Never Really Over

Chapter 22

John sat in the underground car park of his apartment building for what felt like hours, staring at his reflection in the rear-view mirror waiting for his red eyes to stop betraying him. He didn't want Gigi to see how upset he was, he'd called Jenny on the drive back to Liverpool and once they'd finished talking, he'd started crying. Leaving Beth had been awful, he'd wanted to stay, just so they had one more night together for him to remember, but she had told him she didn't think it was a good idea. He knew it was the simple matter of Beth wanting to take back control, but the rejection hurt all the same.

"It doesn't have to be like the other times?!" John had said hopefully as Beth had walked him to the door. "We can still talk, maybe meet up..."

Beth had shaken her head, dashing any hopes he had of keeping her in his life somehow, "I'm not a booty call John."

It upset him, that Beth would believe he would ever just use her for sex. He also knew she was hurting, probably lashing out a bit, so he didn't push her. If she needed time to heal, then he'd give her it. He was almost resigned that they were fated to be also-rans, he and Beth were the Tottenham of the romance world, showing great potential but never quite making it, always falling at the last hurdle.

"I'm so mad at your right now," she had told him as he hugged her for the last time. He was mad at himself.

That anger threatened to bubble over into something much fiercer when he walked into his apartment to find the lights dimmed, candles on the dining table and Georgia in the kitchen, "What the hell is this?!"

"Jenny said you were on your way home, so I've made your favourite. It'll be ready in a few minutes."

There are steaks resting on the side, chips in the oven and a sauce heating in a pan on the hob; Georgia, despite having lived with John for the best part of a year, is oblivious to the restricted diet he eats by these days. He tries to avoid red meat, definitely does not eat chips, and there's cream in the sauce, he can't have that either. There's not a vegetable to be seen. Even if he was hungry, he'd been peckish again within an hour of eating this.

"I'm not hungry," he says brashly. It's not a lie, his appetite is non-existent. He wants to go to his room and brood over Beth alone.

"I better at cooking now, remember?!" Georgia laughs softly, her mum has taught her; it stands out to John how once Gigi had been able to read him, perhaps as well as Beth can, but now she can't see that he is pissed off at how quickly she has made herself at home, and not just wary of her cooking skills that were always as poor as Beth's.

"What's with the candles?" John eyes them scornfully.

"Thought it looked nice," Georgia shrugged shyly. There was a satisfied glow in her cheeks that John did not like; this morning she had looked distraught, and now she looked like she didn't have a care in the world, whilst he and Beth were both in pieces.

"Me and you," he says bluntly enough that he surprises even himself. "It's not going to happen Georgi. Not ever again." He realises now that she's changed her outfit, this morning she was in jeans and t-shirt, now she's wearing a dress covered in polka dots.

"But you chose me..." The glow disappears, and she looks like a needy little girl. There's nothing attractive about it to John, nor does it pull on his heartstrings.

"I didn't choose you," he shakes his head. "You're here because you need a mate. I'll be your mate, but that's it. If you're looking for a stand in daddy for your kid Georgi, it's not gonna be me." With that he stomps off to his room, wondering how he can have got himself into a situation where he has to hide away in his own home.