6
1
Back home.
I took a long, hot shower, then collapsed onto my bed, trying to make sense of everything. The extra money in my account was making my head spin.
When Jack and I broke up, he acted like I owed him something. I used to fantasize about somehow making him pay, getting one over on him.
Well, now I’ve got the money. But somehow, it didn’t feel as good as I thought it would.
What Jack was doing didn’t feel like some desperate act of love. It felt more like he was trying to set me up, like a silent assassin.
I didn’t tell Sarah about the money or anything else–she’d chew me out for sure. So, I buried myself in work to keep my mind off it.
At mealtime, I ordered takeout for Jack, pretended I cooked it myself, and brought it to the hospital.
Jack ate it up with enthusiasm and, for once, kept his mouth shut. He even complimented my “cooking,” saying it was great.
One evening, while he was eating, I was busy working on a project. Suddenly, I heard a camera click. I looked up, frowning.
10:24 AM
<
One evening, while he was eating, I was busy working on a project. Suddenly, I heard a camera click. I looked up, frowning.
“Don’t take pictures of me.”
Jack, of course, ignored me, looking smug as he admired his phone screen.
“I’m changing my wallpaper. The nurse thinks I’m single and keeps trying to set me up with her niece.”
I bit my lip, stealing a glance at his sharp profile.
I wasn’t stupid. I knew what Jack was doing. He was angling for a reunion, and I was starting to think maybe I should just let him have it–give him a way back into my life. But I needed to discuss it with Sarah first.
But then, Jack slapped me with a reality check. And it hurt.
A few days later, I arrived at the hospital about thirty minutes early to bring him dinner. As I reached the door to his room, I stopped dead in my tracks.
There was Jack, hurriedly stripping off his suit jacket and slipping into his hospital gown. Standing next to him was a sophisticated woman, with soft, wavy hair and a form–fitting business suit that emphasized her figure.
She moved with an ease that suggested they were familiar–too familiar. She was helping him with his tie, her hands brushing against his neck. “Slow down, no need to rush,” she said softly.
The way they stood together, the comfortable closeness… it was clear they were more than casual acquaintances.
Jack didn’t even seem to notice the intimacy of it all, letting her touch him like it was completely natural.
I let out a bitter laugh, turned on my heel, and walked away.
I had been played. Twice.
If I ever let Jack back into my life again, I’d be a fool.