Definitely, Maybe, Sometimes. | ✔️ COMPLETED

Chapter Twenty-Eight

I'm not entirely sure how this has happened. I don't remember being asked. I don't remember asking. But I'm sat in an extremely fancy restaurant with Jordan, waiting for his dad and step-mum to arrive. I'm a complete bag of nerves.

Taking one look at the menu and I know that I'll never been able to afford a place like this. I am so far below their pay grade that if I didn't get into Oxford, I likely never would have met them.

I don't know how they're going to react to me. I don't know their names for heaven's sake! But I don't need to know what they look like to know when they arrive, because Jordan visibly stiffens next to me.

He wipes his hands on his trousers and his leg starts jumping up and down. I put a hand on it, hopefully to calm him, I'm pleased when he relaxes a bit.

Three people are led to us by an extremely prim looking waitress. One man in his forties who looks remarkably like Jordan and also not at all like him. A woman considerably younger, and then a man so old he is bent over a walking stick.

Jordan jumps up, sticking his hand out to shake. First the old man's, "Grandad." Then his dads, "Dad." Then his stepmum, "Camilla."

Camilla looks like the kind of woman to iron tea-towels. There is nothing out of place. Her blonde hair is perfectly styled, her clothes immaculate, her teeth pearly white. They all ooze money. Not just in the clothes but the way they walk, stand, talk.

It's intimidating at best, down right terrifying at worst.

"This is Autumn." Jordan says, simply.

"Lovely to meet you." Camilla smiles, giving me a kiss on either cheek. "This is Joseph and Jonathan." She gives a graceful wave towards Jordan's Grandad and then his dad.

Joseph. Jonathan. Jordan. I wonder what his brother was called.

"Enough with the pleasantries." Joseph snaps, making Jordan wince. His dad is yet to say anything. Joseph points to the table. "Lets sit."

We do. There is silence. Total, utter, stifling silence. I glance at Jordan but his mouth is wired shut.

"So," Camilla smiles at me. "Autumn, you study at Oxford too?"

"Yes." I say. All eyes are on me. My heart is pounding. "Linguistics."

"You speak many languages?" She asks.

"Yes. All modern ones at least."

"Well," Her laugh is soft and delicate. "That is quite delightful."

"What is taking the waitress so long?" Joseph demands. Camilla let's out another laugh as if he is joking. Bless her, she's trying to ease the mood.

Joseph clicks his fingers and I cringe. A waitress appears out of thin air, takes our orders and scurries away again. The table descends into complete silence.

Jordan turns to his Granddad. "I hear you bought a new holiday home?"

"Yes. In the Cayman Islands."

"Maybe you two lovebirds could visit there in the summer." Camilla says.

Jordan's mouth shuts, his dad glares at her. The air is so hostile and thick, I feel like I'm going to start choking on it.

"This is ridiculous." Joseph says. "Are we really going to play nice all evening and pretend this isn't insane?"

"Father-" Jonathan starts.

"No!" Joseph's tone is so sharp it feels like a blow. "This is utterly ridiculous. This family is one of the highest standing in England. We are friends of the royal family. There are rules that must be followed. We cannot allow any old riff-raff into our family just because your child has taken a liking to her."

"Joseph," Camilla says in a soothing voice. "I really don't think-"

"Enough!" Joseph snaps, turning his cold watery glare on Jordan. "You should know better then this. I know you've had your troubles, but I assumed at the end of the day you would pull yourself together and do what is right for this family."

Me. They're talking about me. They don't think I'm right for him. They think I'm riff-raff. My blood runs cold. What is this? The eighteenth century? Prince Harry married Meghan! The rules are out the window!

Joseph doesn't care about my obvious feelings. He continues. "You have always been made aware of what your responsibilities will be once you become of age. You're eighteen now. It's time to grow up."

Jonathan turns to Jordan. "I don't think you've really thought about what you're doing. She hasn't been bred like we have. She comes from a single mother with barely a penny to her name. She isn't one of us."

"Oh my God." Jordan mutters, anger on his face.

Jonathan turns to me. "I am sure you are a lovely, lovely girl. I assure you we mean no harm. But when we sent him to Oxford, we assumed he would be making wiser choices."

It's like I've been thrown into a horrible TV show. I didn't know things like this could happen. I haven't been bred well enough? What constitutes as good breeding? Or is it just about how much money you can hoard in the bank?

"It will never work between you two." Joseph says, he's one cold away from death but he's glaring at us with the life and anger of a twenty-year-old. "Certainly not with her in this family."

"That's it." Jordan barks. "That's enough. Get up. We're leaving."

I look at him, feeling totally like a deer in headlights. "We?"

Jonathan hands Jordan a piece of paper.

"What's this?" Jordan demands.

"Pre-approved names of girls you're allowed to bring into this family."

"Like cattle?" Jordan asks. Throwing the paper on the table. It floats down slowly but it feels like a loaded gun. "You want me to sift through the girls at uni like cattle?"

Joseph is blistering. "We want you to choose a suitable young woman! Not this street urchin that Oxford has favoured as charity!"

"Get up." Jordan snaps to me. "We are leaving."

I shakily stand to my feet.

Camilla has finally found her voice, "You don't need to leave. I'm sure we can discuss all this after dinner. There's no need to put a sour taste in everyone's mouth."

Jordan looks at her. "Trust me, it's already there."

Jordan takes me by the arm and starts pulling me through the restaurant. I think I might throw up. I might have to be sick on these extremely fancy carpets, forcing everyone else to look down their noises at me too.

"I don't get it." I mumble.

Jordan pushes me through the door and we're out into the cold air. "What is there to understand? They're insane. An institution would be better suited. The fact they get to sit on all their wealth and behave like that is astounding."

"He called me a street urchin."

Then, inexplicably and uncontrollably, I start laughing. I was the best student at my school. I got into Oxford. There is nothing I can't do if I want to, and some old man in a thousand-pound suit just called me a street urchin.

Jordan doesn't laugh with me. He looks at me like I'm insane, he takes my arm and starts leading me back to uni.

We're silent as we hit campus. Walking shoulder to shoulder. I think we're in shock. One of his low moods have descended on him. His eyes are dark, face sharp. I think he could fight a bear right now and win.

When he gets like this it's quite scary. I don't know how to handle it. It's like a bomb waiting to explode with the wrong footing. I'm scared I am that foot. I don't want to tip him over the edge.

When we get into our hall Jordan looks at me and says, "Goodnight."

Then he does something I'm not prepared for. He walks off to his room, closing the door behind him. He rejects me. We've seldom spent a night apart and this is when he chooses to do it?

I stare at his bedroom door for a long while. Waves of emotion crashing into me. He doesn't resurface.

Humiliated. Rejected. Sad.

I go to my room and cry.