Return to Me

Fourteen

The next morning, Jack was discharged from the hospital and given a pair of crutches to help him get around. Although I'm worried about how that will treat his shoulder and how it heals, Jack assures me he'll be fine. I don't believe him.

We share a cab to the pharmacy to get our prescriptions and then head back to the apartment building to get some more rest.

Since the accident, I've lost track of what day it is, but the date on my phone tells me it's January 2nd. Wow. 2017 already...and I missed the New Year's Eve party...crap, I was really looking forward to that. When we arrive, I pay the cabbie and retrieve our things from the trunk before he drives away. Jack tries bending over in his crutches to pick up a bag and I rush over.

"Hey, I've got it. You just get up those stairs." I say, slinging the bag over my shoulder as well as my own and my purse.

Jack looks up at the stairs and takes a deep breath. I know he's thinking the same thing I am. How is he going to get up the stairs? Sure, there's not a lot to go up, but for someone using crutches, it has to be.

"Wait here--I'll be right back." I tell him and he nods before I bound up the steps to set our things inside the door where our doorman, Bernie, says he'll watch them for me. I've always liked Bernie, he's a nice old man. I come back down the steps and see Jack is already attempting to get up the first step. Cautiously, I take hold of his arm and place my other hand gently on his back.

"Okay, let's get you up these stairs. I'm going to be here the whole time." I promise and once again, he just nods, concentrating. I know in the back of my mind that I'm probably not helping much, but what else can I do? Plus I know me being here and supporting him makes us both feel a little better. It takes a few minutes, but we make it up with no trouble and there's Bernie waiting for us, holding the door open inside the lobby and our things still resting on the floor.

"Thanks, Bernie." I smile as I sling the bags over my shoulder again.

"No problem, Miss McCarthy." he looks over at Jack, who's calling the elevator. "Are you two going to need anymore help?"

"Thank you, but I think we've got it." Just then, the elevator arrives and the doors part, I wave to Bernie, as does Jack once he's inside the elevator and I follow him in and he pushes the number to his floor. I'm surprised that he's living on the same floor as me.

"I didn't know that you live on the fifth floor." I comment, trying to make some small talk.

"Yeah, 5J." he chuckles in response. 5J is right across the hall from me...well actually, across the hall and two doors down. All this time, we've been neighbors and I didn't know it. Funny how that worked out. It's as if fate is trying to tell me something.

The elevator comes to a stop and we both get off, and I follow Jack to his apartment. The door swings open and we step in. I stop just short of the door, not wanting to intrude.

"Ahh, home again." he says as he makes his way over to his kitchen. More than likely looking for something to eat. We both skipped breakfast; not hungry, nor eager to know what they were serving at the hospital. The food wasn't that great.

"Come on in, Rosie." I hear him say, giving me a grin. I step inside more and set everything down on the couch. Taking a look around, I notice how there are boxes still lying around from when he moved in a few months ago. He must be busy if he hasn't finished unpacking yet.

I join him in the kitchen, taking a seat at the island. "Can I help you? If you're hungry, I can make you some eggs or...something," I offer. He should be sitting down and resting, not trying to make himself something when I'm more than able to.

Jack closes the fridge and turns to me, grinning. "You make eggs? If I remember correctly, you've never been very efficient in the kitchen. Remember when you burnt those eggs that year we went on vacation in Sacramento?" Oh yeah. How can I forget? I nearly burned down the kitchen in the Parsons' vacation home. I was trying to be romantic for Jack and bring him breakfast in bed. Unfortunately, it didn't go as planned and I was lucky he came just in time to fix everything and I was to no longer be in charge of meals. But that was then. I grin at the memory, before shaking my head and looking him in the eye.

"Come on, sit down and I'll make you something. What about pancakes?" I get up from the chair and usher him out  and over to the seat I was just sitting in.

"Pancakes?" he chuckles.

"Come on, let me humor you a little." I say and he reluctantly agrees. And boy do I have a surprise for him.

After doing a little rummaging through his kitchen, twenty minutes later, I present a perfect stack of pancakes in front of Jack. To say the least, he looks shocked, and I feel pretty proud of myself. He picks up his fork for the first bite.

"The moment of truth." he announces eyeing me a little suspiciously. The fork easily cuts into the fluffy pancakes and he finally takes a bite. Shock rolls through him once more and he takes another bite. I know I did well and am all the more proud of myself.

"You've been holding back on me!" he exclaims between bites and pointing his fork at me. "I've known you for ten years and you've never made anything like this!"

I smile triumphantly. How can I not? A professional and highly regarded chef and five star restaurant owner enjoys my cooking!

"To think all this time, I thought you couldn't cook!"

I laugh and begin to fidget with my hands. "Actually, I couldn't cook."

"But--" I put up my hand and he lets me finish.

"I couldn't cook...but after...we got engaged...I started taking classes to surprised you, as sort of a wedding present." I reply nervously. I never got the chance to show him what I learned up until now, four years later and once again I feel terribly guilty for what I've done.

"You did that for me?" he asks.

I simply nod and I feel even worst when he stops eating and places his fork back onto the counter top. I shouldn't have said anything...I should have let him believe I was pretending to be bad at cooking. He gets up and I take that as my cue to leave. I set a piece of paper down on the counter with my number on it.

"Here's my phone number. Call or text if you need anything." I say as I avoid looking at him and head for the door, grabbing my things on the way.

"There you go, leaving again. I didn't do anything or even know what I could have possibly said to upset you and you're just walking out again." I stop in my tracks, just inches away from the door and close my eyes. I can hear his crutches against the floor, coming near me. I should just keep going. The door is right there! But I can't move. My feet feel like they're nailed there. Instead, I will myself to turn around. 

"Don't you dare." I hiss. He keeps moving toward me. "You have no idea--" I start, but I'm stopped when his hand comes up to my face and he kisses me. 

And then I feel it. The spark. The spark I felt when we first kissed, when I knew I was in love with him. But I fight it. I'm not going to kiss him back, I won't. When he realizes this, he pulls away and whispers, sounding as if he were almost begging. "Don't walk out on me again."

I can't. Tears begin to form, I feel the break inside me, that I felt yesterday in the hospital and the break I felt the day I was forced to leave him. But it's all too much to deal with right now. And I have Sam, I love Sam. I can't do this. 

Shaking my head, tears now running down my cheeks. "I have to go."

He instantly lets me go and freezes in place. I turn and open the door, feeling his eyes on my back as I do. When I'm out, I head down the hall to my apartment and throw my things inside quickly before heading back down stairs. Once outside, I hail for a cab and jump inside giving the cabbie the address and the taxi slowly pulls drives away.