Fleckless

Chapter 17

Lizzie's POV

Waking from a blissful dream, I stretch my limbs and instinctively reach out for Jake, but find the space beside me empty. Glancing at the clock, I'm surprised it's already 10 am; I must have slept longer than usual. Taking a moment to relish the sensation of relaxation that envelopes my body, I let my thoughts drift to the events of last night. The memory of Jake's departure weighs on my mind, stirring sadness. Determined to mend things, I resolve to reach out and reconcile with him.

I wish he could stay. I want him to stay. I don't want to lose him. Not when I have no one. Not now. Not ever. With determination fuelling my steps, I swiftly leave the bed behind and make my way to the kitchen.

Upon entering, a sight catches my eye—a silhouette against the balcony's backdrop. There stands Jake, his back turned towards me as he engages in a conversation over the phone. Clad in a sharp business suit that accentuates his handsome features, every detail seems meticulously crafted, from his perfectly combed black hair to the tailored fit of his attire. Despite his striking appearance, the pang of longing in my chest only intensifies at the sight of him, a silent plea echoing within me for him to stay.

With cautious steps, I approach Jake from behind, wrapping my arms tenderly around his waist. His body responds instinctively, leaning gently into my touch. As his hand finds mine, our fingers intertwine, a silent acknowledgment of the connection between us. With a simple gesture, he ends the call, prioritizing our moment together over any distractions.

"Hi beautiful," Jake's voice, tinged with vulnerability, breaks the silence, eliciting a soft smile from me. We remain in each other's embrace for a moment longer, savoring the warmth of our connection, before he gently turns to face me.

Taking my hands in his, Jake meets my gaze with an intensity that speaks volumes. In that shared moment, our eyes lock, conveying emotions too complex for words to express.

Releasing a breath I don't realize I am holding, I can't help but admire Jake's striking appearance. His features seem chiseled, his presence exuding a magnetism akin to a model gracing a magazine cover.

Feeling a rush of affection, I'm swept up as he leans in to place gentle kisses on my cheeks, his gestures tender and reassuring.

"I see you're already dressed," I whisper softly, my gaze drifting downwards momentarily. Sensing the shift in my demeanor, Jake's hand gently lifts my chin, urging me to meet his eyes once more.

"Baby," Jake's voice carries a sense of urgency as he speaks, his words drawing my attention fully. "Theo has called. It's urgent. I'm needed in London," he explains, the gravity of the situation evident in his tone. "My flight is booked for this afternoon. I'll be leaving at 2pm."

"Theo?" I inquire, my head cocked to the side. Jake's momentary confusion gives way to clarity as he continues, "Apologies for the oversight. Theo is actually my personal assistant. He's been managing affairs on my behalf while I've been away."

I nod in understanding," I quip, a playful smile tugging at the corners of my lips. "So, are you the prince of England that you require an assistant?" I tease lightly. Jake chuckles at the jest, the tension momentarily eased by the lighthearted exchange.

Jake's grin widens at my incredulous reaction. "Not far from it. I'm actually the owner of Regal Threads," he confirms, amusement dancing in his eyes. My hand instinctively flies to my mouth in disbelief. "No way?!" I exclaim, my voice betraying my surprise.

He stands there, chuckling softly at my reaction. With a playful slap to his hand, I add, "Can't be. The owner is a married man."

"Was a married man." Jake's response brings a sudden shift in the atmosphere, his words carrying a weight I hadn't anticipated. As he turns away to pour himself a glass of water, I can sense the tension radiating from him, his shoulders stiff and his expression masking any hint of emotion.

Approaching him at the sink, I gently place my hands on his tense shoulders, offering a soothing massage to alleviate some of the tension he's carrying. Despite his stoic demeanor, I can't help but feel a pang of concern for him, wondering what lies beneath the surface of his seemingly emotionless facade.

In the quiet moment, Jake stands by the sink, his gaze fixed on the distant horizon beyond the window. Holding the glass of water in his hand, he seems lost in thought, the weight of whatever burdens he carries evident in the furrow of his brow and the distant look in his eyes. I stand beside him, a silent presence offering support as he navigates whatever emotions swirl within him.

"I wasn't good enough for them," Jake whispers so softly that I can barely catch his words. The vulnerability in his voice pierces through the silence, revealing a depth of pain and self-doubt that he carries within him. My heart aches for him, wanting to offer comfort and reassurance in the face of his inner turmoil. Placing a hand gently on his arm, I wordlessly convey my support, silently promising to stand by him through whatever struggles he faces.

As tears threaten to spill from Jake's eyes, he straightens, his resolve evident as he wipes them away. In his attempt to compose himself, the glass slips from his grasp, shattering into a million pieces as it meets the unforgiving floor below. The sound of the glass breaking echoes through the room, a stark reminder of the emotions unleashed in this moment of vulnerability.

Rushing to his side, I wrap my arms around him, offering a steady presence amidst the chaos of emotions swirling within him. Together, we stand in the aftermath of the shattered glass, united in our shared strength to weather whatever storms come our way.