Page 7 of And They Had a Great Fall

The past year had certainly not built upon their relationship.If anything, it should have fractured it, Jake thought. But here she was. She’d shown up when he’d asked. He had done nothing in the past year that would warrant her coming to him.She should have said no, he thought wryly,she should have told me to fuck off. But instead, there she was, filling up his wine glass.

Cabernet. His favorite, a welcome indulgence after the day he’d had. He took a long sip, swallowed, and felt the warmth of red wine run down his throat. He turned the bottle, looked at the label, and said, “Oh, wow. This brings back memories.” He gave her a mischievous grin as he set the bottle back down.

The wine flooded his body with a distinct, sensory memory of the start of their friendship, forged in the beginning of the pandemic. He’d left his current rental flat in London and had flown home to shelter in place with his parents. He hadn’t lived full-time under their roof since he was seventeen, so being quarantined with them in his twenties was jarring. Gone was his freedom and entire sense of independent livelihood. Jake remembered that period as a time of crushing isolation, trapped in a bubble that quickly became depleted of air. He’d been holding his breath, trying to make sense of an uncertain future.

He’d met Kat when she’d hosted dinner for his family. The two families were an agreed upon “pod” so his parents could continue to help Kat with Becca. Because Jake was rarely home before lockdown, he’d not met Kat until that night. When shewas there, he felt like there was more oxygen in their tiny bubble. She was the deep breath he needed, and their friendship came quick.

On Friday nights, it became their routine to share a bottle of cab as soon as Kat’s Zoom meetings had ended and Becca was in bed. That particular night they were lounging on the floor, balcony door open, listening to the eerily silent New York City.

They’d passed the time by looking through scripts that Roger, Jake’s agent, had sent over. Productions had installed safety protocols, and he was desperate to get back to work. They had tried to stay quiet and not wake Becca, but their laughter over the absurd projects had been free flowing. Jake remembered the exact moment he’d decided to shatter their friendship. He’d been warm and happy from too much wine, and the only thing he’d wanted at that moment was to kiss her. He’d stopped laughing, leaned forward, and put his hand on her cheek.

Catching and holding her gaze, Jake had whispered, “Can I kiss you?” With lips only inches away from her, his youthful boldness had bordered on arrogance.

“No,” she’d said, and pulled back, breaking the momentary connection.

“No?” he’d asked, incredulous, the mood momentarily broken. Honestly, no woman had ever told him no. At least, not since he’d been fifteen years old and had finally lost his virginity with Nikki Allen. One thing he’d gotten used to with burgeoning celebrity was that no one ever said no to him.

Kat had looked straight in his eyes and whispered, “Because you’re too young for me. And I’m too broken for you.” Jake had fixed her with an intense stare. He was disarmed by the vulnerability in her response; he’d never wanted anyone more than at that moment.

Again, he’d leaned toward her, whispering, “I’m not that young, Kat. And I like things that are broken.” He gestured to abook on the shelf behind her. “In fact, I have a weird fetish with Humpty Dumpty.” He’d smirked, and she’d let out a laugh.

“Damn you,” she’d whispered, and had crashed her lips into his as if she were angry to be kissing him. She’d nearly knocked him backward, but once he’d processed what was happening, he had put one hand back on her cheek and one on the back of her neck to slow the kiss down. He had wanted to savor the feeling of their lips pressed together, clinging to the one thing that made him feel alive again.

Kat watched Jake and could see he was remembering their first night together during the pandemic. His eyes lingered on her, waiting for her commentary. She furrowed her brow at him and spoke, “It’s alsomyfavorite wine. By the way, it was my favorite beforeandafter the Humpty Dumpty incident,” she said, smirking at him.

“Oh, isthatwhat we’re calling it now?” he asked, taking another sip and returning her smirk. His eyes were sparkling. He looked happy, and she started to wonder what had made him call her, near dawn, sounding so desperate and lost. Now, sitting here, they were bantering like they still lived next door to each other.

“Speaking of eggs, are you hungry? Did you eat yet?” she asked. “Unless you’re tired. Oh shit, it’s 12:30 a.m. Man, jet lag feels so weird.” She was so tired that it had seeped into her entire being, and she could no longer discern the difference between levels of exhaustion. He looked drained when she really examined him—she could see it in his body language and the dark shadows under his eyes. She had never seen him look so depleted.

