Forever Jude

38. If You

"Jo, let me go."

I shake my head and squeeze my arms tighter around Jude's middle, fighting against his attempt to remove them. "No."

"Do you want me to miss my flight?" he asks.

"Yes. That's exactly what I want," I reply. "You are not going anywhere."

"I'm fine, I swear."

I shake my head. "You are not."

The last thing I expected when I woke up this morning was to find Jude getting ready to leave for work.

He was in a daze when we got back to the condo last night. In bed, he tossed and turned all night.

I was too worried to sleep, but the fatigue caught up with me around four in the morning. Thank heavens I woke up when I did because I would have lost my shit if he'd been gone.

"I know what happened last night must have been scary," he starts.

I huff. "You think?"

"But it's perfectly normal," he continues.

Yeah, and he must be out of his mind.

"I mean it was a perfectly normal reaction to that kind of thing rushing into my brain out of nowhere," he adds. "It blindsided me. T-boned me, mentally. I panicked. For a moment, I was a lost nine year old. But that was it. It doesn't mean anything. It's over. I'm as good as new now."

"So what, you are going to act as if nothing happened?" I ask him.

"No," he says. "All I'm saying is I'm not in any danger. You don't need to be worried about me."

Yeah, as if that's even marginally possible. "What if it happens again?"

"It won't." Then he adds jokingly, "It can't catch me by surprise twice."

"That's not funny."

He sighs and runs his fingers along my arm. "I'll definitely talk about this with my therapist during our next session. I promise."

"When is your next session?" As far as I know, his sessions nowadays are few and far between.

He thinks for a moment. "Next...uh, in two weeks. I'll request an urgent appointment."

"Okay."

"Can you let go of me now?" He lifts his arm to check his wristwatch. "Unless you want me to have to drive six hours to the set."

I drop my arms and step back. He turns around and smiles at me softly. "I'll be okay, I promise."

I wish I could be as unworried as he sounds, but that's impossible. Last night is very clear in my mind, and the helplessness I felt is still hovering over me, threatening to overwhelm me.

It makes me anxious to just let him out of my sight. Is he really okay, or is he pretending to be? Is he putting on a front so I don't get worried? Does he remember everything that happened last night? The things he said?

His brow shoots upwards. "Why are you looking at me like that?"

"Like what?" I ask.

"Like you want to go to war with me."

Do I look like that? All I know is I'm suddenly breathing deep and fast. Like I'm...on the verge of a fight. So maybe I do look like that.

"If you leave me again, I'll never forgive you," I tell him.

His lips part silently. The playful expression falls from his face.

"You can process this however you want," I add. "But if you...if you think leaving me will solve anything, I'm telling you now, it won't. I'll be miserable, and I'll hate you. And I'll never, ever, forgive you."