Jack folded his hand over Ronnie's, letting her know that he was there. For her. Whenever she was ready. He was there.
How many more times am I going to see you in a hospital bed, darling? How many more times?
He looked away from her face, knowing that she wasn't sleeping, she was just lying in the hospital bed with her eyes shut. She wasn't sleeping, she was pretending she wasn't there. Exactly what she was pretending, Jack had no clue.
When did he ever when it came to Ronnie?
His eyes cast over her bandaged wrists and immediately he turned away, physically twisting his body so that he wouldn't have to see.
That's you all over, isn't it? Turning away so you don't have to see, to deal with it. You knew this could happen – didn't Amy's christening show you that? There were pills, tons of 'em, all over her bedroom floor. You knew it, but still you pretended it away. Didn't confront her, didn't talk to her, didn't ask for her to get help.
And now look.
Look at what's happened.
Jack's resolve hardened as he forced himself to look at Ronnie, to really look at her and see everything he had been ignoring for the past year. Her skin was pale, thin even, the loss of blood contributing greatly to her appearance. But it couldn't all be down to that.
No, the devastation on her face wasn't the result of blood loss.
This was something else. Something only Ronnie knew.
Getting up from his seat and standing by the head of her hospital bed, Jack tentatively ran his fingers across the curve of Ronnie's cheek. "What is it, darling?" He whispered. "What is it that's haunting you?"
Jack could feel the hot, angry tears brimming his eyelids, threatening to slip down his face. "I am so sorry," he murmured as he pressed his lips to Ronnie's forehead. "I am so sorry for not helping you, for not seeing that you needed it. I'm sorry you couldn't come to me."
He could feel his body shuddering with the weight of his grief, for Bradley, for the relationship that hadn't survived between him and Ronnie, for the baby that was never theirs. Jack wept for them all. His lips remaining on Ronnie's face as he clung onto her frail body.
Minutes passed, Jack's cries suddenly halted as he felt Ronnie's hand creep out from under his and tenderly cup his neck. "It's not you," she whispered. "It's him. He took something. He took something and I can't . . . get it back."
Jack resisted the urge to pull away from the contact so that he was able to look at her properly. He wanted to stay this way forever, the two of them simply holding onto each other.
"What are we talking about here, Ron?" He asked, attempting to press her for more detail.
Jack heard the hollow smile in her voice.
"Nothing. . . It's nothing."