The doorbell rang, rousing Jack from a deep sleep. Groaning, he lifted his head, disoriented. What time is it?
He checked his wristwatch that was resting on his nightstand, it read 8:17. Damn. His brief nap turned into a four hour one. The hours at the hospital were kicking his ass. Such that the natural rhythm of his internal body clock was now completely off. He rose from the bed wondering who could possibly be at his door on a Saturday night. He wasn't expecting anyone. Yawning, he shuffled his way down the dark hallway to the apartment's entrance when the bell chimed again.
"I'll be right there," he called out groggily.
Pinching the inner corners of his eyes, he opened the door. The glaring light from the hallway forced his, not yet awake, unadjusted eyes to shut and he quickly placed his forearm over them protectively.
"Hi Jack."
Still squinting, he took a second to register that Amy was standing before his doorway.
"Hi?" His brow knitted in that typical way of his when he was bewildered.
She giggled at his earnest (underwhelmed) reaction to her presence and gave him that look of expectation to be invited in.
"Are you okay?" Jack had no idea what to say to her. Their paths had crossed once since they broke up and they had exchanged about a half-dozen words.
"Can I come in?"
"Sure. I guess." He stepped aside to allow her entry. He hit on a few light switches and watched her walk towards his living room. Shaking his head, he released an audible exhale and followed her path.
Now sitting on his sofa, she asked, "You're probably wondering why I'm here."
"Yeah, I guess you can say that." He stood there with his arms folded across his chest. The stance wasn't hostile or defensive, it just was … indifferent.
A small frown pursed her lips, she noticed that he seemed completely disinterested by her presence and his eyes hadn't even bothered to wander down to her shapely legs. She was wearing a micro miniskirt for that singular purpose. She shrugged slightly, 'Oh well, she would just have to get to the point.'
"My father has been diagnosed with an inoperable tumor and I was hoping -" She released a tiny whimper that could almost sound rehearsed, but Jack didn't detect anything.
"I'm sorry to hear that." His voice was sincere.
"His doctors are saying he has about a year, but I came here to ask you for a huge favor. Can you please ask your father whether he would see my dad? I tried scheduling a consult, but his assistant said that the first available appointment is five weeks away. But my family can't wait that long."
"Sure. I mean … of course. I'll speak to him."
Amy sat immobile not motioning to leave and Jack read that as her wanting him to call his father immediately.
Gesturing with his hand in the shape of holding an invisible phone, he asked, "You want me to call him right now?"
Sagging her shoulders with relief and an exhale, Amy answered with an emphatic, "YES!"
"I'll be back in a few minutes, okay?" Jack left to go to his bedroom, so he could speak to his father in private. Amy watched him leave and close the door behind him. To be honest, she had hoped for a warmer reception. Through some mutual friends she heard that he had graduated from med school, a year early even, that he was now on his way to becoming a neurosurgeon. She always knew he could amount to more than being a teacher. At least he wasn't married, so there was a glimmer of hope. A quick flash of them together, a true gorgeous power couple flickered in her mind's eye.
She looked around his apartment and noticed that nothing much had changed except … for the fact that from what she could see or couldn't see. He didn't have any of the artwork or pillows that she picked out for him displayed. She stood up to inspect further and sure enough, it was all gone. A sour taste rose up her throat. Not that she ever acknowledged it, but Jack was the only man that ever bruised her ego. Amy was always the dumper, certainly not the 'dumpee'.
Her surly thoughts were broken by the familiar ringing of an iPhone. She followed the sound to the kitchen and stopped to read the lit up screen "Kate".
Amy's head drew back for a second at the familiarity of that name. It was her. She knew it. Call it feminine intuition or whatever, she knew it was his sister's little friend that was calling Jack on a Saturday night.
Without a second of hesitation, her finger tapped on the green "Answer" .
Using a deliberately feminine, sultry voice, she greeted Kate, "Hello."
There was conspicuous silence on Kate's end and that made Amy draw a smile. Again, Amy said, "Hello?"
Somewhat confused by the unexpected woman answering Jack's phone, Kate spoke into the receiver, "I'm sorry. I must've dialed the wrong number-"
"If you're trying to reach Dr. Jack Shephard, this is his phone."
Confused silence.
"Kate?"
Kate was really dumbfounded now. Who was this woman? And why did she say her name with a tone of familiarity?
"Yes? This is Kate, but … uhm." She could feel her heart pick up speed. She was afraid … and frustrated. Sounding almost irritated now, Kate asked, "I'm sorry. But, who am I speaking to?"
