Chapter 9. Truth Or Dare

Kate's clothes were still wet from the rain, so Jack lent her a t-shirt, and she crawled into bed while he settled himself on the floor beside her. An awkward silence fell over them, and he couldn't help wondering if her thoughts were along the same line as his.

Probably not, he decided, after a moment. He couldn't seem to forget the way the t-shirt only came halfway down her thighs, leaving the rest of her long legs bare.

It wasn't like they hadn't had sleepovers before; in kindergarten, when they'd first met, they'd even slept in the same bed. But now, twenty-eight years later, this was something he couldn't even bring himself to contemplate. Their relationship had always been so innocent, so chaste; it felt wrong to be thinking about her like this, like he would any other beautiful woman sleeping in his bed, especially after everything she'd just told him about Wayne.

Jack knew he should be more concerned about that fact that she had a boyfriend than he was, but that just didn't seem to come into it, not now that he knew that given a choice, she'd choose him.

It was strange, the idea of being with Kate in that way. He'd spent the last twenty years waiting for her, subconsciously, at least, but now that that it wasn't just a dream, it scared him. They'd both built up so many expectations; what if it didn't work out? Their lives were so different; Jack didn't want to hurt her again when she was just starting to forgive him, to add to the emotional debris that already littered her turbulent life. It would be better never to be with her at all.

He turned to face the wall, willing himself to focus on the rain, not the sound of her breathing, so close he could almost reach out and touch her. He needed to keep his head clear, at least until he was sure that it wasn't just nostalgia and loneliness making him think this way about her.

He was saved from any more of these, what he considered inappropriate, thoughts, when she turned on the light by the bed, squinting down at him while her eyes readjusted. "Want to play truth or dare?" she asked with a mischievous grin, the old Kate resurfacing from somewhere beneath all the nightmares and bad memories. It as always her favourite game as a kid.

"It's the middle of the night, Kate," he said, shielding his eyes. "And you have to work in the morning. Don't you think we should be getting some sleep?"

"I can't sleep. I never sleep well in strange beds, you should remember that."

He hadn't, but again, he felt his body temperature begin to rise, thinking about her in his bed. He focused his energy on giving her a slightly incredulous look. They were both in their thirties now; didn't she think they were both a little old be playing this game?

Apparently not. She grinned, goading him, he knew. "When did you become such an old man? Do they teach you that at medical school, along with how to stitch people up?"

It was a unsettling, how familiar this routine was after all these years. She was as good as calling him a chicken, in the hopes that he would try to prove her wrong.

It was nice to see her smiling, he decided, but not nice enough to compel him to give in. He was afraid of where this game would take them; he'd already learned more truths about her in the past hour than he'd ever wanted to know. Was he really ready to taint those perfect memories of the childhood Kate with knowledge of the sad, scared woman she had become?

She'd always taken his unimaginative dares as a kid, Jack reminded himself, so maybe he wouldn't have to. He smiled, remembering the night, a few months before he left, when he'd dared her to kiss him. She had, and since it was the first kiss for both of them, it had been clumsy, and awkward, and over too soon, but he still thought of it sometimes, wondering what it would be like to kiss her again now that they'd both had a little more practice. If she didn't have a boyfriend, he might have considered daring her to do it again, for old times sake, but there was a line, and he was determined not to cross it, even in the name of fun. Jack may have hated James, but he just wasn't that kind of guy.

She was waiting for his answer, so, at a loss for what else to do, he agreed. He let her go first, figuring that truth was the safest option. He didn't have anything to hide, and he was too old to be running down the street naked, or jumping off the roof, or any of the other stupid things he'd have to do if he let her choose a dare for him.

She thought for a moment, staring at the carpet, then asked, "When exactly did you move on?"

Jack thought about pretending not to understand the question, but he knew that she knew that he knew what she was talking about. "The truth…" he repeated, knowing that she could never prove he was lying if he didn't answer honestly, but wanting to be honest anyway for some reason. "I'm not sure I ever really did. I've had girlfriends, but I've never been married, never been engaged… I lived with a woman once, for a couple of months, but it didn't work out."

