CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

THE NEXT DAY

Martha heard a knock on her hospital room door. She looked up; expecting it to be Jack. She was ready to be discharged, and Jack was supposed to be picking her up. But she was surprised when Robbie and Tasha walked in.

"Hey," they smiled at her.

"What are you guys doing here?" Martha asked them.

"We were on our way to Yabbie Creek to do some shopping, and we thought that we'd stop in and say a quick hello," Tasha explained.

"Oh. Well, you're lucky I'm still here. Jack's picking me up soon," Martha said as she finished packing her bag.

"So, how are you and the baby?" Robbie asked.

"We're good. I'm feeling much better, and I'm glad to be getting home," Martha told them. "The only problem is that I'm getting treated like I'm helpless. Everybody thinks that I need a babysitter, and of course that babysitter is Jack," she huffed.

"He just wants to help," Tasha exclaimed.

"I don't need help. I can take care of myself," Martha insisted.

"Look Martha. We don't mean to pry or stick our noses in your business, but Jack told us that you've been acting really cold towards him over the last few days. And the truth is; we've noticed it aswell," Robbie said.

"Isn't it great that instead of talking to me, Jack goes and talks to everybody else about his problems," Martha said sarcastically.

"But that's the thing Mac. He does try to talk to you, but all you do is shut him out or ignore him," Tasha sighed.

"No, I don't," Martha stated stubbornly.

"Yeah, you do," Robbie pointed out.

Martha glared at them. "I don't know if you've heard, but my father died a few days ago," she spat out. "It's not something that I can just get over. I'm hurting so much, and now everybody thinks that I'm being a bitch. I'm sorry if you all think that. So what if I don't want to talk. Because talking about it makes me hurt more," she continued.

"Mac," Tasha started but was cut off.

"And I'm so sorry that I'm not sipping friggin milkshakes down at the diner, and pretending that I'm happy and okay. Because I'm not happy and I'm not okay. My father is dead," Martha cried.

"Hey, we're sorry. We weren't trying to upset you," Robbie said.

"All we're saying is give Jack a chance. Don't shut him out. He loves you, and he just wants to help," Tasha told Martha.

"Like I said before; I don't need help," Martha exclaimed.

Just as Martha stopped, Jack appeared in the doorway. "Hey," he smiled as he walked into the room. Jack noticed that Martha's bag was already packed, so she must have been ready to go.

"Can we go now?" Martha asked him.

"Yep, let's go," Jack picked up her bag.

"Good," Martha stated, and walked out without even saying goodbye to Robbie and Tasha.

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LATER THAT EVENING

Jack made his way into the lounge room where Martha was sitting; watching the evening news.

"Are you sure that you don't want anything else to eat?" he asked her.

"I told you before that I was fine," Martha replied harshly.

"Just let me know if you want anything else," Jack told her, as he sat next to her on the couch.

"You don't have to stay here, you know," Martha looked at him. "I can take care of myself".

""I know that, but I'm staying and that's final," Jack stated.

Martha huffed and looked back at the TV. She knew that she was being unfair to him. He didn't deserve it, but she couldn't seem to stop. And besides she didn't want to get close with him. She couldn't. She'd already lost her mum, and now her dad. Everybody she loved always ended up getting taken away from her. The same would probably end up happening with Jack. So, if she kept a distance between them, then maybe it wouldn't hurt as much when that time came.

"So, how about I run you a nice hot bath," Jack then offered.

"No Jack," Martha snapped. "If I want one, I'll do it myself".

"You know what? I'm sick of this. What is it that I've supposed to have done?" Jack demanded. "Because I have no idea why you're being like this".

"I don't know what you're talking about. I'm not doing anything," she fobbed him off.

"Martha, come on," Jack said softly, and reached out for her hand. "What's going on? Tell me, please. I just want to help you get through this".

"Stop it," Martha cried as she jumped up from her seat. She started to storm off towards her room.

"Why do you do that?" Jack called after her.

Martha stopped in her tracks, and turned slowly to face him. "Do what?" she asked.

Jack got up and started walking towards her. "Cruelly shut other people out. People who are trying help you," he said.

"I don't need their pity. Or yours for that matter," Martha said to him.

"Someone offers you tenderness, and you misread it as pity," Jack started. "Besides, what's wrong with a little pity? We all need to be pitied sometimes," he said softly.

Martha looked at Jack. He was standing right in front of her now. He was so close, and he smelt so good. All she wanted to do was touch him, and kiss him. She moved forward.

"Well then," Martha said silkily, as she placed one of her hands on his shoulder and the other on his chest. "Pity me," she purred in his ear.

Jack stood still. What the hell was going on? One minute she was having a go at him, and the next she was all over him. The next thing he knew; her lips were pressed against his, and she was instigating a deeper kiss. Without even thinking, he pulled her in closer and kissed her back. But then all of a sudden he pulled away. This is wrong, he thought.

"Martha," he shook his head. God, he wanted too, but he didn't think it was a good idea. She was in a fragile state at the moment, and he didn't want to take advantage of that.

"Don't you want me anymore?" Martha whispered as she blew soft kisses across his cheek; trying to entice him.

"Of course I do. You have no idea how much I want you," Jack said huskily. "But we can't," he said as he moved away.

"Excuse me," Martha stared at him in shock. What was he doing? This was the second time that he had done this to her.

"We can't Martha," Jack started. "You're in a fragile position at the moment. You've just lost your dad, and you're not thinking straight," he continued.

"I'm thinking perfectly straight," Martha snapped at him. "You've been at me for weeks; trying to get back together. And now all of sudden you don't want too. What's wrong?" she wanted to know.

"I don't want to take advantage of you while you're so upset," Jack began. "I don't want you to wake up in the morning and regret anything. If we get back together, I want it to be because you really want too, and not because it was just a spur of the moment thing," he explained to her.

"You are such a liar," Martha laughed sarcastically. "That's not the reason. It's just an excuse, because you don't want to be with me anymore. You don't love me anymore," she then started to cry.

"What?" Jack looked at her like she was crazy. "I never said I didn't love you. Of course I love you. I always have. Why would you even think that?"

Martha didn't listen to him; she just kept on with her rants. "So what is it? What's wrong with me? Is because I look like a fat pig now? Is there somebody else? Maybe you've realized that you want to be with Megan, and not me," she kept crying. More and more tears were falling down her cheeks.

Jack looked at her; still in shock. Where was all this coming from? He moved towards her, and grabbed hold of her shoulders. "Stop it," he ordered. "Are you listening to yourself? All this crap is coming from your mouth, and none of it is true. You need to stop this, right now".

"You were the one who said that you didn't want to be with me anymore," she looked away from his gaze; still crying.

"No. No, I didn't. You just presumed that's what I meant," Jack told her. "I love you. Just you," he said.

Martha pulled away from him and spun around to walk away. "Screw you," she spat out and stormed off to her room. A few moments later Jack heard her door slam.

"Damn it," he cursed out loud.

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