He hated Chicago. He hated everything about it. Maria was just a little too overprotective, she wasn't even going to let him work. Not that he could remember how.
The only thing he could remember, were the things he wanted to forget. He was married with two wonderful little girls, he didn't need to keep remembering things about his ex-mistress.
Maria walked out onto the back porch, sitting down beside him. He'd been sitting there for countless hours, watching the lake and thinking about his life---or what he knew of it.
"Hi," she muttered, bringing him out of his trance.
He turned his head, looking at her briefly before looking back at the water. "Hey."
"Listen, I--" He shook his head causing her to stop speaking raise her eyebrows in question. "What?"
"I don't want to hear whatever excuse you're going to give me."
"Jack, I have no need for an excuse."
He sighed, frustrated with his life, he liked New York--he wanted to be there. "You need an excuse for bringing me here. I don't want to be here, this isn't my home."
Maria stood, anger in her eyes as she stood in front of him, blocking his gaze on the water. "This is your home! Your family is here... I'm here. This. Is. Your. Home. And just because she isn't here, doesn't mean it isn't home."
He heard the venom in her voice as she made mention of Samantha (that had to be who she was talking about). No wonder she had so quickly made sure he was on a plane to Chicago. She was trying to make it so that everything he remembered was about her. She didn't want him to know Samantha!
"Are you jealous of her?" he asked, the question slipping past his lips before he had a chance to stop it.
"Jealous?! No. I'm mad." That was obvious. "You ruined our family just so you could scr--"
"Shut up!" He stood, brushing past her and limping towards the master bedroom. She followed---oh how he just wanted her to leave him alone.
"You can just walk away from this, Jack! You pretend like you can't remember all the problems we had. She ruined everything! She ruined you, you were different after you had been with her. And you spent more time with her then you did your own children! You missed seeing them grow up!"
"Just shut up."
"Hanna knows. She knows about her."
-
"Daddy," she whispered, walking into the living room and sitting down on the couch beside her father.
"Hanna, what are you doing up?"
"Can't sleep." She looked down at the picture in her father's hands. It was from a company picnic the year before, her father stood in the middle of the photo. For the first time she noticed that in the picture he was staring at a woman that stood off to his side. She knew that woman---she worked with her father.
"You should go back to bed." Hanna caught a faint cracking in his voice and she looked up at her father's face. He was crying, tears falling down his cheeks. She had never seen him cry before.
"Who is she, Daddy?" Her voice was soft and sweet. "Daddy, why are you crying?"
"It's nothing, sweetheart--"
"Did she die?"
He shook his head. "No. I did something to hurt her and I'm afraid that I lost her friendship." He quickly wiped his eyes and turned to her, smiling. "Come on now, off to bed."
-
"I... I.. I have to go," he stated. He grabbed a duffel bag, filling it with clothes and walking out of the room, the memory floating around in his mind.
"Don't think we'll let you come back! You have broken their hearts one too many times!" Maria shouted after him.
To be continued...
The only thing he could remember, were the things he wanted to forget. He was married with two wonderful little girls, he didn't need to keep remembering things about his ex-mistress.
Maria walked out onto the back porch, sitting down beside him. He'd been sitting there for countless hours, watching the lake and thinking about his life---or what he knew of it.
"Hi," she muttered, bringing him out of his trance.
He turned his head, looking at her briefly before looking back at the water. "Hey."
"Listen, I--" He shook his head causing her to stop speaking raise her eyebrows in question. "What?"
"I don't want to hear whatever excuse you're going to give me."
"Jack, I have no need for an excuse."
He sighed, frustrated with his life, he liked New York--he wanted to be there. "You need an excuse for bringing me here. I don't want to be here, this isn't my home."
Maria stood, anger in her eyes as she stood in front of him, blocking his gaze on the water. "This is your home! Your family is here... I'm here. This. Is. Your. Home. And just because she isn't here, doesn't mean it isn't home."
He heard the venom in her voice as she made mention of Samantha (that had to be who she was talking about). No wonder she had so quickly made sure he was on a plane to Chicago. She was trying to make it so that everything he remembered was about her. She didn't want him to know Samantha!
"Are you jealous of her?" he asked, the question slipping past his lips before he had a chance to stop it.
"Jealous?! No. I'm mad." That was obvious. "You ruined our family just so you could scr--"
"Shut up!" He stood, brushing past her and limping towards the master bedroom. She followed---oh how he just wanted her to leave him alone.
"You can just walk away from this, Jack! You pretend like you can't remember all the problems we had. She ruined everything! She ruined you, you were different after you had been with her. And you spent more time with her then you did your own children! You missed seeing them grow up!"
"Just shut up."
"Hanna knows. She knows about her."
-
"Daddy," she whispered, walking into the living room and sitting down on the couch beside her father.
"Hanna, what are you doing up?"
"Can't sleep." She looked down at the picture in her father's hands. It was from a company picnic the year before, her father stood in the middle of the photo. For the first time she noticed that in the picture he was staring at a woman that stood off to his side. She knew that woman---she worked with her father.
"You should go back to bed." Hanna caught a faint cracking in his voice and she looked up at her father's face. He was crying, tears falling down his cheeks. She had never seen him cry before.
"Who is she, Daddy?" Her voice was soft and sweet. "Daddy, why are you crying?"
"It's nothing, sweetheart--"
"Did she die?"
He shook his head. "No. I did something to hurt her and I'm afraid that I lost her friendship." He quickly wiped his eyes and turned to her, smiling. "Come on now, off to bed."
-
"I... I.. I have to go," he stated. He grabbed a duffel bag, filling it with clothes and walking out of the room, the memory floating around in his mind.
"Don't think we'll let you come back! You have broken their hearts one too many times!" Maria shouted after him.
To be continued...