Best Laid Plans

Explanations

Jade

I drove all night.

By the time I got home and realized she'd fled, all flights to Newcastle were canceled due to the horrible weather. So the options were a five-hour drive or waiting until morning and hoping the weather had cleared. Five hours gets me to her before morning, so driving it was.

I'm not accustomed to fucking up.

And I've fucked up. Big time.

I have five hours to think about it because Perrie isn't answering her phone. I can piece together what happened based on the trail of evidence through my condo. Abandoned peanut butter cups and a copy of MoneyWeek lying on the sofa. Her suitcase was gone. That, and she finally used the credit card I gave her – to buy a flight to Newcastle.

I'm an idiot, but I'm not guilty of anything that she's thinking right now.

I am guilty of omitting far too much though. Never a good idea, Tyler was right about that.

I arrive at her apartment complex just before three AM. A ridiculous hour and I think about sitting in my car while staring at her door until sunrise, at the very least, but I can't do it. I need to see her. I need to fix this. I need to know she's okay.

Also, this is so unlike her. She's not usually dramatic about anything, which tells me I've really, really fucked up.

She has a doorbell, and I ring it, sorry to do so in the middle of the night, but she must know I'd come. She must realize I'd never let her walk away from me without a fight.

No, idiot, I chastise myself. She doesn't realize that because you've never said the words.

It takes three rings and several minutes before I can feel her presence, positive she's on the other side of the door staring at me through the peephole. I tap the door with my knuckles. "Perrie, open the-"

The door opens.

She's wearing an oversized sweatshirt, legs bare. Her hair is messy from sleep and her eyes are tired.

"What are you doing here?" She seems surprised to see me.

"Sorry it's so late. I just got in. Flights to Newcastle were cancelled so I had to drive, I would've been here earlier otherwise."

She blinks at me, head tilted to the side. "You drove all the way from London?"

"Of course."

She stares some more. It makes nervous. I have no idea what's she's thinking.

"Perrie, may I come inside? Please?" I add when she doesn't seem certain she's going to allow it. She shrugs and steps back, leaving the door ajar for me to follow.

"Where's Margo?"

"Margo? What the fuck does Margo have to do with anything?" Unless... unless she saw the texts Margo sent. My iPad. Fuck. "It's not what you think."

"And what do I think?" she challenges, arms crossed over her chest, her chin tilting up in defiance.

"I imagine you saw a handful of the texts she sent to me, and you think I'm a lying, cheating asshole, but you wouldn't think that if you could see my half of the texts. You can, if you want." I pull my phone out of my pocket and unlock it, then attempt to hand the phone to her, but she's taken a step back and is looking at me like I drown kittens for fun.

"A handful? Do you text each other all the time?"

"Perrie, no." I exhale and run a hand through my hair. This is going badly.