Chapter 26

-Alison-

We deliberated back and forth until we finalized our new plan. Then, bidding everyone goodbye, I remained seated this time, Jared's arm encircling my calves, anchoring me in place. It was the only peculiarity they seemed to note, but they bid me farewell before departing. I waited until they had vanished from sight before subtly shifting my chair a few inches back, granting me a clearer view of Jared. He still lay with his head in my lap, prompting a moment of uncertainty. Had he drifted off to sleep?

"Jared? Are you sleeping?" I inquired softly.

"Almost," he murmured.

"Have you not been resting?"

"I can't," came his terse reply.

"Why?" I probed further.

He shook his head, signaling his reluctance to discuss it at that moment. Content to work from my seated position, I allowed Jared to linger on the floor with his head in my lap for another 15 minutes, tapping away at my laptop. While I hoped the peace and quiet would offer him solace, my curiosity soon got the better of me, diverting my attention from my tasks.

"Do you want to talk about it?" I broached the subject.

"With you?" he scoffed skeptically.

"Why not? There's nothing I can do to harm you," I reasoned.

He contemplated it as he remained on the floor, his reluctance obvious. Peering beneath the table, I observed him clinging to me.

"Jared, what happened earlier?" I whispered, concern lacing my words. "You didn't seem like yourself."

"I'm sorry, Alison," he breathed, his apology barely audible. My eyes widened in surprise. Jared had never before apologized to me, as there had never been a need. Momentarily taken aback, I questioned whether I had heard him correctly, yet the unsettling sincerity in his tone confirmed his words. Sensing the heaviness of the moment, I sought to lighten the mood.

"Don't worry. We both know I would have given in eventually," I chuckled, but Jared didn't share my amusement. He shook his head, his expression grave.

"You drive me to do things I wasn't even aware I was capable of," he confessed earnestly.

"Oh, I see. So it's my fault," I sighed.

"No, it's mine. I shouldn't have come," he admitted.

"Then why did you?"

"Because I've been trying to get you out of my head," he whispered, his voice tinged with frustration.

"Oh?" I murmured, unsure how to respond.

"It doesn't work. And when I'm with Astrid, if I don't think about our time together, I can't even... you know," he confessed, his discomfort evident.

My eyes widened in surprise as he revealed that he thought of our encounters when he was with his wife.

"I see..." I replied softly, at a loss for words.

"I thought... I thought if I came here and made it less exciting, more mechanical, then maybe it could be like what I feel when I'm with her," he explained, his tone heavy.

"Take the fun out of it," I clarified, understanding his reasoning.

He nodded in agreement. "You really think that would have worked? We both know I was a second away from saying ‘go for it'," I pointed out.

He groaned in frustration. "Why?" he snarled, his gaze piercing into mine as he turned his head.

"What?" I asked, caught off guard by his sudden intensity.

He turned his head, locking eyes with me. "Why would you let me do that to you? Just use you and then leave again?" he demanded, his voice tinged with both anger and confusion.

"Is it so different from what you've already done?"

"You're not my slave anymore. You shouldn't just be ready to bend over whenever I say so," he retorted.

"I think we're both forgetting that you still blackmail me," I reminded him pointedly.

"Exactly! So fight me! Tell me no," he demanded, his tone growing more insistent.

"And then you'll just leave? I thought you said you wanted to take the fun out of it," I teased, attempting to lighten the mood, but his demeanor remained somber. He seemed utterly dismayed by the decision he had made. With a sigh, I resumed stroking his hair, and he closed his eyes, leaning into my touch.

"You didn't hurt me," I reassured him gently, but he responded with a scoff.

"Right, you don't care about that," I said, a hint of amusement lacing my tone, given his recent actions had suggested otherwise. "But do you think we can confine those mechanical exchanges to a more discreet location, away from the prying eyes of passersby?"

He sighed heavily. "Don't try to make this into a joke. I don't know what the hell I was thinking."

"And as I've already told you, I wanted you. I always want you. That's why you came up with this solution, knowing I won't say no," I reasoned, trying to ease the tension between us. "I was just surprised because you were so reserved, stripping away all the banter. But you didn't hurt me, and you never could."

He tensed at my words. "Never?"

"Well, except for, you know, certain images that didn't exactly strengthen my marriage," I admitted candidly, feeling a pang of regret. "But I think we both know my marriage was already in trouble, and so in reality, you haven't caused irreparable damage."

"That's not exactly comforting to hear," he muttered.

"But," I pressed on, sensing his growing curiosity, "you have changed me."

