30. You Couldve Just Asked
Chapter thirty
You Could've Just Asked
“I t would be very helpful for you to be there,” my dad said.
I gritted my teeth, staring into my bowl of yogurt. “I can’t commit to any more events. Classes are starting and I don’t know what my schedule will be like.”
“I am not asking for much, Eleanor,” he said.
“It’s Nellie, Max.”
I blinked and looked up at Kimberlee, who was sipping sparkling water in her spot across the table from my dad. My dad looked back at her, his face unreadable, before clenching his jaw.
“Nellie,” he said. “I am asking for one, maybe two additional visits.”
“And I am telling you, I need to figure out what my semester is going to be like,” I repeated, trying to keep my voice calm.
He looked unimpressed. “Fine. What about Thanksgiving?”
“What about it?”
“You could attend something that weekend, no?”
“I go to Mom’s for Thanksgiving.”
He sighed impatiently. “It is one holiday—“
“And I spent it with you for seven years in a row,” I interrupted. “I saw Mom for one weekend this summer. I’m not giving up Thanksgiving just to impress a client you don’t even have yet.”
“Fine.” He picked up his coffee cup. “I will keep this in mind.”
“Please do.”
He set a stony look on me. “I hope you will keep in mind how much support you receive and reconsider your opinion on this.”
“Well, if I don’t, you can always ask JP if he’ll go and impress the Martelles for you.”
The air between me and my dad didn’t get any less tense over the rest of breakfast. But I wasn’t sure I actually cared. Because of course, my dad wanted more from me. Of course he saw that I’d made a connection with someone Very Important, and now he wanted to use that for his own benefit.
But I’d done what I’d agreed to. I’d held up my end of the deal.
I didn’t owe him anything else.
Once breakfast was over, I went upstairs and finished packing, making sure to take anything I was certain I didn’t want to leave behind. Because theoretically, this was the last time I had to be in Montreal.
I didn’t know if I could actually cut myself off from my dad. Not because I might need something from him, but because beneath it all, beneath the negative assumptions and all the ways I knew I disappointed him, he was still my dad.
But just in case, I wanted to make sure I took my favourite dresses and swimsuits and hoodies, my shoes and mementos and the one pillow on my bed that was way better than the pillows I had at my apartment.
When I went back downstairs, my dad pretended we hadn’t been fighting over breakfast and I played along like I always did, hugging him goodbye and pretending to insist I didn’t need Pierre to carry my bag out to the car for me.
Although, this time, I didn’t insist quite so hard and actually did let him carry it out.
After all, it’s not easy to pretend you’re not walking stiffly when you are indeed walking very stiffly, and it’s especially hard to do that while carrying a heavier-than-usual suitcase.
It wasn’t that I was in pain. My ass itself didn’t hurt, which was a relief because… well, obviously that was something that could happen. No, I was walking stiffly because of just how hard we had fucked.
Which was fair, because it had been so hard.
But I didn’t exactly want that to be obvious.
Unfortunately, even if I didn’t make it obvious, it was an obvious enough risk that someone had put a Post-It note on my windshield during the night. Text me before you leave Xoxo
I rolled my eyes, then took out my phone while Pierre loaded my bag into the car.
Me
What do you want?
Bastard
One sec.
Sighing, I waited impatiently for his response, but I didn’t get one until Pierre had closed the trunk and told me to drive safe before walking away.
And then, it wasn’t the response I’d expected.
“Morning, Nellie!” JP said cheerfully as he strode across the Marchands’ lawn.
“What the hell?” I asked, glancing behind him. “What are you doing here?”
“Saying goodbye,” he said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.
“Why?”
“Isn’t that what friends do?”
“Are we friends?”
He shrugged, smirking. “And also making sure you’re doing okay.”
I rolled my eyes. “You could’ve just asked.”
“Yeah, and you would’ve just lied.”
“Well…”
We both chuckled.
“So you’re okay?” he asked.
“I’m fine.”
“Good.”
There was an awkward pause and I swallowed hard.
“Okay,” I said. “So, if that’s everything—”
“Not really.”
He cleared his throat and my stomach dropped.
He lifted a hand to his head, running his fingers through his hair, and my chest clenched.
His eyes looked to the side, like he was drawing strength by looking away, and every warning bell in my body clanged at once.
