“To me, you’re Jem and not the Jem Jones they say you are. This Jem is a good guy. Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise. They don’t know you.”
A muscle twitches in his cheek. “You don’t know me.”
“I know enough,” I say quietly. “You’re good. In here.” I place a hand on his chest and he flinches. “Don’t you like being touched?”
“If it’s you, I don’t mind.” He gives a small smile and curls his hand around mine.
Jem’s words confuse me considering his reaction two days ago. The kiss. His freak out. Now his knight in shining armour routine from last night. I hated him yesterday for how he treated me, but now he’s back to taking care of me, looking at me in the way he once did. My head is screwed. Everything is screwed and I shouldn’t be here, with him.
Yet there’s no other place in the world I feel calmer or safer right now.
“Just no kissing?” I ask.
Jem’s grip on my hand tightens. “I came to apologise last night. That’s the reason I was there.”
“Whatever the reason you were there, I’m glad. And you don’t need to explain yourself. I just wish you’d left things and not kissed me the other night. You messed with my head, Jem.”
“Yeah, I messed with my own too. I couldn’t stand the thought I’d hurt you more by being such a dickhead.” With his other hand, he strokes hair from my face. “Did I? If I did, I’m sorry.”
I shrug. “I’m used to it.”
“Exactly. I spend weeks telling you to believe in yourself, to show you how much you’re worth to the world, and then I do that to you.”
“Just forget,” I say, smiling in a way I hope fools him into thinking I’m not bothered.
Jem reaches to touch my cheek and I shift so he doesn’t. “Your face… If I ever see that fucker again…”
“Bit of a mess, but nothing permanent. At least he didn’t break my nose.”
Jem scowls. “The way you deal with this is wrong. Don’t play this down.”
“Jem, I’ve reported this to the police like I promised, but I’m too tired for any more lectures. I need to deal with this in my own way. Surely, you of all people understand that.”
He nods slowly. “But we need to talk; we can’t leave things as they are, you understandthat.”
“I know. But not now. I need a smoke and a rest.”
Jem drops his hand and I grip onto the illusion I’ve created around myself today—the strong girl coping with the pain and fear of the situation in a way people commented how brave I am. But I’m not fooling Jem, and if I stand here for a second longer, I’ll break down in front of him, and if I do, I’m not sure what’ll happen.
Aware heavy words hang between us and as the anxiety grows with my nicotine craving, I offer Jem a reassuring smile I’m sure he doesn’t believe and head toward his garden and the fresh air I’m about to pollute.
I take up my usual spot on Jem’s patio, sitting on the edge of the wooden chair as I light up and stare at his neatly mown patch of green in the middle of the city. Of course, he has a gardener, to go with his cleaner. The garden is bordered with white and yellow roses, my favourite flower. The ones I have etched on my skin.
I stub the cigarette in the terracotta tray and sit back, focusing my mind away from anything Dan, Jem, or painful. The door bangs and Jem stands in the doorway, watching me silently.
“What?” I ask. “You’re freaking me out staring like that.”
“They both stopped me,” Jem says.
I shake my head at his sudden comment. “Who did? What are you talking about?”
“The kiss.” He rests against the doorframe.
“Jem. Forget it.”
“I can’t.”
“You don’t have to explain. It’s cool.”