A two part companion piece to i'm so chill but you make me jealous
He had genuinely good instincts. It extended well beyond the field and typically, he trusted those instincts implicitly.
He knew something was wrong. In the almost year they'd been together, Taylor was open about her past relationships, as was he, so it wasn't like they never spoke about exes; it just wasn't a topic that was on the forefront. Their time together was precious and to squander speaking about that particular subject at length seemed counterproductive.
But from what they had discussed, especially at the very initial stages of their relationship, the turning of tides, of Joe's seemingly abrupt shift in what he wanted, had thrown her for a loop to the point where it damaged her confidence pretty badly. She told him right out, in no uncertain terms that she wasn't looking for someone to have a fling with and be tossed away, not this time. If he wanted to get to know her, that was fine, but she was in a fragile place and he would have to understand.
Bit by bit, he'd done whatever was in his power to build her back up. It wasn't so much intended to win her over. The more they talked, the more he liked her and he wanted her to see what a beautiful person she was, inside and out, how much she deserved somebody who recognized that they were lucky to be with her.
He recognized that it wasn't easy to let down her walls and he had to be patient. She always extended that same patience to him. The level of mutual respect they had for each other set them up to go the long haul and he thanked God daily, just for that.
Even though things were good, in spite of braving distance and how everything was a little crazy with scheduling, that particular night before she left for London, he sensed she was tightly wound, pacing the floors like a caged tiger. They ate out of the Thai food containers, but she would take a bite and then get up to fix something on the countertop or find a pressing task she just had to accomplish.
"Hey, hey..." He reached out from the sofa to touch her hand, "you okay? You seem kind of... agitated."
"I'm fine. Sorry." Taylor sank down onto the cushion next to him. "I just realized I have a lot to do, so it's hard to relax."
"No, I get it. It's okay."
He hesitated, treading lightly. "So, how are you feeling about London? In general."
"Going there on the tour? It's fine."
He picked up that she was trying her best to sound noncommittal. It was falling flat; he saw something in her eyes that bothered him.
"It's my job," she shrugged. "Not a big deal...I'm good now. It was a long time ago."
She had never lied to him before, not once. The idea made the food turn in his stomach.
Don't push, he told himself. She'll talk about it on her terms.
Taylor rested her head on his shoulder. "I don't think we should be wasting time, discussing shit that doesn't matter. We hardly get to see each other as it is." She pressed a kiss to the cap, "know what I mean?"
He'd dropped it, mostly because she was right; their time together was extremely important to both of them.
When she had left, he still felt mildly uneasy, as though there was something unresolved. He was worried about her.
He tried reassuring himself that she knew how to cope with those kind of feelings and if she wanted to discuss it, she'd reach out.
The entire day was an attempt to relax. He played with the dogs, went to the gym, ate lunch, had a few meetings. He kept an eye on the time so that he was around to call her when she landed, giving her the space to get settled at the hotel first. When she didn't answer, he was slightly anxious, a feeling he couldn't explain and he chastised himself for overreacting when more than likely, she was napping. So, he texted instead, letting her know he'd be around later and that he loved her.