She continued to stare at the carpet as she listened, and Jack couldn't tell what she was thinking. He was afraid he'd overstepped the line with his answer, but then she nodded, murmuring, "Okay. Truth."

This surprised Jack; he was already wracking his brains for something he could dare her to do that wouldn't be too noisy, or public, or embarrassing for both of them. "Did you ever think about writing to me?" he asked, deciding to use the game as an opportunity to get answers to some of his questions, the way she was.

She rolled over onto her back, staring at the ceiling. "All the time," she said. "In fact, I did, write to you. I just couldn't bring myself to send them. I was still too angry, I wanted to hurt you the way you hurt me." She turned back over, meeting his eyes as she added, "But I never threw them away. They're at home, in a box under my bed."

Jack thought about this, wondering if James knew that she still kept the letters she'd written to him twenty years ago under their bed. Somehow he doubted it. He couldn't ask her, though, because it was her turn to ask him a question.

"You said there were other girls, in L.A. Did you love any of them?"

"No. That's why I never married any of them."

He could see another question on the tip of her tongue, and he thought he knew what it was, but she'd already used up her turn, so he asked, "Why aren't you and James married? You've been together a while now, haven't you?"

The last part was cheating a little, but she answered that first anyway. "On and off since high school. He didn't waste much time after you left.

"He's asked me, a few times now, but I keep telling him I'm not ready. He wants to start a family, he has for a while, but I… I guess part of me is still waiting for something better to come along. That doesn't sound too awful, does it?" She looked down at him for confirmation, so he answered, "No, no it doesn't. You deserve better, Kate. Why do you let him hurt you?"

It was his turn, so she had to answer. "I don't know," she said, climbing off the bed to sit beside him on the floor. "I wish I did."

Jack searched her face, but she wasn't being evasive this time. She honestly didn't know, or at least, couldn't explain it, not without delving into the part of her life that neither of them wanted to revisit, so he let it go.

She grinned as she asked him, "If I hadn't been there today, would you have hit him?"

Jack laughed, relieved that she wasn't too freaked out or angry about the run in at the diner. "Probably," he agreed, but when he saw that she wasn't satisfied with this answer, he added, "Okay, yeah."

Her expression softened into a gentle smile, that was sad, but touched. "You shouldn't feel bad, Jack," she said. "God knows he deserves it sometimes."

It wasn't his turn anymore, but Jack couldn't help putting another question to her, the same one that had been plaguing him all day, ever since he learned that she was still here. "Are you happy?"

She shook her head. "No. I haven't been happy for twenty years."

There were tears in her eyes now, so Jack put a gentle hand on her arm, willing her to look at him. When she did, he said, "I really am sorry, you know. I'm sorry for leaving, but more than that, I'm sorry for not coming back."

"I should never have expected you to, Jack." As she looked into his eyes, Jack felt the return of that tension he'd been grappling with ever since she came out of the bathroom wearing only his t-shirt. She must have noticed it too, because she said, "Remember that time you dared me to kiss you? Do you ever think about that?"

"Sometimes," he told her, neglecting to mention that he'd been thinking about it only moments before.

"Have you ever thought about trying it again?"

Jack wanted to say no, but it was his turn to be honest, and he owed her for asking two question before. This would count as her second. "Yeah, Kate, but we can't. Not now."

"Why?" she pressed, looking hurt at what she must have taken as rejection on his part. "Because of James? Do you really think ours is the only bed he's sleeping in at night? He's not even that subtle about it, there's this police officer, down at the local station. Half the town knows about it. Why else do you think I haven't made a complaint against him?"

"I'm sorry about that, Kate," he said. "I really am. But I'm not going to kiss you, not while you're still officially with him, even as a dare. You deserve better than that. After all this time, we both do."