"Have you seen the reviews yet?", I suddenly heard Zoe's voice seemingly out of nowhere, making me drop my wallet in freight.

"A little warning would be nice, Zoe!", I glared at her, before turning back to the counter and taking the cup of tea that the barista was giving me.

"What? It is not my fault that you have been all jumpy, lately. You seriously need to relax George or get lade; preferably both. Maybe then you will stop acting like you're in PMS all the time.", she continued with her verbal assault while I studiously ignored her and made my way to a free table in the corner of the cafe.

"I have.", I said, answering her original question after taking a sip of my tea and sighing in content as the slightly bitter liquid traveled down my throat warming me up from the inside.

I will never understand why people usually prefer coffee over a nice cup of black tea. In my opinion, there was nothing better, but, seeing as I was part British perhaps it was just my roots that were coming out to the light.

"If I had known that me walking out of my own exhibit before the last of the visitors had left would make me sell even more of my paintings, I would have never even shown up to the previous ones. People in this business are strange.", I said with a playful smirk, even though we both knew that I was only part-joking.

Zoe laughed and rolled her eyes, before regaling me with a detailed retelling of her date from the night before and boring me to death in the process.

Do I look like I care?

I had too much of my own problems to listen about her latest conquest. And the more I listened the more I became unsure if I was feeling sorrier for myself, for having to endure this torture, or for the pure guy who had to actually date the pink-head.

She eventually ran out of steam and left, thank God for small mercies, which meant that I was finally free to go home.

I could already picture myself on the beautiful, comfy sofa in my living room, snuggled beneath a pile of thick blankets with my favorite book to keep me company since Brady was spending a few weeks with his father when I pulled up to the driveway and froze.

"No", the thought echoed around my mind as I frowned at the sight of the last person I wanted to see, standing in front of my house.

Jake was leaning against the wall beside the front door, his giant, muscled body clad in tight black jeans and a green sweater that was peaking out of his unbuttoned leather jacket.

How was it possible that he looked like a walking commercial in our age, when I felt like a grandpa on my best days, I thought while debating if I should just start the car and drive away before the man saw me, but I refused to run again. This was my house, for Christ's sake and if anyone should leave, it should be Jake.

"What do you want?", I asked him as soon as he was in the earshot, while I searched for my keys that have decided to disappear in the bowels of my bag just when I needed them the most.

"Hello to you too, George.", Jake said cheekily at which I threw him a glare, making his smile slip.

Jake stood tall, squaring his shoulders, his face a picture of seriousness as he regarded me quietly.

"Sorry. I was just wondering if we could talk? I know that I am not your favorite person in the world, but please.", he said after a moment.

I watched him fidget in place, suddenly seeming nervous, and even though I knew that I should just decline the offer and send the blond on his way, I couldn't.

"Talk.", I said, rather harshly, as soon as the two of us got in, feeling already on edge as being in close proximity to Jake made my skin crawl.

As much as I've tried to forget, to move on and tell myself that what happened with Jake was in the past, my body still reacted to the man as if no time had passed at all. It still remembered his touch, the warmth of his breath on it, the feeling of those lips trailing all over its skin and after all this time spent away, it was singing in happiness.

Jake was standing in the middle of the living room, his large frame appearing even bigger in the small room. He looked lost and like he didn't know where to begin or what to do now that he got what he wanted, and all I kept thinking was how right it seemed, having the man there in my home.

I mentally stomped on that thought, not even considering going down that road.

The man is married for God's sake!

"Well, first, I wanted to congratulate you again. I know how much owning a gallery meant to you, and I am happy that your dream came true.", he said and I nodded in thanks without looking at him while making my way to the sofa since my legs have decided to turn to jelly for some reason.

"The main reason why I came is that I wanted to apologize.", he said, before coming to sit beside me, but thankfully not too close, leaving a large gap between our bodies, even though to me, it still seemed not far enough.

"For what?", I couldn't help but ask, my eyes flying to Jake's in confusion, completely forgetting my decision not to look at the man.

"Take your pick.", Jake snorted softly.

"For lying about what actually happened that day. For leaving as I did. For ignoring you. I could sit here all day listing all that I did wrong."

He stopped talking for a moment, our eyes glued to each other, and I knew that we were both remembering that awful day.

"I knew I was wrong back then, but I was young, stupid, and selfish, and I ended up hurting you, even though that was the last thing I ever wanted. That's what I am sorry the most about. You were first and foremost my best friend and I threw it all away, and I am so sorry."

We sat there in silence for a few minutes after Jake was done talking, as the blond looked at me while I stared at the unlit fireplace.

My brain was curiously blank, and I knew that I was supposed to say something, but I honestly didn't know what.

I've spent years after we split waiting and imagining Jake coming back and apologizing to me; countless scenarios going through my mind as I lay alone in bed staring at the ceiling.

In some of them, I would yell at him and throw him out, eager for the blond to suffer as much as I had. In others, though, I would accept his apologies and we would live happily ever after. And yet, this was not a fantasy of a teenage boy, but real life and it was high time for us to act like it.

"Why now?", I asked with a sigh, finally letting my eyes come back to the man beside me.

"It has been almost twenty years since then. Why apologize after all this time?"

Jake looked down and ran his fingers through his hair before he stood up and started to pace, wringing his hands as he did so.

"I wanted to do it a long time ago, but I admit it, I was a coward and every time I picked up the phone I would lose my courage.", he eventually said, stopping in front of me and looking at me with shining eyes.

"But some things have happened in the last year that had forced me to confront all of my mistakes; all the lies that I have told, all the secrets that I have kept. And I refuse to be a coward anymore. Honestly, I am tired of running and hiding. I've been doing it my whole life, George, and I have finally decided that I am done."

I looked at him more closely, frowning at his choice of words, as my heart started to beat faster.

"What made you change your mind?", I asked him and Jake looked up at the question, a sad smile spreading over his gorgeous face at the realization that we still understood each other without the need to say some things out loud before he said,

"I tried to kill myself."