I'm shaking now, as I pace the room. I can't look at him, because when I do, I feel things. Things I can't explain, but they're there, and they're real. Even if nothing he's told me is true.
“Do you realize my head is already scrambled enough, and I don't know what's real or what's not?” I shout. “Is this all some fucking game to you, Jack? And who are you? Really. Who are you to me?”
“Listen, let's go downstairs, sit down at the table and talk.”
I try not to let my nerves shine through. I'm tired. Exhausted, even. My entire body is shaking, and I can't tell if I'm hurt, angry, scared – or all the above. Tears well up in my eyes before I have a chance to stop them. I angrily scrub them away as they roll down my cheeks.
“Dammit,” I say, turning away from Jack so he can't see that I'm crying.
I wipe at my eyes and feel so incredibly helpless – a feeling that's foreign to me. I may not know everything about my life right now, but I do know I'm not the helpless type. On a deep, primal level, I know that I'm strong and independent. But, this shit is too much even for me. I'm in way over my head. I’m overwhelmed – and I feel like I'm only getting pulled in deeper.
Even though I try to hide the tears, Jack sees them. He's by my side in an instant, his arms around me. I try to push him away, but he holds me fast and I eventually let myself lean into him because, despite the fact that he lied, he still somehow feels so safe and comfortable. I can't understand it, let alone explain it. He's shown me nothing but kindness since I woke up at the hospital though, and frankly, he's the only person who seems to know who I am, aside from maybe Daisy at the cafe.
His big arms hold me tight and his beard is ruffling up my hair. I can't explain it, but right there, in that moment, it feels like home. As if I've been looking for this for years and finally found it. Then I remember the lies again and push him away. This time, he takes a couple of steps back, giving me some space.
“No, tell me who you are first,” I say. “And why you're lying about it. Tell me, Jack. Or else I'm calling a cab and getting the hell out of here, because quite honestly, I'm scared. I don't know who you are or what we are to each other, and it scares the shit out of me.”
“You have no reason to be afraid of me,” he says. His eyes look so sincere, and I find myself wanting to believe him. “We may not be married, Sydney, that's a lie I told the hospital just so I could be there with you. To help make decisions regarding your care. If I told them who I really am, well, they'd have told me to get lost and I couldn't bear leaving you there unprotected.”
“So, we are together?” I ask. “Together and just aren't married?”
He cringes at those words as I speak them, and I realize even that's not the case.
“No, not anymore at least,” he says. “We used to be. A long time ago.”
“You're an ex then?”
“Yes,” he says then quickly adds, “But I've never stopped loving you, Sydney. And we didn't end because we weren't good for each other. We ended because –”
He stops talking, and the lines deepen in his face. Reaching out, without thinking about it, I stroke his cheek gently. He leans into the touch and a soft smile parts his lips. I can see the torment in his eyes and my heart goes out to him. I find that I want him to tell me – and not just to satisfy my own curiosity-- but because I can see that he's been carrying a heavy burden for a very long time and I find that I want to help ease it from his shoulders a bit if I can.
“Why did we end things, Jack?” I ask.
“Because we were stupid kids,” he says. “I joined the Marines, you went off to college, and we grew apart. But I've always loved you, Sydney. That's not a lie, nor has it changed in all these years.”
My heart swells because I see it in his eyes. He does love me, and somewhere deep inside, I feel like maybe I might have loved him too. A long time ago. It's there though.
“Is that all of it?” I ask. “The entire truth, I mean?”
“Yes,” he says.
I look him in the eye and find that I believe him. Even more than that, I find that I'm no longer mad or scared. I have nowhere else to go, no one else to trust, but something tells me that I need not fear this man; that I can trust him. Sure, he lied, but his reasons made sense. I fall back into his arms, and he seems surprised. He hesitates before wrapping them around me, holding me close. I melt against him, relishing the feel of his arms around me. He may not be who he says he is, but that doesn't change the fact that I feel like I know him. That he's somehow, intimately intertwined in my life.
“Thank you, Jack,” I whisper. “Thank you for taking care of me.”
“Of course, Syd,” he whispers back. “Anything for you. Always.”
CHAPTER TEN
JACK
Having her in my arms and feeling her body pressed to mine again feels like heaven. Years of waiting for her to find me, hoping she'd forgive me, and here we are. Except, she hasn't forgiven me for my deepest sins, because she isn't even aware of them. Not yet, anyway.
Eventually her memory will return, and with it, the reason we parted ways so long ago. The real reasons. She will remember, and when she does, she will hate me. It would be best if I went on the offensive and told her, of course, but here she is, in my arms. She's soft and fragile and afraid, and the last thing I want to do is cause her more pain.
She understood the first lie, about being her husband. Hopefully, she forgives the second lie – the one about how we truly ended things.
She turns her face to look up at me, a smile gracing those full, beautiful, soft lips. God, she may be older than I remember, but she's still the prettiest woman I've ever seen. Her skin is still paler than normal, but some of her color is coming back. Freckles dot her nose and cheeks, and her green eyes shine like emeralds. Her auburn hair brings out the color even more.
She raises herself up on her tip-toes and presses her lips to mine, and for a moment, I can't breathe. All I can think about is the fact that her lips are touching mine. She's kissing me. My tongue pushes past her sweet lips and into her mouth. She shudders, and a small gasp escapes her throat as we kiss. My heart thunders in my chest. It has been so long since I've been with a woman. Too long.
The blood rushes to my lower extremities, and I grow hard in my jeans. My cock is straining painfully against the fabric . It's automatic, reflexive, and I have no control over any of it. She presses herself into me and I moan as my cock grinds against her belly. I quickly pull away from her and run a hand through my hair, clearing my throat at the same time.
“Sydney, you're hurt,” I say. “We should probably take it easy.”
I'm mainly saying that for my own benefit. After a head injury and whatever else she endured, the last thing she needs is me pushing myself on her. She stares up into my eyes, and damn, it's fucking hard to resist her. I want to pick her up and throw her on the bed. I want to ravage her the way I did all those years ago. We were both grown now, more experienced. The sex was great back then, but now, I bet it will be fucking amazing. Mind blowing.
No, she's hurt, I tell myself. We can't do this. My erection throbs, urging me to throw caution to the wind and just go for it, to fuck her all night long. The look on her face doesn't help me either. Her lips are parted, glistening with our saliva, and there is a sultry look in her eyes.