Amy's voice sounded almost like a drawl. "Kate. It's Amy. I don't know if you remember me, but we first met a few year's back at Christian's house. For dinner. I was Jack's girlfriend."
Panicked, paralyzing pause.
With a deep swallow, Kate could barely get her words out. "I ... I remember. Can you please put Jack on the phone?"
"I'm sorry. I can't. He's in his bedroom right now. He's … occupied at the moment. But I can pass on the message that you called. Is that good?"
Amy then promptly and gleefully hit the "End" tab before Kate had a chance to answer. Amy smirked. That poor girl was literally stunned into silence. Oh well. Maybe that should teach her from stealing other women's boyfriends. Because Amy was now thoroughly convinced that Kate was the sole reason for their break up. She suspected it then, but it was just as good as confirmed for her now.
The sound of Jack's bedroom door swinging open forced her to quickly place the phone back on the counter and dash into the living room.
With his hands flexing inside the front pockets of his jeans, he approached her, "Spoke to my dad and he said he'll make time for your father next week." He then began to walk to the front door, "Uhm. It was nice to see you, I'm sorry about your dad. I have an early shift, so I better get back to sleep."
She stood in front of the open door and traced her fingers up his forearm, "Thank you, Jack."
And then she left.
Jack stepped back inside, raised his hand to rub the back of his neck slowly before shrugging his shoulders at that awkward goodbye. He walked into the quiet living room to watch some TV.
'This wasn't happening'. That was the only thought she could discern as she reeled from the shocking sucker punch to her gut.
Her throat was constricting, making her breathe too fast, making her feel panic, making her want to scream.
With a shaky hand, she switched off the lamp on her nightstand and fell back against her pillow to sob. The sobbing so intense, it shook the frame of her bed. In the dark, she saw hazy flashes of Jack with Amy, their sweaty limbs entwined, rolling around on his mattress. She wanted to dig her eyes out, to stop the images from poking more holes in her heart.
She felt betrayed. She felt alone. That all too familiar feeling of someone you love being taken away unexpectedly came back in nauseating waves. She was going to be sick.
Why didn't she have anything left of her (long ago) expired Prozac prescription? She wanted to down it in fist loads and drift away.
Henry's sweet smile came to mind, his squeal and two missing front teeth. She wrapped her arms across her chest and then thought of her mom, how much she wished she could be here for her now. To hold her, whisper in her ear and tell her all those things that a mom tells her daughter when a boy breaks her heart.
For a long while after her mom had passed away, each time she remembered her mother's death it felt like a harsh slap to the face. And what had made it worse was that everything she would do that day forward after her mom died would only separate them more and more. The little events of her daily life, the ones that her mother could no longer participate in, would just make the distance between them grow further.
Now, starting now … for the rest of her life, Jack would slowly fade away too ... into the distance.
Jack wasn't dead, but for Kate, it felt like he was - yanked away from her just like that. The pain, the sense of loss … it felt the same really. Exactly the same. Like a knife twisting in her middle before slowly drawing out and disembowelling her.
She knew. She knew one day he would be gone too, because that's what happens.
Except for Sam. Sam was always there.
She lay in her bed still immobile, stunned with despair, now fresh out of tears.
At some point, after the streak of daylight peeked through her drapes, the faint morning sounds of dogs being walked and beeping car horns floated up from the street, Kate finally drifted off to sleep.
By Monday afternoon, Jack began to worry. He had called Kate at least a dozen times, texted and emailed her, all attempts yielding no response.
"Jack, you need to concentrate. Put away your phone ... NOW." Christian quipped.
Jack lifted his attention from the device sitting in his palm. His dad was right, he hadn't paid notice at all during his rounds this morning.
But it wasn't like Kate to not return his calls.
"You're right. Just give me a minute, okay?"
Without letting Christian respond, Jack walked down the corridor and turned the corner. He checked his phone call list and and hit "All", he began to scroll down to count the number of times he had tried to reach her, then he stopped to see an incoming call from Kate's line.
On Saturday.
At 8:29 pm.
He hit the side arrow tab to open the window to get more information. The call had ran for one minute and eight seconds.
His eyes blinked rapidly, wondering if he was actually reading this properly. A prickle of cold sweat ran down his back. He raked his hand through his hair. What the fuck?
Now, bracing himself with one arm against the wall, realization struck - Amy had picked up his phone and spoken to Kate. Like a computer, his head began to process the facts, the implications of a conversation between Kate and Amy. Kate thought that something happened between them. Correction, Kate thinks that he slept with Amy.
