Frosted (Hate at First Flight #3)

27. Finding Out the Complicated Truth

The silence stretched out for so long that it became almost as insurmountable as the Pacific Ocean.

Both of us continued to watch each other, each one gauging the other's thoughts as the silence continued to drag on.

The mask that Jace usually wore had slipped and in it's place was a look torn between concern and an almost innate look of fear that I couldn't quite place.

Why was the answer to my question one that would prompt that expression?

An expression that was as foreign to Jace's face as oil to water, one that did not mix well.

The harsh beeping of the fridge because of the open door broke the silence, jarring the both of us from the reverie that had fallen.

Jace tore his eyes from mine and proceeded to close the fridge. Then he stood in front of it, staring at the door as if it contained some hidden clue on what he was to do.

"Phillipa," he began, his voice came out a whisper that I would've missed had I not been waiting for him to speak. "I..."

"It's a simple question, Jace," I said, my voice almost harsh and cold as I demanded an answer. "Why did you really move halfway across the world? Was it really because of her?" I didn't like how strangled my voice sounded when I referred to Olive.

Even four years since then, the thought of her left a sour taste on my tongue.

He finally turned back to face me, his over six foot stature towered over me. "Phil, it's -" He paused, bit his lower lip, his brows furrowed together in thought. "I went to Oxford because..."

I waited for him to continue.

"...it was something I needed to do."

"Was it because of her?"

He nodded.

I digested his words, nodding as I did.

"Olive and I-" he began.

I cut him off, "Well, then that's really all I needed to hear." I felt my face start burning up in embarrassment.

What had I expected? For him to say that it was all a misunderstanding?

"Good night, Jace," I said as I turned around and started making my way upstairs.

"Wait, Phil!"

I stopped just by the foot of the stairs, my eyes fixed on the mahogany flooring that seemed much more interesting than on the person staring firmly at me.

"Let me explain."

"You've explained enough, Jace," my voice came out shaky and breaky. I started up the stairs, only wanting to disappear into my room and stay there for the rest of our time here.

"Olive and I..." his words reached me yet my feet kept moving. I had no intention to listen to him, "we're just friends."

I stopped just a couple of steps from the second floor landing and turned to face him. "What do you mean?"

"Exactly that. We were just friends. We never dated or had feelings for each other."

His words hung in the air as we stared at each other.

His eyes were firmly fixed upon mine, willing me to believe his words as I stared back, wondering just how much of what he said I should believe.

"Then why?" I managed to conjure up the words to ask.

"I had..." he stopped himself, his eyes torn. "It's complicated, Phil. You just ... just believe me please. It's not that I - It's complicated."

I chuckled darkly at his excuses. "It doesn't seem complicated to me, Jace. If what you said earlier is true, then there's only one reason that I could think of." My eyes narrowed at him.