A/N you said you didn't want Jordan to freak? Ooops. Sorry.
He fought for something to say, wracking his brain for something, anything. "I -" He started and quickly cut that off, "You-" He tried again, and still came up with nothing. "I just want to see you happy." He finally spat out truthfully. He all but winced as she removed the arm that had been flung across him.
"With you?" She was angry, beyond angry, plain upset.
"With me, Woody, Nigel Bug, a great dane for all I care, just so long as you're happy." She glared at him for a minute before shifting her gaze down to the floor. They started walking down to the small restaurant on the ground floor of the hotel.
"How the hell can you do this to me?" She asked, and he frowned. That was exactly why he was avoiding it. He looked at her softly, he didn't want to add to her complications.
"I didn't want ti to be this way. I didn't come chasing after you to be the rebound man, I came here because I don't want to see you piss your life away." They sat down at one of the small tables and ordered two coffees.
"You flew out here just because you think I made a mistake?"
"A big mistake. Jordan, just stop running." His gaze was firm, but soft.
"Right, this coming from a man who's hidden the fact that he's wanted me for how many years?" He stared down into his coffee which had just arrived and took his time adding cream and sugar into it, trying to avoid the question. But he felt her gaze on him, boring into him, waiting for the answer.
"Ten." The word was quiet, barely spoken. She took a moment to process that.
"Ten." She repeated. "You were still married ten years ago!" She pointed out and he shrugged, ordering toast and bacon.
"Maggie and I were over before we began. I wouldn't be surprised if she had someone on the side during our honeymoon, we loved each other, but we never-" He trailed off, trying to explain his relationship with his ex wife. They had loved each other, but they were just better off apart. She nodded at him, surprisingly, and he took a swig of coffee, trying to formulate the rest of a thought.
"Why?" She asked him.
"Why what?" He knew the question, he knew what she was asking, he just didn't want to answer it.
"Why didn't you tell me? How can you say I'm screwing my life up by leaving everything when I can say you've screwed your life up by not telling me?" He stared contemplatively into the light brown liquid.
"I believe this is a case of do as I say, not as I do." She glared at him. "Ok, you're right." He conceded. "I'm in no place to tell you that you're ruining your life, but it doesn't mean that I won't." He picked up a piece of bacon and chewed it, trying to stall the conversation as long as possible.
"You still haven't answered why." She said and he stared at his plate.
"Because it wouldn't work." He said getting up and walking out, stopping only long enough to tell the waitress to charge the uneaten meal to his room.