn't have to do that," I tell him.
"Yeah, but I wanted to," he says.
He hands me the purse and I clutch it to my chest. "Thank you," I whisper.
He grasps my hand. "It matches your bracelet," he says showing me. I nod as I realize that it does. He lowers my hand but keeps holding it as we move on. I can't keep my eyes off of him even though I'm trying. He really is so kind and thoughtful and generous. I treasure this friendship we have.
"You want some tea?" he asks me. 
"Sure," I shrug. 
"Would you eat Indian?" he asks. 
"Yeah," I reply.  I think he meant for an early dinner. 
We walk to a place not far and get seated right away. The booth seats several but he slides around beside me. I look over the menu and everything sounds delicious. I see kimchi as an option and I find that surprising but they do like spicy and flavorful dishes here.
"You want to get a set menu and share?" Jai asks me.
"Sure but I want some samosas and a mango lassi," I tell him.
"I didn't realize you're such a fan of potatoes," he smiles. I grin back.
Jai orders for us both and we sit together talking and laughing. The moment there's silence between us I decide to tell him how I feel.
"You're the best friend I've ever had," I confide.
He smiles and kisses the back of my hand. "And you're mine, too," he tells me. He leans closer to me and puts his arm around me. He places his phone in my hand and requests that I take a picture of us.
"Alright," I agree scooting closer. I flip to the selfie setting and adjust the frame. I see him kiss the top of my head and I smile. I take a couple. "Hold still," I tease grinning. He keeps moving around and his phone has a delayed response to capture the image. I take several and go through looking at them all. I'm about to delete the bad ones when he snatches his phone from my hand.
"I want them all," he insists kissing my cheek.
"Alright," I give in.
"These are good," he tells me. "I'd like to see what you can do with a real camera."
"They'd be better without that delay feature. If it took every time I pressed down, they'd mostly be what I intended," I tell him.
"I'm happy with these," he says. I see him switching his background to a picture of us. I smile at him. Our beverages arrive and then our food.
"I've never had that before," he says motioning to my drink. I push it over and he tries it. "That's good," he says.
"It is," I agree. I grab a samosa and take a bite.
"Aren't we going to pray?" he asks.
"We could," I say... moved that he wants me to pray. I wipe my hands and take his. I pray over the food and our time together. He smiles at me and we enjoy our meal of curries, rice, naan, and some sort of stewed vegetables that's reminiscent of fajitas with Indian seasoning. We share the massive piece of naan that almost covers the table. I break off a bite and dip it into my korma curry. It's probably the best of both that I've ever had.
"I tried making naan once," I tell him. "It wasn't nearly as good as this."
"What went wrong?" he asks.
"I don't think the recipe was a very good one. I'll have to try another one sometime," I tell him.
"I thought you said you weren't much of a cook," Jai comments.
"I'm okay. I'm not good at coming up with my own recipes but I can follow directions. If it's a good recipe, it comes out exactly as intended. My mom makes up her recipes as she goes. She's kind of an experimental cook," I explain.
"Oh, I see," he grins.
"What?" I laugh.
"You're a good cook. You just don't create your own so you think you have no talent," he says.
I chuckle, "Um... I'm not that creative with food."
"That doesn't mean you have no skill," he counters.
"I'll give you that," I concede.
"We need to work on your self-confidence," he tells me kissing the top of my head.
I smile sadly at him. Spencer never liked my food, though.
After dinner, we walk through town some more. We come across a bakery and decide to have dessert and tea there just before it closes. It's some sort of coconut cake called a toto with an iced hibiscus tea. It's incredible and tropical. I notice Jai keeps glancing at me. I smile at him and attempt to finish my cake but I'm getting full.
"You want the rest of mine?" I offer when I see his plate is empty.
"You don't like it?" he asks.
"I do. It's just that I can't fit any more in there," I smile motioning to my abdomen.
"Well, if you insist," he grins sliding the plate over. He takes a bite. "Yours is better than mine."
I laugh disbelievingly. "They're from the same cake," I insist. But he just smiles and finishes it off.
We stroll through town and watch the sun set. We make it back near the beach area and stare at the stars together in the clear night sky for a while. "Do you want to walk the beach?" he asks me.
I look at my watch. "It's getting late. We should probably head back," I say biting my lip.
