Jake Gyllenhaal All Too Well Novels & Stories

The silences in between. I should have known. The gala was important, sure. Big donors. Big press. Big everything. Jake thrives in that world in tuxedos and champagne flutes and smiles that don’t reach the eyes. I used to think he came alive in those rooms. Now I wonder if that’s just who he really is, and this me, this life with me is the act just like he had said and I was the one trying to make it what it will never be. He said, “I’ll be there, Lila. First flight. I swear.”

Definitely not the next James Bond, that is for sure… The crazy thing is, Jake should be able to sense there is someone there, unless he is seriously distracted, which in all fairness, listening to what was going on he could be, but even so, he is a Beta, I would be disappointed if he didn’t know we were here! Gabe slowly goes to raise himself up to look over the fence again, only to be met by Jake’s eyes meeting his gaze. Somewhere between a frown and a pout on his face as he looked Gabe dead in the eye. Making me laugh. “Woah! What the fuck J!” Gabe jumps back, nearly falling over. “Spying on me Gabe?” Jake asks.

Jack entered, and the door thudded closed the way expensive doors do. “You wanted to see me, ma’am?” Gale didn’t turn. She muted the anchor mid-syllable and froze the frame—yellow tape, white suits, a cul-de-sac pretending nothing had happened. “Yes. Sit down.” Jack took the leather lounge, which did not creak. He kept both feet flat, hands open on his knees, thumb ring tapping once against bone. “Have you seen the news?” Gale asked. “Caught some of it this morning,” he said, which was true enough.