The relief she felt as the front door finally clicked softly shut was short lived. Almost instantly the flat settled into a silence that was unnatural after sharing a living space over the past few weeks.
Wearily Jac leant her head back against the door and tried to breathe through her sudden anxiety. The whole way home was the same as her entire hospital stay. She had wished to be left alone to process what ever it was that she was feeling.
She did not enjoy being the patient, the revealing gown, the harsh lights all made her feel as if she was held under constant observation, like her every flaw was visible under the pale stretch of her skin.
Even with only the taxi driver watching as discreetly as he could manage through the rear view mirror. She spent the entire journey avoiding his too small pale eyes, putting all her energy into glaring stubbornly at the back of the podgy mans chair. Silently daring him to ask any more questions after 'So what happened to you love?' went unanswered.
Michael had offered to take her home just once. She was glad he had not tried again, the notion made her cheeks warm with humiliation. She already felt weak enough and he had done so much already. Besides she had noticed the way he kept glancing at his phone, missed calls and messages from the hospital, from his family, people he had neglected because of her.
When she had woken from her restless sleep, sedatives finally wearing off so that the protection she felt at her colleague spending the night by her side quickly turned from a comfort to irritation. She was not the type of woman who wanted or needed a saviour so she had firmly declined his offer, quickly replacing her emotional walls before he could get even closer than he already was.
And there was a brief flash of relief in expressively dark eyes before it could be hidden. Maybe he just as uncomfortable with the ice queen falling apart just as much as she was of falling. He knew her well enough that he would not be able to change her mind so had rolled his eyes and called her by her surname. The pattern of fast shooting sarcasm was distancing and familiar enough that she was finally able to relax her tired muscles against the overly soft hospital bed.
Michael had organised a taxi to take her home and told her to call if she needed anything even though he knew she would never dream of doing such a thing. He had said her car had already been returned to its normal space outside the block of flats. She had not asked how he had managed to organise it but was grateful for one less thing to worry about. Then there was the tedious process of being discharged. The information she already knew because she had said it herself to more patients than she could count and the disproving looks when she had to tell them she lived alone, that there was no one to look after her.
Now she was finally alone safely inside the walls of a place that she had never really called her home in any way besides being the place where she lived. Only know she wanted to be somewhere else, anywhere, because alone there was no reason to pretend she was fine. And without motivation she was just too tired to protect herself from the maelstrom that stormed inside.
Every emotion conflicted with another, every part of her hurt from the bitter sense of betrayal to the dull thumping behind her eyes and the sharpest burning of the delicate wound in her side. She was just so damn tired. Too far gone to pick any emotion out of the tide.
Suddenly she felt her stomach plummet as she swallowed the urge to vomit. She would be stronger than this; she did not know how to do anything else. She would not start to panic and fall apart when really nothing had ever changed. She had always been alone and yet part of her still half expected to see her mother pad bare footed through the kitchen and ask where she had been.
She only had her mother back for a few weeks and yet it was enough, enough to make her hope again enough that emptiness felt foreign and sharply constant. She hated herself for believing so easily. Life had done nothing but teach her how foolish it was to trust, to love.
Exhausted she limped further into the flat shedding her jacket as she slowly reached into the fridge for a cool bottle of water to wash the dry acidic taste from her mouth. If she could summon the energy she would have showered. The cold sweats, an infected wound and a night in the hospital left her feeling worn and polluted. She had to wear her clothes from the previous day home. Her t-shirt had been ruined; she had tried not to grimace at the state of the flimsy grey fabric. The scrub top she had been given as a replacement was a salmon colour that did not compliment her ashen complexion.
There was nothing she could do. No way to salvage the situation or understand it especially with the fatigued numbness turning everything into an insufferable constant pain. She just needed to sleep and hope that by the time she woke she would heal enough to put herself back together.
She moved to her bedroom without realising only to freeze in the doorway. The sheets were still ruffled, the room was not her own anymore. She sat timidly on the bed almost afraid as the mattress shifted slightly against her weight and tried not to shake. Unconsciously she picked up a pillow and hugged it close in an attempt to draw some comfort.
A shaky laugh escaped her throat as her vision blurred with silent, swollen tears. It smelt of her, like her mothers perfume. The same sent that used to tickle her nose when her mother had leaned over and kissed her goodnight before she had left the first time. Only now it did nothing to placate her, it was just another reminder of everything she had lost.
And she was so tired; too tired to even contemplate changing she sheets. She just needed this nightmare to be over as soon as possible. Throwing the pillow to the floor Jac pulled her mobile from her trouser pocket toying with the small device with no idea who she planned on calling. Michael wasn't as option, not really. There was only one person she wanted with her but she had destroyed their relationship such a long time ago. And Joseph had already had done so much. The way he had listened and advised meant more than she knew how to say. She had no right to put this upon him, she did not even know how.
Besides she had to get used to being alone again.
She left her mobile on the corner of the bed, silently promising herself that when she felt stronger she would make the place hers again and clean away any traces of the other woman.
With a new resolve she wiped the salty wetness away from her face with the back of her hands. She was just so tired. Walking back into the stillness of her living room she sat on her sofa, gasping in pain as she bent down to take off her shoes.
Later she would try and comprehend all that had happened but not when she was struggling just to keep her eyes open. Lying back slowly with a hand against the wad of bandages that covered her side careful not to pull any stitches, she shivered against the coolness of the air and waited for sleep to take her away from the world.
