A Million Memories

Chapter 2

Not usually a drinker, John was on his third glass of whiskey when he heard a knock on the door. Victor, distraught over John leaving town with his grandson, took Brady for the night, which left John free to drown his sorrows, and probably pay for it the following morning with a massive headache. He wasn't quite drunk, but he was definitely on his way. John didn't drink often. It lowered his inhibitions, and for John, control at all times was essential. He sat on his couch, swirling the amber liquid in his glass, and seriously considered ignoring the knock altogether, but it sounded again, and he felt obligated to answer it.

    Pulling the loft door open, he found himself face to face with the reason for his sudden drinking spree. Her hair was curling around her face in that sexy way it did when it was wet. He wanted to grab it, grab her, pull her forward, and kiss her...all he could manage to do was whisper, "Hi."

    "Hi," Marlena whispered back, while staring at him, clutching Brady's teddy bear like a lifeline to her sanity. It was obvious to John that she'd been crying, probably sobbing, from the looks of her. Her eyes were red-rimmed, swollen, and still glassy, as she gazed at him without speaking. John looked her over, and realized she was still dressed like she was earlier, when he ran into her at Chez Vous. The amethyst earrings were shining through the curls in her hair, and her purple dress was peeking from under the hem of her black coat. 

    She finally held up the teddy bear, and said lamely, "I was afraid Brady couldn't sleep without this guy...You left him...over at the pub."

    "Well, I'm always leaving something behind..." John said with a slight drawl to his words. Those words meaning so much more to both of them, then just a lost, and forgotten teddy bear.

    Marlena noticed that John seemed slightly intoxicated. "John, have you been drinking?"

    John didn't answer her as he stared at her, his glances occasionally moving over her body or to her lips as she spoke. She continued, "Well...I don't know why I thought I needed an excuse...I wish I could just stand here, and look at you, and tell you...and tell you..." She couldn't continue as their eyes locked for a moment, and her voice trailed off.

    "Where's Roman?" John asked her abruptly, changing the subject, still blocking the loft door. His barely reigned in frustration was threatening to make him do something they would both regret, and bringing up Roman is a 'safe' subject. Bringing up Roman allowed them both to remember that they had very clear boundaries that they could not cross. Boundaries that his mind was crossing in every sexy scenario it could muster at that moment.

    Marlena studied him, and paused for a moment before she answered him, "Roman had a lead on the man who shot Abe."

    "That's great, that's great...he'll get him..." John's voice trailed off, and the awkward silence that followed was deafening. He needed another drink, maybe a double this time.

    Marlena finally said, "That isn't why I came by...I need to know the reason why you're leaving town—"

    John longingly looked from the door where they were standing, toward the counter for his drink. He had a feeling he was going to need it, and walked over to grab it, swallowing it down quickly, finally looking back over his shoulder at the sound of the door closing, only to realize that Marlena had followed him into the loft. He turned back to stare into his empty glass for a moment, "I explained all that at the pub."

    "The official reason, yes, I know, but not the real—"

    "—you know the real reason, Doc," John replied as he walked around the counter, and searched the cabinet for the bottle of whiskey he had obviously put away too soon. He had a very strong feeling that he was going to need another glass before this conversation was over. John poured his fourth shot, gulped it down quickly, and glanced back in Marlena's direction. He was instantly struck by a desire so strong that he almost reached for her...again. The only thing preventing him was the kitchen counter between them. Instead he stared into her eyes for a moment, reading something there that made him even more nervous...desperation. If he was alone in his feelings, he could fight them. If Marlena was on the verge of losing control, he knew nothing would stop him. He said very quietly, "You have to leave, Doc. Now. We shouldn't even be having this conversation." He paused for a moment, staring at her softly parted lips, and said abruptly, "Let yourself out." He turned, and climbed the stairs, leaving Marlena alone.

    Marlena watched him go, and her heart broke a little more. "I can't go," she said aloud to herself. "Oh, G-d, I wish, I had the wisdom that I have with my patients. You know, I-I can just tell them that they need to take responsibility for their lives, and they have to gain control, and...control is very important, you know..." she finished as her voice trailed off, unsure of what she was trying to convince herself of. She spun towards the stairs where John exited, staring up them, gasping for air, as she whispered, "It's just that I get over here...and I can't control these feelings that I have for you." Continuing to look up the stairs, she whispered, "I can't even leave, and I know I should." In that moment, Marlena made a decision that would change her life, forever...she unbuttoned her coat, laid it gently on the arm of the sofa, and staring up the rounded staircase, she followed the path that John had taken.

    John ran his fingers through his hair roughly as he walked into his bedroom. Ripping his shirt over his head, and kicking off his shoes, he waited to hear the sound of the loft door closing. He was frustrated, angry, and his heart was breaking into a million, tiny, little, shards. John rummaged through his dresser drawer looking for a pair of sweatpants, and unbuttoned his jeans, still listening for the sound of the loft door closing. He felt as if he couldn't breath, his chest was so tight with pent up emotion.  This pain he felt was going to settle in, and stay. Sitting on the edge of his bed he removed his socks, but still the sound of the door closing on his life with Marlena never came.

    After Mexico the year prior, when he left with Isabella and Marlena left with Roman...the pain was what he left with. It had stayed with him for months, maybe it never left. Every time he saw her in passing, every time they spoke, it came back fresh, and new. He would struggle to push it back, and put a smile on his face. He'd forced himself to engage in polite conversation, and idle chit chat, just to keep Marlena in his life, because, as much as seeing her hurt...not seeing her was never an option.

    John rolled his head from side to side, stood up from the bed, and began his pacing again. "Did she leave?" He started talking to himself as a distraction, "I have to calm down. She'll leave...she will, but until she does, I have to stay away from her. Stay upstairs. Don't check to see if she's—"

    As soon as she appeared in the doorway to his bedroom, John felt her, even with his back to her, he felt her. Turning to face her, he realized that she was a mess. She'd been crying, her hair was in disarray, and she was looking at him as if she'd just lost her best friend. Maybe she had. But what really struck him was the honesty in her eyes. After weeks of denial and refusal to discuss what was happening between them, John finally saw her heart. She loved him.