After You

Chapter Twenty-eight - Purple Rain

"This is all on me; too much, too soon.
You weren't ready, but I was too close to realise. I've done more harm than good.
Forgive me."
- Jude

I got a text message from Jude at lunchtime on Monday. When I saw his name light up my phone, I felt a surge of relief course through me. I'd been a fool to over-analyse his radio silence over the weekend. He'd obviously been busy with the boys, and had waited until they were safely back at school on the Monday before we sorted things out. But when I opened the message, I quickly saw that it was nothing more than a group text sent to everyone on his photography course, telling them that class was cancelled and that he'd let us know when it'd be rescheduled. I frowned, wondering what had come up, but I couldn't fathom an explanation, so I promptly called him.

'Jude?' I said, when he answered on the third ring.

'Hi, Meredith,' he replied, his tone weary.

'What's wrong? Why is class cancelled?' I asked, overlooking the fact that he'd left me in the lurch since Saturday evening; concern making me forgiving.

'Nothing's wrong,' he told me. 'Just a problem with the room. It's not available this week.' My body relaxed.

'Oh,' I said. 'Did... did you want to meet up anyway, seeing as we're not doing anything else?'

'Sure,' he said. 'I'll come to yours if you like. Is seven o'clock okay?'

'I'm not working today,' I told him, 'so whenever is fine with me.'

'Alright then. I'll see you later.' It was there again; that strange aloofness which made me feel as though a wall had slowly risen between us, built by stealth. His tone was flat. He didn't have that caressing, engaging quality to his voice, and knowing that I had the day off, Jude hadn't suggested spending more time together. Before Lake Garda he would have, but ever since, he'd been "busy" with his latest project, "busy" with the boys, "busy" with house-hunting. He'd even had to bail on one or two rowing sessions, because he just couldn't make the time for his own hobby. Or perhaps he's trying to avoid you? the little devil on my shoulder taunted.

I tried to brush the thought off, but it grappled with me, clinging, instilling doubt. I wondered if this was Jude's way of ending things; a slow demise, with us seeing less and less of each other until we no longer saw each other at all, so that no painful words had ever been spoken. I scrunched my nose in distaste. I did not want that to happen. I was going to take Carol's advice. I was going to tell Jude how I felt; not so that I could walk away if we weren't on the same page, but so that I could fight for us, even if he wouldn't.

***

'What the Hell happened to your face?' I asked, aghast, as I opened the door to Jude that evening. He had a bruise on his cheek; tracing across into a black eye.

'Got into a fight,' he said, guiltily. His look was peculiar. Suspicious. I narrowed my eyes and studied him as he slipped into our flat and toed off his shoes.

'A fight with Conrad?' I asked.

'Why would you think that?' Jude countered.

'Because you don't get on, and I can't see you fighting with anyone else.'

'Well,' he sighed. 'He had it coming.'

'You won, then? He came off worse?' I queried, darting my eyes to Jude's hands. The knuckles didn't look particularly inflamed. Jude's lips quirked into a sneering smile, and he dropped his head to look me straight in the eye.