Shutting my front door behind me, I unintentionally let out a sigh of relief; I really didn't think I would make it home in one piece. I decide to get a shower, the need to try and wash away all that has happened today overwhelming me. I walk to my ensuite grabbing a couple of towels on the way. Stepping into the stream of hot water it feels so good against my tired body, but as I start washing my hair all the emotions that have been threatening to overtake me since Edora suddenly all hit at once and without even realising it at first the tears start pouring.

I think back over the past few hours and I feel that I did quite well. Even though I couldn't stop thinking about him with her, wondering how long it took him, how many days or weeks or whatever to get over me, to fall into her waiting arms. Because I know she wanted him, you could tell by the way she looked at him when we were first watching the so called fire rain. I just never thought that he would do that to me, I mean the morning before we left for that mission he told me loved me, and it wasn't the first time.

Even though all that was going through my head I still managed to keep up the act when we got back, because it is against the regs and we have always been so good at fooling everyone around us. I know I have.
I feel so tired, exhausted even, getting out the shower I go into my room to get changed, my bed looks so inviting. That's what the Janet told me, at the post mission check up, that basically I needed a good meal and lots of sleep, big shocker there eh. I cringe again thinking about all I went through to get him back when he probably would have preferred to have been left there.

I think about just lying down and hopefully escaping to a perfect dream world, but even looking at my bed brings back unwanted memories. Memories of being with him in it, doing things that I had never done with anyone before. What makes them so unwanted though is the thought that he may have done them with her, touching her the way he used to touch me, kissing her like he kissed me, the thought of him screwing her makes make shiver and starts me crying anew when I hadn't even realised I had stopped from earlier.

I quickly put my clothes on and go into the living room, not stopping at the kitchen as the thought of food turns my stomach; I guess this is what lovesickness is.
I lie on the sofa and close my eyes and I see a vivid picture of Jack from the last time I saw him, in the debriefing. I don't really remember much, I tried to pay attention but I am a girl, a girl who had just had her heart broken so I didn't have much of a chance really. I sat across the table from him. I managed to avoid eye contact for the most part, but I couldn't help it, call it morbid curiosity. I looked across at him at the same time he was looking at me, he held my gaze for a while and then when he was asked a question he gave me a slight smile and looked away to answer. At that point I hated him, just pure, passionate hate. How dare he smile, after knowing what he had done, he cheated on me, he fucked someone else and he looked at me and smiled, that evil fucking bastard.

I must have fallen asleep with my not so happy thoughts because the next thing I know it's dark and I can hear a knock at the door. I think about ignoring it and going back to sleep, but whoever it is is very persistent so I get up and walk towards the door.

When I open it I see Jack O'Neill standing on my porch