1928 ✓

22 - offence

"Didn't you lie to me as well?" Esmé asked, lifting her brows. Jack was the last person she needed to interrogate her. "I found out about you being part of the Camden Boys through a newspaper article after our engagement. Even after that you still tried to talk yourself out of it."

"But we work for the Bensons," He rose his voice, his body tensing up, his hands clenched into tight fists. "I only did what your family told me to do! I still do!"

Esmé rolled her eyes, noticing his knuckles turning white progressively, "Stupid of you to assume this is what I want, Jack. I'm not fond of what my family does."

"But why do I keep losing what is precious to me?" He whispered defeatedly.

Jack knitted his brows, taken aback. He inspected her with a confused expression. His voice was filled with desperation when he muttered, "I love you, Esmé. I have loved you for a very long time. How can you throw me aside for someone like Dean?"

His tone dripped misery, his shoulders tense yet down in loss.

Esmé exhaled slowly, thinking of a way to get this over with quickly. She reached for the bottle of wine he had brought, staring at it, swirling its liquid before speaking up, "I don't have the strength to discuss this any longer. Let's stop here-"

Esmé quirked her brow, glancing back at him. His gaze was fixed to the bottle, his teeth gritted, his fists trembled. He looked as if he was about lunge for her.

"Jack?" She asked, huffing, "Are you ok?"

The veins on his temples popped blue, "At least, stop acting like you care," He spat. There was nothing left from the gentle and calm Jack Esmé had first met. He got replaced by someone with vicious eyes; his grey orbs held thunders. His knuckles turned white, the fire inside him capable of burning down everything around him.

"Whatever," She huffed, holding the cold bottle against her cheek that heated up from dammed up anxiety, "There's no need for us to continue this," She made a dismissive gesture, "-whatever this is. Everything's all over the place."

"Esmé," Jack stammered, "I can't believe this is happening to me after winning you over finally-" but he stopped when she swallowed visibly, an annoyed groan escaping her. The more he continued to talk, the more her face fell.

"Let's stop this," Esmé repeated. He pursed his lips in a thin line. He gave up. "I don't want to hurt you, Jack. We can part peacefully. You knew all along that I never had feelings for you. Please don't force this on me."

His facial muscles relented, leaning back in his chair. He threw his head into his neck, snickering deeply. A bitter look surfaced in his eyes when he gazed back at her. Esmé watched him get up from his seat. He hid his hands deep in his pockets.

"Good then." He mumbled, peering at his feet, "I thought we'd enjoy the wine together, but take it as a farewell gift, and drink it thinking of me for one last time."

Esmé closed her eyes, nodding, a false smile apparent on her lips.

Jack was apathetic when he turned towards the exit of the dining hall. He tarried frozen on his spot for a few more moments, Esmé watching his back. His chest heaved up and down, and she recognised from his stance that he fought the urge to snap at her.

Jack didn't want to let it go this easily, but he had no other choice. He whispered in a hoarse, tortured tone before he left, "If you happen to change your mind and decide to come to me, I'm willing to forget and live happily with you. If not, I'm sorry - for everything."

~~~

"Do you want some?"

Esmé rested her chin on the rail of the balcony, gazing into the starry night that spread over the horizon. After Jack had left and the sun had set, she had retreated into her room, hiding from everyone in the house for as long as she could. Leslie had come up, reminding her to not skip dinner, but other than that Esmé got the space she needed.