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She’s surprised – but pleased – when Jack apologises to her. No adult has ever said sorry to her before. It’s a good apology too. Heartfelt, meaningful, and full of understanding as to why Kyra might have wanted to leave, full of remorse for having snapped at her to stay.
“And I’m glad you didn’t leave in the end, that you stayed to help us out. We definitely couldn’t have done it without you.”
So true – if there’s anything today has taught her it’s that Jack and Tom really are terrible with computers.
She’s glad she stayed too. She really is. At least it’s given her something to do that isn’t worrying.
She crosses to the fridge to grab a drink, eyes falling on a photo of her and Alex in Valletta that is taped to the front. At some point someone, Tom she guesses, had thought to send prints to Jack. Most likely to annoy her, she thinks, especially as she’d specifically told him to delete it. But it’s Tom and so of course he’d ignored her and now there it is, a relic of their holiday together, a great big sign in front of her reminding her of what she’s lost. She hates that photo now. Wants to pull it down and rip it up.
But at the same time… At the same time she also wishes that she had a nice photo of Alex – just for her.
The magnet pinning the photo to the fridge spells out ‘happiness’ in stark, black and white letters. Fuck that.
Kyra fills her glass and then the one that Jack has slid across the kitchen island to her, trying to ignore the look she’s getting. She doesn’t like Jack’s smile – far too understanding, far too knowing. But she does ask Jack the question that’s been on her mind since she and Tom saw Alex at that villa with Yassen. What if he has really gone, what if he’s part of Scorpia now, training to be a killer, and she’s lost him forever?
And then comes a question in return, one she’s been dreading, and Jack’s words hang in the air between them, threatening to overwhelm her and she almost can’t breathe, much less respond.
“You love him, don’t you?”
Kyra has always, always been a private person, has always been good at hiding her emotions, and the idea that someone can read her so clearly is, quite frankly, terrifying.
And so she doesn’t answer Jack’s question, partly because she can’t bring herself to say the words, but mostly because she knows that Jack doesn’t really need an answer. They both know she loves Alex. It doesn’t need to be said.
She wants to push Jack away, go back to being on her own to process what’s going on and her feelings on the matter, but she does eventually lean into Jack’s embrace because, just for a moment, she wants to feel safe. To feel loved too.
Eventually she pulls back, embarrassed. “Don’t tell him, okay?”
Jack gives her a sad smile, stroking her arm comfortingly. “I promise.”