Jared shifted, turning to meet my gaze. "Changed you?" he echoed, his expression a mix of confusion and intrigue.

"Changed me, yes. You've made me confess things I never thought I could and break boundaries I never thought I could breach. I've always been so compliant with most people in my life, Jared, and now I actually dare to say no to Warren, and I've told my mother I'm not interested in pretending everything is perfect," I confessed.

"It sounds like I've changed you for the better," he retorted, eliciting a chuckle from me.

"I think that depends on whose perspective you're looking from. To my mom and Warren, they hate it, but I think I like it."

"Then I've utterly failed. I haven't accomplished any of the things I wanted to achieve!" he snarled, his frustration obvious.

"I'm not so sure about that. Didn't you want to break me?" I questioned.

"Yes."

"Well, I think you've won gold in that regard, Jared. Because when we break, it does change us, but we can choose whether we want to pick ourselves up and change for the better or stay on the ground and wallow in self-pity," I reasoned.

"Then please lie down on the ground and cry about it," he ordered, prompting laughter from me.

"Well, you're holding onto my legs, so it's a bit hard to move," I countered.

Jared released my legs, allowing me to slide to the floor and move underneath the table to sit in front of him. However, as I looked at him, I noticed a haunted look in his eyes. He still seemed unhappy with himself, consumed by guilt.

"Jared," I called softly, taking one of his hands in mine, "don't feel guilty."

"I'm not!" he snapped, his anger flashing in his eyes, albeit briefly.

"Are you sure? Because it sounds to me like you're concerned about whether you've hurt me. Why else would you apologize to me?" I probed gently.

"I... I did scare you, didn't I?" Jared murmured.

"A little, I must admit. It's because you didn't speak like you usually do. But I didn't realize my fear was a concern of yours," I pointed out, seeking clarification.

"It's not."

"Again, you make very little sense. Why apologize to me then?" I pressed, observing Jared's gaze shifting down to our intertwined hands. He began to move his fingers, weaving them with mine and then sliding them back and forth in a soothing manner.

"Maybe I am a little sorry," he whispered, his admission surprising me.

"So you do feel guilty," I teased lightly, though Jared's serious expression contrasted with my playful tone.

"I just... need it to stop," he confessed quietly.

"I'm not sure what it is you want me to stop."

"It's not you who can stop it. It's me," he clarified.

"Okay. And how do you do that?" I inquired, eager to understand his intentions.

"I thought by staying away, but it seems it doesn't work. I can't even throw myself into work because I have to be patient right now," he admitted, frustration evident in his voice.

"Are you hunting someone?" I asked, curiosity piqued.

"I can't say."

"Right," I whispered. "Don't ask too many questions."

He nodded in acknowledgment. "It seems you are learning," he remarked.

I managed a faint smile, but Jared remained somber.

"I have too much time to think," he confessed softly.

"I'm sure Astrid is keeping you distracted," I suggested, attempting to lighten the mood once more.

"No, because I need to think hard with her as well," he groaned.

"Oh, right, about us."

"Our games are quite addictive," he sighed, his tone heavy with resignation.

"Yeah, I can't argue against that," I reluctantly admitted, acknowledging the truth in his words.

We continued to slide our fingers against each other, finding solace in the simple act, while we hid from the world like two kids. A strange calmness enveloped us both, a rare moment of tranquility amidst the chaos of our lives. I had never experienced this before. It felt... right.

"Why don't you hate me?" he suddenly asked, his question catching me off guard.

"Huh?" I responded, momentarily confused by his inquiry.

"Hate me. You should hate me," he clarified.

"I thought we had already discussed why I don't," I replied softly, reminding him of our previous conversations.

"No, we discussed why you didn't hate me as a kid, but Alison, I have hurt you, and I have humiliated you. I have done things that should make you hate me and remove any obsession that lingered. So why don't you?" he inquired, his gaze unwavering as he searched for an answer in my eyes.

I shrugged, contemplating his question. "Well, I can't say you haven't done anything that wasn't fair. You know, an eye for an eye. You only subjected me to a month. I spent years hurting you and humiliating you."

"Still, you can hate me. Fair might be fair, but it doesn't mean you can't also want to hurt me back," he pointed out.

"But then it just becomes a never-ending cycle. I can't deny I didn't think about it, but the more you told me about yourself, the more you made me see how much I had missed, I just started to let go."

"Can you teach me that?" he asked, his tone hopeful.

"Letting go?" I clarified.

He nodded earnestly, but I shook my head gently.

"Why not?" Jared asked.

