Back in the present, Jay looks at himself in the mirror again. He has bags under his eyes. He's tired. He hasn't slept in days. His clothes are different again. He looks down at his shoes. They are new and shiny. He hates dress shoes. The new black slacks are uncomfortable and the white dress shirt has shaving cream near the bottom. He gave up on trying to get it out five minutes ago. He puts his tie on and realizes this is real.
Anger surges through him again and he punches his reflection. Glass rains down into the sink, bouncing off the counter and onto the floor. The tears are flowing again and he braces himself against the counter as sobs rack through his body. A few minutes pass and pain sets in his hand. It's bleeding and there are glass shards sticking out in a few places. Now he has shaving cream and blood on his shirt.
He sighs and opens the medicine cabinet, pulling out tweezers, hydrogen peroxide, and gauze. He finished dressing the wound and walked into the kitchen. He grabs a broom and goes back to the bathroom.
After he cleans it up, he picks out a new shirt. It's blue and still has the tag on it. He takes off his tie reaches for the shirt. He pulls off the tag and the now dirty white shirt. He puts on the blue shirt and tie as he walks toward the door, grabbing his jacket and putting his sunglasses on before he steps outside. No hat today.
He leaves his house and walks over to his car. He opens the door and tosses his jacket on the passenger's seat as he sits down. He starts the car and sighs.
"This is going to be a long day" he says to him self. He places his hand on the shifter and puts the car in reverse. He glances over his shoulder and pulls out of the driveway. He looks at the dashboard.
The clock reads 6:30 a.m..
He puts the car in park against the curb. He grabs his cell phone and dials the number for the fiftieth time in three days. It rings, and rings finally someone picks up the phone.
"Hey, it's Jay. Please don't hang up this time"
The voice sighs "I don't have time for this."
" I know it's been awhile but I have to talk to you. It's important."
"Okay, go ahead and start talking." The voice responds.
"No, not on the phone, I'm on my way over." Jay hangs up before they can refuse.
He puts the phone down and reaches over his shoulder, pulling his seatbelt across his chest and lap, clicking it in to place. He puts the car in drive and accelerates quickly.
As houses fly by, he is lost in the past again.
After that day in the park, he had felt lucky to have been close enough to smell her sweet scent. Looking back, he wished that could have been enough for him. But it wasn't. Not after she hurt him for the second time in twenty-four hours.
