Off Limits

‘You told me you’re fucking me because of her—so, yes, I want to know.’

His face pales. ‘Fine.’ His teeth are gritted. ‘What else?’

I drink some wine and eat another piece of sushi, chewing on it thoughtfully. ‘She died of cancer?’

He nods.

‘And...?’ I prompt.

‘And what, Gemma?’

‘Well, what kind?’

He expels an angry breath. ‘Chronic Lymphocytic Leukaemia. Stage Four. It was a terminal diagnosis.’

I wince. ‘I’m so sorry.’

‘Why? It’s not your fault.’

I understand his anger and aggression.

‘Nothing could be done?’

His eyes meet mine and he shakes his head. I feel like he’s holding something back, but I don’t want to push him anymore. Not about this.

Sympathy trumps curiosity. So I let it go.

‘This is delicious,’ I say instead, reaching for another piece.

And he visibly relaxes, as though he’s been in hell and I’m unlocking the gate.

‘Yeah.’

‘Do you spend much time here?’ I look around the palatial apartment, seeing it almost as if for the first time.

‘I used to.’ His smile is tight. ‘So...Nanny Winters, huh?’

‘No, no—you don’t get to change the subject.’

He laughs. ‘I can do what I want.’

‘That’s not our deal.’

‘Your parents worked full-time?’

It’s so like Jack to push on with his line of questioning just because it suits him.

I stare at him. ‘Not really.’

‘Yet you were raised by a nanny?’

‘I had three nannies,’ I say, grabbing a piece of avocado sushi and eating it, then sipping my wine. ‘Nanny Winters oversaw the other two.’

‘Three nannies?’ His voice is bordering on a scoff. ‘So you were a handful even as a child?’

I roll my eyes. ‘Did you not hear my thunderstorm story?’

‘A runaway and a handful?’ He nods with mock seriousness.