Shattered

•Four•

The jogging trail separated the beach from the park and shops with several strategically placed benches for people watching.  I stopped at the edge of the path overlooking the lake and sat on my haunches, catching my breath.  I needed to take it easier on the way back.  I had pushed myself too hard and did too much too soon.  I stood and leaned against a tree, looking over the water.  It sparkled with the sun and it looked like it'd be refreshing to splash around in.

I couldn't stay still for too long.  My body definitely wanted to keep moving.  I took it easy, leisurely jogging around the lake and back, enjoying every second.  I felt great.  I felt like I had gotten a major piece of myself back somehow.

The sun rose higher and people began to flock to the beach.  Restaurants prepared for the brunch crowd and I felt my stomach growl.  Maybe Jack would feel like some breakfast by the time I got back.  Maybe he'd even like to share a shower with me.

As I began to head back home, I found myself wondering if Jack was a runner as well.  He was tall and lean.  He'd never done it with my knowing, but maybe we ran together in the past. 

By the time I returned home, loose strands of hair were sticking to my forehead and cheeks.  I could feel my tank sticking to my back and I loved it.  I punched in the garage code and stretched again as the door rose.

Stepping into the kitchen, I opened the refrigerator in search for bottled water.  Finding one, I unscrewed the cap and turned around, letting the fridge door close on it's own.  As I took my first drink of water, Jack startled me, sitting on the steps of the staircase, car keys in hand, looking none too pleased.  I nearly choked on my water.

"Jesus, Jack!" I coughed and laughed, screwing the cap back onto the bottle.

"Where did you go?"  He stood, crossing his arms.

Still catching my breath, I pressed the ice cold bottle to my forehead to cool down.  "I left a note," I smiled, picking it up off the counter.

"Oh a note.  How generous, Christine."  I didn't know how to react to his blatant sarcasm.

"I'm sorry, Jack.  Do you run too?"

"No," he scoffed.  "No, I don't run.  You're the runner.  Always running.  Can you do me a favor?  Can you just imagine you nearly lost me forever and then woke up and I wasn't by your side anymore?  Can you possibly imagine how terrifying that is?"

"I didn't want to wake you!  You were sleeping so soundly.  Jack, I'm sorry."  I felt bad and I could tell he was genuinely hurt by my actions, or lack thereof. 

"You don't fucking get it.  You shouldn't be out running around without me.  It's too dangerous, Christine!  Until your memories come back, I don't want you out there alone!"

"Jack, I can't wait around for you in order to move on.  You can't be expected to hold my hand like a child for the rest of my life.  My memory may never come back!"  I remained as calm as possible.

Jack's jaw tensed and he chucked the car keys toward the counter, knocking over the roll of paper towels by the sink.

"Go take a shower.  You stink."

His childish manner almost made me laugh but I didn't dare.  I took my bottled water and slinked past him, quickly climbing the stairs.

I closed the bathroom door behind me and locked it.  I heard Jack in the kitchen.  Pots and pans were clattering loudly.  Cabinet doors being slammed.  I felt sick.  Maybe it was dumb of me to leave the house alone so soon.  I should have at least waited until he was awake so he didn't worry.

After a quick shower, I got dressed and made my way back downstairs, my hair only towel dried.  Jack stood over the stove with a small dish towel draped over his shoulder.  Only then did I notice the smell of the omelets he was making.  He had his cell phone pressed to his ear.

"No, she doesn't.  I promise you.  I know.  Don't worry, I'll make sure she doesn't.  You've got to stop calling me though."  He ended the call and stuck the phone into his back pocket.  I waited a little bit before entering the kitchen.

"Need any help?" I tested the waters, unsure if I should just stay out of his way or ease any stress by offering assistance.

Jack's head whipped around and he gave me a little smile.  "That was quick.  I was going to bring this up to you."  I leaned back against the counter as he transferred  the omelet to a plate.  "Go ahead and sit."

I walked around the counter to the breakfast nook and slid onto the wooden bench.  In the center of the table was a large vase of bright pink peonies.  Jack placed the plate in front of me with a fork and returned to the kitchen to get a plate for himself.

"Where did these come from?" I asked him, motioning towards the flowers.

He slid in across from me, smiling.  "Picked them out in the backyard for you."

I leaned in, smelling them.  "They're gorgeous, Jack.  Thank you."

I was curious as to who he was on the phone with but it didn't feel right to pry.  I waited to see if he'd bring it up.  I couldn't imagine who else the 'she' he mentioned could be.

By the time we had finished eating and cleared the dishes, curiosity got the better of me.  I dried off the last plate and handed it to him to be put away.

"Who were you on the phone with earlier?"

Jack took his time answering, as if he had to think about my question.  He put the plate away, closed the cabinet and turned to me with his brows furrowed.

"When?"

"Just as I came down.  You told whoever it that they needed to stop calling you."  I wondered if he was being bothered by the local newspaper again.  When I first came back home, we had a lot of offers for our story.  It took about a week before the constant phone calls died down.

"I don't remember a call?"  He leaned against the counter with me, thinking.  He pulled his phone out and looked back at the recent calls received.  "Oh, Trish.  Just endless nagging.  She calls and offers unsolicited advice.  Nothing to worry your pretty head over."

He moved an arm behind me and playfully tugged on the ends of my damp hair.  His answer didn't satisfy me but I didn't want to press him. 

"I'm sorry for snapping at you, Chris."  He moved until he stood in front of me and took my hands.  He kissed the knuckles of my right hand.  "Forgive me?"

"Of course."

"If there's somewhere you need to be or want to go, I want to go with you.  If I'm at work, just call Trish.  You know she'd love it."

My phone was destroyed in the car accident; burnt to a crisp after the car exploded.  Jack bought me a new phone but I only had two numbers programmed into it so far: his and Trish's.

"What about Grace?"

Jack pursed his lips and sighed.  "I know Grace is your best friend, or you think she is, but you're going to have to trust me on this: she's not a very nice person.  You guys didn't get along much before your accident."

Why was he just now telling me this?  There weren't any signs of awkwardness at the anniversary party when Grace spoke to me.

"Why not?"

Jack shrugged.  "She was jealous of you.  Of us.  She's not someone who can hold onto a man.  She flits around from guy to guy and you've got the sure thing here, with me."  Jack shared a sly smile, placed a hand on the countertop behind me, leaned in and kissed the top of my head.

He lowered his lips to my cheek and kissed.  As he slowly pulled away, he hovered and I turned my face to his, my heartbeat thumping harder due to our proximity.  I moved and touched my lips to his, kissing him softly at first, then with more passion.  His hands moved to my neck, cupping my jaw in place.  He groaned with pleasure and pressed himself against me.

I was glad to have a sure thing with Jack.  But something felt off.  I couldn't just take his word on Grace.  She was wonderful at the party, and sure, maybe there was a hint of jealousy detected, but that was only natural.  I decided I'd figure out a way to get ahold of her sometime this week.