John and Marlena (Finally) Get a Q!

Chapter 62 - There's No Place Like Home

John yawned as he stepped into the loft. It was still early. The Salem sky had greeted him with a blazing crimson sunrise as he stepped off the hired jet, the birds working up to a dawn warble. The streets had been near to silent as the weary cabbie had driven him back to the building he called home. He had intended to have a shower before throwing a few clean clothes into another bag and heading over to the pub. But he hadn't been counting on what he was now seeing as he surveyed the loft.

The living room was full of furniture, especially baby furniture and what looked like boxes of kit-set furniture that were yet to be assembled. Kristen's boxes of belongings were strewn from one end of the room to the other and John dreaded to think what he might find upstairs. He took a deep breath, trying to restrain himself from throwing something across the room. This was all he needed.

His patience was worn thin by the events of the last week, and he just prayed Kristen was not here right now. Her presence might well be enough to goad him into something he might regret doing. He rubbed at the beard which irritated his chin and considered the room. Making a decision, he picked up the phone and dialed. It was early yet he had no time to take care of this but now.

A sleepy female voice answered the phone. It was Nicole, his new assistant, a young but very efficient Canadian woman. He paid her more than enough to warrant waking her at this hour and John wasted no time in outlining what he needed her to do. It was simple enough. Have all Kristen's belongings removed by the end of the day and have the locks changed. Nicole asked no questions, only promised that his orders would be followed to the letter. John hoped so. He'd had it with incompetence. Putting down the phone, he picked up his bag and climbed the small staircase. He entered his room to find, to his profound relief that Kristen wasn't there. With thin lips, he dropped his bag on the floor and angrily pulled open the door to the bathroom.

He shed his clothes quickly and climbed into a scalding shower, letting the water wash away some of the tension and pain he felt. He tried not to think of Marlena, but she was always there, a potent presence in his life, possessing his heart, so that sometimes he could think of nothing else.

And now that he couldn't have her, now that someone else had her, it seemed a thousand times worse. John couldn't work out which of them he was angrier at. As the water washed through his coarse hair and down his face, he realized it was at himself. He had screwed up so badly, he had hurt her so badly and so many times, he just didn't deserve her anymore.

He quickly and roughly scrubbed his head with shampoo and rinsed himself before he turned off the shower and stepped out, dripping warm water onto the tiles of the bathroom floor. He grabbed a large white towel from the rail and wiped away the excess water before he wrapped it around his waist and walked back into the bedroom.

The bed was still exactly the way he had left it after his dream, and he stared at it, lost in dreams of what could have been. If only I hadn't been such a *fool*. If only he had trusted his own feelings, if only he hadn't been so stupid as to not see hers, he might not be standing here alone right now.

His silent self-castigation was interrupted rudely as he heard a small gasp from the doorway. As though in slow motion, he swung around to find Kristen standing there.

******

Marlena stirred, the crisp cotton sheets rustling with her movement. She slowly opened her eyes to find that the bed beside her was empty. In a moment of inexplicable panic, she searched the room with darting eyes. A wave of nausea rolled through her, and she pressed the back of her hand to her mouth as she stared at the ceiling, willing herself to calm down. When it finally passed, she sat up, holding the sheet to herself. Her relief was almost palpable as Gene walked into the bedroom holding a tray of breakfast.