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Summary
Jude pressed the doorbell a third time. Still no answer.
Maybe he is out?
Jude let out a deep sigh. Maybe he should have called first, or at least texted, but then it wouldn’t be a surprise. His grip tightened around his bag strap, his earlier excitement dimming as he stood there, feeling like a complete idiot.
If he wanted to, he would have come to you.
A small voice in the back of his mind whispered. Lately, it felt as if Jude was the only one making a real effort, planning their meet-ups and working around their schedules, flying back and forth between Madrid and Manchester, while Erling was just… here.
Maybe this was a mistake.
He could turn around and leave, he still had time, and no one would know he was ever here.
Have some dignity.
Another voice mocked him, but Jude was past that point. Dignity went flying out the window when he spread his legs for Erling two years ago. He was hooked from that very first night, and there was no way out.