Chapter ten

It was the longest Irina and Jack had gone without talking to each other while being in the same house. After her statement that there would be no happy ending for them, he had walked out of the bedroom, keeping himself occupied in another part of the safe house until long after Irina had fallen asleep. She woke sometime during the night, surprised to see him curled up next to her, but instead of giving in to her desire to move closer to him, she rolled over and went back to sleep. He was already up by the time she woke again, so she said nothing about it.

Over breakfast, he had spoken only to relay the details of the meeting with Katya. Irina spent the day sleeping, showering every time she woke up. Jack had cleared the mess in the bathroom at some point, but she didn't comment. The sooner this day was over - the sooner she was with her sister, the sooner she and Jack could move on with their lives - the better for everyone.

The sun had just started to sink on the horizon when they set out for the market. Irina looked up at the sky, painted pink and red, and couldn't help but recall the last time she'd taken a moment to truly appreciate the sunset.

-- "I wish the sky was always this colour," Sydney says. "It's pretty."

"Not as pretty as you are." Jack scoops Sydney up into his arms and peppers her face with kisses.

"What about Mommy?"

"Mommy too." He smiles at her, his eyes twinkling with mischief. Later, when Sydney's in bed, he tells her there's nothing in the world more beautiful than she is. –

Irina dragged her thoughts back to the present. She could never recapture what she'd lost – what she had destroyed – and it was useless to think otherwise.

"We always wanted to come to India."

She glanced at Jack, who had adopted the guise of a tourist come to seek whatever India had to offer, like so many people these days. Irina was sure she looked as ridiculous as he did; he'd procured a wig from somewhere and Irina wondered if this was the ultimate insult: a blonde, hippie traveler.

Still, she thought, it was better than the alternative, and she and Jack did blend in with the other foreigners.

Jack smiled. "You said you wanted to try real Indian food, not the crap they serve back home."

Home.

She looked away, doing her best to keep a neutral expression on her face.

"Do you see her anywhere?" Jack's voice was subdued.

Irina shook her head. They turned a corner and began walking down a new aisle. Irina stretched out her hand to feel the fabrics as they passed each stall.

"Are you okay?" Jack asked. "Not too tired?"

"I'm not an invalid," she snapped.

Jack caught her elbow, forcing her to stop. "You're looking very pale."

"I'm fine."

He studied her for a moment, then released her arm. "Okay."

When they turned into another row of stalls, she hooked her arm though his. Furious that he'd been right, all she said was, "Can we walk a little slower?"

"Sure."

She heard nothing but concern in his tone, and forced herself to meet his gaze. The softness of his expression was one she was painfully familiar with; one she thought she'd never see again.

"Jack." Her voice was barely a whisper.

"Do you want to stop for a minute?"

"No."

They kept walking, slower this time, and Irina held onto Jack just a little tighter, telling herself that this was their last time together.

There was still so much left unsaid.

"Jack, tell Sydney I – Tell her I love her." She didn't mean for it to come out as a question, but she knew Jack owed her nothing. I love you, she wanted to add, but couldn't. He deserved more than she could give him.

He had always been too good for her.

"Every day," Jack said.

"Thank you." The words were inadequate, but they were all she could offer.

By the time they had walked through the market twice, Irina was ready to drop from exhaustion. She leaned into Jack. "She's not coming."

"She said she'd be here."

"Maybe she didn't believe you."

Jack fingered a strand of Irina's blonde hair, one corner of his mouth twisting downwards. "We can wait."

"She's not coming." Irina gave a half-hearted smile. "Thanks for trying, Jack. You'll never know what it means to me that you were willing to let me go."

They returned to the safe house in silence. Irina gratefully pulled off the wig and headed for the bathroom.

"You're showering again?"

He couldn't understand, she thought. She could still feel the guards' hands on her skin, could still feel Cuvee's breath at the back of her neck.

"Irina, I'm sorry she didn't come."

Irina turned around. "It's okay."

"No, it's not. Is there someone else we can try?"

"No. There's no one. I'll go back with you, Jack. I'll defect, tell them everything I know—"

"They'll kill you. Or they'll put you in jail for the rest of your life, and neither of those is an option."

"It doesn't matter anymore. It just – it doesn't matter."

"So that's it? You're just going to give up?"

She walked up to him and took his hands in hers. "Let me go, Jack. Sydney needs you."

"She needs you, too."

Irina shook her head. "She always loved you best."

"That is not true!"

"Jack, please." She kissed him; a brief, chaste brushing of her lips against his, then released his hands.

In that moment, the lights went out. Irina froze; time in solitary had left her with an unhealthy fear of complete darkness. She heard a brief scuffle, then a familiar voice said, "I've been waiting a long time to do this."