"Is it terrible that I don't want today to end?" he says softly to me.
"How about we walk the beach together tomorrow night?" I offer.
"I'll take it," he grins. He kisses my cheek and takes me by the hand back to the parking lot. He puts our bags into the trunk and opens my door for me. I'm not used to someone treating me like this. He's such a kind and caring gentleman. I've never known a man with such good manners. I watch him come around and start the car up. We begin to drive gently, heading in the direction to the highway.
"You don't tell me much about yourself," I point out.
He laughs. "Well, the truth is... nobody really wants to know. They see me for what I've done or what they can get out of me."
"I want to know," I tell him.
He meets my eyes as we're stopped at a red light. "You'd be the first besides my mum," he says stroking my cheek.
I frown at his comment. "You don't have to tell me anything if you don't want to," I tell him softly.
The light changes to green and he drives on. He takes the exit to the highway and he sighs shakily.
"The truth is..." he starts. "I'm nobody special. I got lucky with a few roles. Then I got lucky with a few more. I've made a lot of mistakes in my life—mostly with sheilas. The relationships progressed quickly. Sometimes we stayed together for a while, sometimes not. Either I didn't have enough to give or the other way around. I think we just got tired of trying."
"My latest mistake... she met me similarly to the one I told you about at the hotel recently. She flattered me and seduced me. The relationship was mostly just that. She wanted me to dress her in expensive dresses and flaunt her around Hollywood. She wanted to be at the shoots. I took her once and she interrupted scenes so I never brought her again. I cared for her... but it wasn't a deep kind of feeling, just that I've had so many failed relationships that I wanted at least that one to work. She's American and was upset that I missed Thanksgiving due to shooting. I celebrated with the cast since I couldn't fly to Miami to see her. She refused to come unless I let her in during filming. I told her she couldn't come in, that it wasn't allowed. It was a lie. I just didn't want the constant interruption. It causes problems that I honestly didn't want to deal with. Anyway, I tried calling her on holidays. She wouldn't even answer. I left messages, texts, emails. It felt like nothing was ever good enough. She wanted all or nothing. I was stoked when my film wrapped up ahead of schedule. I packed my bags and jumped on an aeroplane to Miami to surprise her. I opened the door to her flat and searched around for her. I found her along with a trail of clothes to her bedroom. She and another bloke were, well... in a pretty nasty position on the bed we shared. I don't know if she even knew I was there and saw her. It's odd that she hasn't sent me a single message. Maybe she did know and just never cared..."
He looks to me and I'm frowning. He wipes a tear from my eyes. "I'm sorry. That can be devastating," I say.
"I'm honestly glad it's over," he tells me. "I'm almost relieved that I don't have to keep trying with her. She was not for me."
"Yeah," I whisper. "But I'm sure it still hurts."
"Defo. I thought I was having a heart attack at first. But when I saw her like that I'm pretty sure it was my heart breaking in two," he says.
"Yeah," I nod. "That's exactly how it feels," I agree. "I feel like there's almost nothing that could mend that wound."
"My mum tells me there's got to be more to life than the next sheila. Do you think she's right?" he asks me.
"I believe something different than you," I say.
"Tell me?" he requests.
"I believe that in all circumstances, I should go to God. He's the wonderful counselor, the comforter, the redeemer, the savior. If I'm sad, he's sad with me. If I'm broken, he breaks with me. If I need counseling, he gives me advice. If I need comforting, he provides it. He's always by my side in all circumstances. I know I'm not alone in this," I explain.
"How do you know?" he asks.
"I can feel him. Sometimes I can hear him. At times everything will just point in one direction. It's like there's a path before me. I can turn away... but I know, I can feel that this is the route I should take. I have the option to go my own way but I'd rather choose his way," I tell him.
"Why?" he asks.
"Because I know that even if there's hardship, his way is the best way. I may get my heart broken but what I learn from that is the greatest lesson to grow me into the person he desires—the best version of myself that I could ever be," I elaborate.
"You Christians are pretty deep," he says smiling.
"Yeah," I agree.
We stay quiet after that during the drive. The bouncing progression of the vehicle in motion and the smoothness of the highway almost is like being rocked to sleep. I find myself exhausted and I'm struggling to keep my eyes open. I rest my head against him and nod off to the lulling motion of the road.