Chapter 41

OLIVER

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Jude’s stunned expression was perplexing.

He wasn’t staring at me like I was the eighth wonder of the world. He wasn’t staring at me like I had just launched his surprise birthday party.

No. He looked… part surprised part horrified, like I was the last person he wanted to see. And something else…

I found my voice. “Jude…”

In the span of a blink, the expression on his face vanished as an indecipherable emotion shifted in his eyes before he looked away to the side. His jaw clenched. “Rick’s not in.”

My fingers curled before uncurling. “I’m… I’m not here for Rick…” I sputtered.

The muscles in Jude’s jaw were shifting so ferociously that he was likely sending his teeth to an early grave. A slight breeze suddenly grew to life, slapping his grey hoodie and sweatpants that hid those amazing legs I got to witness a few days ago.

I shook my head. I didn’t need those thoughts right now. They were doing nothing to help the increasing anxiety of the fact that the distance between Jude and I felt so wide, so torturous…

Like it would be unwelcome to move closer.

My eyes jumped to his face.

He was still not looking at me.

The courage that had been returning, that had been swelling in me relentlessly started to deflate like a popped helium balloon. Any thought about asking him about that question completely vanished in my mind.

All I could think of was the stunned confusion in his eyes as I lashed out at him that day.

I know a good deed isn’t supposed to be transactional but I helped you.

Shame bit into my skin like a dozen rusted iron nails.

“I wanted…” I swallowed. “I wanted to apologise for… for yelling at you the other day. I – “

“No.” It was a whisper.

“W-what?”

A tremor passed through Jude’s arms before he clenched his fists and turned in my direction.

Yes. He’s going to at least look at me.

But his eyes bounced to the ground, his head bowed. I couldn’t see his face unless I bent down or angled my head in a specific manner. I couldn’t see his facial expression.

A horrible silence drifted between us, so heavy it nearly made me pass out.

He didn’t want to hear me out. He must have hated me so much. Not that I didn’t deserve it.

But I low-key expected this. I’d subconsciously been preparing for him to close his ears off anything I would try to say.

However, my heart was lurching. Rejection was a sharp, vicious cactus thorn wedging itself through my chest. My eyes fluttered from the prick of impending tears.

“I – ” I started rapidly – no idea of the words I would spit out before I heard Jude’s sharp intake of breath.

“No. I should be the one apologising.”

I froze, my heart threatening to stop beating. I felt like I was standing at the edge of a cliff, waiting for an ominous giant hand to snatch me out of reality.

“I should be apologising. I should have a long time. But I was a coward….”

“Jude…” Alarm rose in me. His voice, always deep and intimidating, was now brittle and littered with cracks of hot emotion. Cracks I hadn’t heard since that night…

“You yelled at me,” he continued, “You yelled at me and I deserved it. I deserved more for what I’ve always done to you, what I’ve always said, how I’ve – ”

He shuddered before taking a moment to recollect. But when he spoke, his voice was still cracked. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry for calling you all those names, for making you feel like you weren’t a man when I wasn’t a man. I’m the coward. The fucking – fucking coward.”

His voice was laced with bitterness. He said the name ‘coward’ like it was twisting his guts, burning his veins like acid and slowly asphyxiating him.

“I’ve been a coward since my dad died. I’ve never really gotten over it. And I’ve been a jerk because I – I – ” he let out a shaky exhale.

Why was he calling himself that? He wasn’t a coward. He was a guy who’d lost someone he loved.

I hated that he called himself that. And I hated that I couldn’t tell him he was anything but that. Suddenly, I was back at my room that night, the horror of seeing someone’s suppressed emotions finally burst out, claw at their entire being and leaving them a raw husk of themselves too much to handle again.

But this time, I couldn’t comfort him. Unlike that night, my hands remained at my side, my feet glued to the ground. At that moment, Jude had been delirious with grief. I felt like I could help him.

Now, an invisible wall seemed to have been erected between us. He felt so faraway and he was speaking as if his words were being wrenched from him. Like what he was saying had been cooped up in his head, littered and scattered and only by speaking would they make sense.

I didn’t want to interrupt him.

After a moment, he took a short, deep breath. His arms were slightly trembling. “I’ve been a jerk because I didn’t know how to handle my dad’s death and made it a problem for everyone. You, mom, Rick…” He swallowed. “Rick’s not talking to me.”

What?

“He… He punched me.”

What?

