They met by her car five minutes later and sat in awkward silence on the drive towards Jacob's house. Unable to stand it any longer, Connie cleared her throat and glanced sideways at the man beside her. "You go in and get your suit and then you can get changed at mine while I pick something."
"I don't know, Con. Us getting dressed in the same building hasn't gone very well in the past, has it?" Jacob had a teasing edge to his voice that made Connie smile. This was the Jacob she recognised and knew how to deal with.
"I thought it usually went quite well, actually, but I do agree that it's never gone in our favour when we're in a rush."
Jacob smiled as they pulled up outside his place. "Quite well? I only get a 'quite well'? I'll leave you here to consider that statement and how much quite well might hurt my delicate ego."
"You have a lot of things, Jacob, but a delicate ego is not one of them." Connie replied smartly, smiling to herself as she watched Jacob saunter towards the house. She knew he was putting on an act, she knew he was hurting, but quiet Jacob made her want to make everything right in the world for him, and she wasn't used to feeling that way.
He returned five minutes later, having already had everything in one place during his time of deliberation earlier in the day.
"You know..." He sat uncomfortably next to her, his suit folded over in the carrier on his knee. "Your car is quite ridiculously unpractical."
She glanced over at him as she indicated, before returning to look directly ahead at the road.
"It was practical."
"Hm?" He looked sideways again, to see her jaw tense noticeably.
"Grace was in America, no significant other..."
"Con, I'm sorry, I..."
"Don't be. It's fine." She felt his hand rest on her knee and she couldn't help but feel more relaxed, no matter how much she told herself that they couldn't do this. They drove the way to her house in silence, both of them remembering the countless times they had done this journey before, under circumstances so far from the ones they were currently subjected to.
"Right." She stopped the car, and they sat a little awkwardly before she opened the door and went to the house. "I'll go and change, you can, um..." She paused, uncertain of where exactly she was going to suggest. "Oh, just come upstairs. But behave."
He gave a low nod in response, before following her into the house. It smelled of her, and he looked around him to see all of the little quirks which he had missed so much: the slight tilt of the painting in the hallway because Grace had once knocked the hook it hung on and she had never had the time to fix it, the candles which only he would ever light, the coffee table in the living room, covered with its usual spread of paperwork and Grace's magazines. His thoughts were interrupted by a gentle cough, and he turned around to see her standing on the stairs, a smile toying at her features.