“I don’t sleep much these days. I do need a shower though,” he said, running his fingers through his hair. “Iamhungry. Starving. I didn’t eat much on set today. Sorry. There’s no foodin this apartment. I thought I would get back here much earlier, and we would go out.” He glanced at his watch. “Not sure who delivers this late.”

“Well. You’re lucky I’m here,” she said, her voice light. She reached into his refrigerator and pulled out some eggs and cheese. “I picked these up down the street at Kihoskh. I got here and realized you had nothing, and my crushed pretzels from the plane weren’t going to cut it. How about breakfast for dinner?”

“What? You don’t want a protein shake for dinner?” he asked, gesturing to the empty cabinet. “And it’s technically time for breakfast.” He pointed to the clock on the microwave. “Officially morning,” he said over his shoulder as he walked toward the bathroom to take a shower.

Kat watched him walk into the other room and felt a familiar flutter in the pit of her stomach. She tried hard to ignore it, but the feeling of his hands running through her hair, his breath on her neck, came rushing back. She’d forgotten the pull of his natural charm and how quickly he captivated her.

Shehadbeen angry months ago when he’d disregarded their plans to meet in New York. But more than angry, she was disappointed. The hurt was deep, and she realized that although her brain agreed to harbor no expectations, her heart certainly had them. She hadn’t talked to him in months, not because his leaving warranted silence, but because it was the only way she could protect herself.

She wanted—needed—to protect herself and wouldn’t let anyone break her any further. Ben’s death had broken her in ways she couldn’t have imagined. Of course, it broke her heart to lose the first real love of her life and the father of her child. That pain, she’d anticipated. But his death had also stolen her ability to see unpredictable possibilities in life.

She now understood how unexpected mortality can comefor you, and it altered her entire approach to living. She couldn’t leave anything to chance, because she owed it to Becca to bring stability and safety to the forefront of their lives. If she was honest with herself, she couldn’t remember the last time she allowed herself to take a risk, even if it was for her own happiness.

Actually, she did remember. It was the night she’d first crashed her lips into Jake’s, yearning to feel alive again. And shehadfelt alive. Until he’d left.

He hadn’t lefther; he’d left the country for his career, which often took him across the globe for months or years at a time. He wasn’t someone who could bring stability into her life. For that reason, she believed that she could desire him, but she needed to keep her walls up so that he didn’t distract her from the real reason she was in Copenhagen.

Yes, she thought,I can keep my distance. After all, I’m really just here for work. She would spend the next ten days getting global experience, gain extra points at work, help Jake through whatever mental demons had driven him to call her the other night, and maybe squeeze in a little fun. She most certainly would not allow herself to fall into him. Not again.

Jake emerged from the bedroom with wet hair, wearing only a pair of soft bamboo shorts. He felt more awake after the shower, and his stomach growled. He walked up behind her as Kat put their breakfast-dinner on two plates. Leaning over her shoulder, he saw her constructing an egg-and-cheese sandwich on a bagel. “Whoa. You didn’t!” he exclaimed. “Are those Liberty Bagels?” She’d packed his favorite bagels, and he felt a rush of affection toward her for remembering.

“Yes! From JFK though. They have a kiosk at the airport now. They’re not as good as the actual bagel shop, but I figured it was better than nothing.” She shrugged.

“You are a legend,” he said, picking up both plates and moving to the table. “Seriously, thank you. This makes me happier than you know.” Taking a bite, he was transported straight back to New York.

He missed home. He’d returned to the city only once in the past year, to attend his grandmother’s funeral. The visit had been fraught with sadness and conflict. He and his parents had fought about how long he had been gone, and they’d all but accused him of abandoning the entire family, including his grandmother, who passed before he could say a proper goodbye. The guilt had eaten away at him until it had transformed into anger, and he’d lashed out.

That fight was why he’d left early, despite asking Kat to come home from San Francisco to see him while he’d been in town. She believed it had been a schedule mix-up, but he’d left the city in a destructive mix of anger and frustration. Afterward, Kat ignored his texts and calls for months, reminding him how unforgiving she was when she was angry.

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