“My own brother punched me.” The words tore through him again in a tight choke. I was certain there were tears behind those words but just like last time, they didn’t fall.

Every cell in my body was telling me to give him a hug. To give him a hug and never let go. But I restrained myself

After a moment of composure, Jude released a bitter laugh. He clutched his hair. “I don’t even know why I’m telling you this. I don’t even know what’s going on between you and I…”

Tell me about it.

“I’m sure you hate me. Who wouldn’t?”

There was so much self-loathing, so much disgust injected in those words that my feet were suddenly moving, finally unglued from where I stood. In a daze, I realised I’d come to a stop infront of Jude.

He was still staring at his feet, unaware that I was standing a few feet away from him.

I reached for his arm and was surprised at how tense and corded it was. I didn’t call out to him. Instead, I slowly rubbed his left arm.

It definitely – and finally – caught Jude’s attention. His eyes flicked before locking onto mine and I almost flinched. The look in them was straight up wild, barbaric and full of absolute devastation. I couldn’t believe that his puppy eyes were capable of holding such emotion.

He looked so defeated.

My heart squeezed just by looking at him.

“I’m sorry, Oliver,” he whispered, sounding like his knees would buckle at any moment.

I clenched the hand that wasn’t comforting him. I was so tired of hearing him sound like this. “You are not a coward.”

“I am.”

“No you’re not,” I started. “You saved me from Lionel. You protected me from your friends during that time in that bathroom – at least I think you did.” When he didn’t say anything, I took it as a yes and continued. “You calmed me down during my panic attacks. You’re a good person, Jude.”

“I’m not. I’ve been a jerk to you. How could you possibly say otherwise?”

“So what? You were a jerk. And? People change. You were a big reason why I decided to join the glee club. And you bought me – ” I stopped myself. I didn’t want to mention anything about the book he bought me. I still didn’t have the courage to ask him if he was serious about what he said. It would crush me if he actually wasn’t.

Jude closed his eyes hesitantly. The more I rubbed his arm, the more he seemed to calm down. We stayed like that for what must have been almost half an hour, stayed for such a long time as I rubbed his arm, as I watched different emotions chase themselves across his face ; Fear, anger, uncertainty, confusion and finally… a glimmer of hope.

When he spoke, his voice was still ragged but now more controlled, more measured. “Back in your room, I realised I like yo – ” he flinched, pausing like he was about to say something unfathomable.

“You like what?” I said gently.

Jude was silent for a moment. I could tell he was trying to be more cautious with his words now. Then he said, “I like your stories.”

I frowned before dropping my arm. “What do you mean?”

“I like the books you read. That’s why I bought you that book. I – I wanted to hear the story from you.”

My eyebrows furrowed further. “But wouldn’t you just read it for yourself? Why would you want to buy me that book?”

“It’s just…” He stared at the ground in frustration. I could tell he was so scared of what he wanted to say.

But I gave him time to think. I waited.

He bit his lip. “I like the way you speak about them. There’s a certain…joy you get while talking about them that makes me… makes me… want to listen to you all day long…”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.” He turned his head slightly away, like he was embarrassed.

My heart was fluttering. I tried to ignore the heat blooming in my face. It suddenly felt so hot but the biggest feeling was my chest caving in from the question I’d been meaning to ask him. “So what you said a few days ago? That was true?”

He nodded.

I was suddenly very hyper aware of how close we really were. I didn’t like how he had become suddenly very kissable. I mean he was always kissable and we’d kissed once before but now it felt like the ground would swallow me whole if I didn’t lean in to meet his lips.

It was frightening.

I took a small step back before taking a deep breath. “I think you should know that I read the book you gave me.” I shot him a gleaming smile.

His eyes brightened – and it really was the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen – before he cleared his throat. An air of nonchalance overtook him as he stuffed his hands deep into his pockets.

He shrugged. “I mean you can tell me all about it if you want. Or not if you’re in a hurry.”

But his eyes betrayed him. He was pleading with me to stay. Desperately.

My mind was still reeling from everything that just happened. From Rick punching Jude to Jude’s confession.

But I didn’t care. Nothing else mattered. Only Jude.

And I couldn’t say no to his gorgeous puppy eyes.

So I answered him by moving towards the door before opening it.

And I stepped inside…

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Aaaaaaaahhhhh!!!
Was I too dramatic writing this?
But this chapter deserved no less ✨️

This chap was important for these two characters but especially Jude.

Hope y’all liked it.
See ya💋