"I'm tired," I reminded him. "I just want to focus on something else now."

"Putting on the mask?" he suggested knowingly.

"I'm not sure what I'm going to do," I admitted. "Maybe I'll continue with how things are, or maybe I'll do something else. I'm still in a transition period, and you keep coming into my life, messing it all up."

"Then help me find a way out!" he pleaded, desperation evident in his eyes.

"A way out?" I echoed, taken aback by his request.

"A way out."

"Are you saying...?" I began, but Jared hadn't explicitly stated his intentions. Perhaps I should have inferred it from his inability to stop thinking about our times together.

"Careful, Jared, you sound obsessed," I taunted him lightly, though his reaction was unexpected. His eyes darkened, and he reached for me, his hand wrapping around my neck as he pulled me closer to him.

I anticipated him denying it, but instead, he surprised me. His grip softened, his thumb tracing along my jawline.

"I don't want to be," he confessed, his admission catching me off guard. "But it's been pointed out to me that there might be a small part of me that... might obsess a little."

"Really?" I whispered, unable to hide the hopefulness in my voice.

"Don't think this changes anything. I hate you as much as I always have, but... but I have a tendency to seek you out, which I shouldn't."

"And now you're asking me to help you find a way to remove that tendency?" I summarized, seeking confirmation.

He nodded, but I already knew what my answer was going to be. "No."

"What?" he responded, taken aback by my refusal.

"I said no," I reiterated firmly.

"Alison, I can't keep coming back. I wasn't meant to seek you out at the party either. If you hadn't been taunting me, I wouldn't have!" he exclaimed, frustration evident in his tone.

"Well, it sounds like this enigma is something you're going to have to solve yourself, because I won't help," I insisted, crossing my arms in defiance.

"You will help me. I am ordering you to," he demanded.

I remained resolute. "No."

"Alison, I'm not kidding. How did you let go of your need for revenge? Tell me right now!" he pressed.

"No," I stubbornly replied. Despite his frustration, I noticed his touch remained gentle, a stark contrast to his demeanor when he first arrived.

"Alison, tell me!" he insisted, his patience wearing thin.

"No."

"Why are you so stubborn?" he hissed in frustration.

"This isn't about being stubborn," I countered firmly.

"Of course it is!" he argued.

"No, it's not. Because why would I ruin the opportunity to get what I want—you!" I exclaimed, gesturing toward him.

"I'm not yours!" he snapped, his tone sharp.

"It sounds like you might just be a little," I retorted, refusing to back down.

"I am not!"

"Okay, then go. Right now, and don't come back," I challenged, meeting his gaze defiantly.

He remained in his position, still stroking my jaw in that tender way, his touch easing away all the fear and worry from my life.

"You can't," I taunted with a smile, breaking the silence between us.

"I can leave," he stated flatly.

"But can't you remain gone?" I countered.

He sighed, his gaze dropping to the floor, and his hand fell limply by his side, as if surrendering to the argument. Instinctively, I reached for it, placing it back on my neck, surprising both him and myself with the gesture.

"Don't stop," I whispered softly, my voice barely audible in the stillness of the room.

He resumed his caress, a complete shock to both of us, but then he abruptly froze. "Tell me how you let it go," he demanded, his tone pleading.

I smiled faintly at his bargaining. "Bargaining with me for your touch?"

"I will eat your pussy right now if you tell me," he stated bluntly.

I chuckled, shaking my head at his directness. "I believe you, but this is actually my workplace, and I'm using my lunch break right now to console you."

"You"re not offering consolation as though I"m a weeping child in need of reassurance," he snapped in frustration.

"I wasn't saying you were. Sometimes needing consoling doesn't come from being sad," I gently reminded him, hoping to ease the tension.

He seemed at a loss for words, but his caressing hand resumed its gentle motion, and I allowed myself to enjoy the fleeting moment of closeness between us.

"Why won't you just tell me?" he pleaded again, his tone softened.

"I just told you why."

"I can't matter that much to you. You can find someone else!" he insisted.

"Jared," I whispered, meeting his gaze with sincerity, "there's no one else like you."

His eyes widened in disbelief, and his thumb halted its back-and-forth motion. He seemed shaken to the core, staring at me without a word before abruptly withdrawing his hand. I made no move to stop him as he extricated himself from underneath the table. I followed him, emerging from beneath the wood and observing as he walked away, though I remained in my place. As he traversed past the windows, appearing distressed, I sighed and sank into my chair.

"So that's what it takes to scare him off," I murmured to myself, regretting that I had spoiled the moment.