“I was thinking about stuff after I got home last night,” he started. “And I just wanted to know if maybe... like, I know we… but would it really be so bad if—”
“Yes.”
He fell silent. I felt guilty.
“Don’t do this to me,” I whispered.
“I’m not doing anything.”
I swallowed hard, then reached out and nudged his arm.
“Come on,” I said, trying to sound light-hearted and keep my voice down at the same time. “I’m your sister’s annoying friend. Remember that time I glued all your deodorant and body wash bottles closed?”
“I do,” he said, his mouth twitching.
“I make fun of you all the time. I call you a sleazebag. You should be trying to get rid of me.”
He laughed, an easy, casual sound that had a sense of relief in it. “Right. And you think I’m hideously ugly.”
“Just the worst. I can’t even look at you.”
“And Anne-Marie would never let us live it down.”
“Never. And I’m also done with Montreal.”
“You are?” He sounded surprised.
“I mean, that was the last event I needed to go to, so…”
“Right. Of course.” He looked like he wanted to hug me or something, but that would’ve been too much. “Congrats. You made it through the summer.”
“Thanks.” I bit my lip. “Although, I mean, I might be back.”
“Yeah?”
I shrugged. “My dad mentioned he might need me to come to some other things, I guess. And I might have to, like, visit or something.”
“Well, you know where to find me if you do,” he said, then smiled. “Have a safe drive, babe.”
“Bye, bastard.”
And that was it.
Well, that should have been it.
“ Chérie !” came a shrill shout just after JP walked away and I was about to get into the driver’s seat.
“Fuck,” I muttered, closing my eyes briefly before turning to watch as Anne-Marie barreled over from next door.
“You cannot be leaving without saying goodbye!” she said as she stomped up to me.
“I thought you weren’t home,” I said.
“Well, had you said goodbye last night, that would not be a concern.” She folded her arms, though she was trying not to smirk. “I did not see you and Jean-Paul leave the gala.”
“I mean, I tried to find you,” I said, which was true. I’d kept an eye out for her so we could avoid running into her as we left. “But you know I was only there because I had to be.”
“Yes, and you must have known I would want all the details about your little tête-à-tête with Pia Martelle.” She leaned against my car, grinning. “I heard you impressed her and your father.”
My face flushed red. “Apparently, she thought I was funny or something.”
“Mmm. And then you immediately left, right after that?”
“No,” I said. “I left after my dad’s speech, like I told you I would.”
“Hmm,” she said again. “Do you know something funny, though?”
I had a feeling whatever it was, I wouldn’t find it funny. “What?”
“My brother was not home when Remy and I returned last night.” She tilted her head to the side. “You wouldn’t happen to know anything about that, would you?”
“I think JP mentioned Marc-Andre’s at a friend’s cottage for a bender this weekend,” I said. “So it would make sense he wasn’t home.”
She gave me an unimpressed look. “ Jean-Paul was not home when we got home.”
“Oh,” I said. “I dunno. Maybe he went out after we got back. We did leave pretty early.”
“His car was on the driveway, though.”
Fuck. “Okay. Maybe he Ubered somewhere? You could ask him. He literally just walked back into your house.”
“I did ask him,” she said. “And it’s so funny, because he says he did not Uber anywhere, but he went to a girl’s place after the gala.” She looked at me pointedly. “And he will not tell me who.”
I stared back at her blankly. “I guess you’ll have to ask him again. He didn’t say anything to me about going to a girl’s place after dropping me off.”
Her eyes gleamed with laughter. “Jean-Paul said if I really wanted to know what he was up to, I could ask you, because he told you on the way home.”
“JP is fucking with you, Annie. You know that as well as I do.”
“Do I?” she asked.
“What’s more likely?” I folded my arms. “That JP is playing a game with you? Or that I know all these details about a mystery girl he met up with last night?”
She twisted her mouth to the side and finally conceded that JP was probably just teasing her. After hugging me and wishing me a safe drive home and making me promise that we’d go out to the clubs the next time I was in Montreal, I got into the car and started it.
Just as I did, I noticed movement next door, and caught JP grinning at me as he walked out to his car. I could almost see his eyes sparkling as he raised a hand and waved cheerfully.
Rolling my eyes, I started backing out of the driveway. Once I was on the road, I glanced in the rear view mirror. JP was still standing there and he waved again, then blew me a kiss. Trying not to laugh, I flipped him off before driving away.
He was such a bastard.