He didn't even give a shit enough about Amy to want to strangle her, he cared about only ONE thing. His mind was focused on one person - his Kate. He could only imagine what she was thinking.
Despite a growing sense of anxiety, he knew what he needed to do.
"Dad, I'm taking a few days off." A crackle of panic was plainly recognizable in his voice.
Christian scoffed at his son's announcement, "You can't do that. You already took some time off in February and March. Jack, it's not even May yet -"
Resolutely, Jack shook his head and locked eyes with his father, "No, Dad. I'm going whether you 'let' me or not. And if you want to fire me… go ahead, fire me. None of this would be happening in the first place if I didn't stay here. I should have gone to New York like I was meant to."
Jack didn't give his father a chance to ask what the hell was going on. Instead Christian simply had to watch his son stalk off, presumably, to exit the hospital. He shook his head in confusion and disapproval. He had no idea what happened with Jack or what was making him leave the hospital, drop his responsibilities, ignore his obligation to his patients. But he suspected it had something to do with Kate. As he always knew, Kate brought out the weakest aspects of Jack. Unwittingly, of course. Kate was good natured and wanted nothing but the best for his son, but what did good intentions matter, when Jack couldn't be rational around her?
She had been drifting uneasily between dream and sleep when she bolted upright at the sound of Jack's voice whispering in her ear, but it was just in her head. She looked around dazed and noticed that her bed felt damp, and over her shoulder she saw the clammy, body-shaped depression on the mattress where she had been sleeping.
What day was it? And why didn't she care?
Kate ground the flat of her palms against her face in an attempt to stop the pain. But the feeling returned, that suffocating sensation like a plastic bag had been thrown over her head.
How was it possible to love and miss someone as much as she did Jack?
Tuesday morning, the cab pulled up in front of Kate's small walk-up building. A tenant was stepping out and Jack quickly squeezed into the lobby entrance before the door closed. Two-steps at a time, he bound up each flight. He could only imagine how angry she was at him. During the entire plane ride he carefully rehearsed his words. The words that would convince her that Amy was a liar and that his love for Kate was unwavering. He needed her to believe him. She had to.
Nikki had let him into the small apartment, where he had found Kate's other housemate sitting on the sofa looking at him with disapproval.
"Kate hasn't left her room in days. She won't talk to us. I was about to call the school's student health clinic because we're so worried about her. I think she needs to see a doctor or something." Nikki told him, her voice weighed down with concern.
Jack nodded and released a heavy exhale, "I'm going to go talk to her." Jack began to mentally prepare himself to find Kate distraught. A while back, Sam had taken Jack aside and confided in him about Kate's emotional history since the deaths of her brother and mother. Sam had wanted Jack to understand why Kate was deadset on going to New York with him. That he had also hoped Kate would finish college in California and that she would try to loosen her over-attachment to him.
Carefully, he opened the door to her bedroom and immediately Jack could feel the force of Kate's disconsolation hit him in the chest. It broke his heart.
He dropped his bag near the door as he stepped in and found her in the dark, in the shadows with her face into the pillow.
"Kate?"
"Jack?" It came out almost like a cry. She lifted her head to face him. The panic must have been clearly written on Jack's face because of instead of turning him away, she reached for him. He rushed over and, in two steps, he enveloped her tiny frame into his arms. Squeezing so hard that he may actually have been hurting her.
"Kate. Sweetheart, don't do this to yourself. I love you too much." He murmured into the curls by her ear. A few teardrops rolled down his face while he inhaled her, relieved to feel her again. A few moments later he pulled himself away, so he could really look at her.
Kate pushed herself up from the bed and he could see her terrible condition, her eyes were puffy and swollen with red, so stark against her fragile pale skin that was virtually translucent.
He cupped her tear-stained freckled cheeks and drew small circles over them with the pads of his thumbs, "You need to believe me, Kate. Nothing. Happened. With. Her. Nothing. I swear."
Her shaky breaths sounded almost like a child's hiccups as she studied his sincere and pain-wrenched expression.
His eyes moved all over her face, trying to gage her possible reaction to what he was about explain. He decided to take the chance.
"Kate, she stopped by uninvited to my apartment. She told me her father was sick and asked me for a favor - to see whether my dad would give a consult. I went to my room to use the phone to call my dad. I … I don't know what happened in that time, but she must have answered my cellphone when you called. I don't understand why she'd do that. I have no idea what she said to you. But you have to believe me that nothing went on. She was gone within fifteen minutes. I love you, Kate. I love you. Please…."
Blinking back some tears, Kate believed him. She searched for and found the truth in his eyes and a delicious wave of relief washed over her.
Nodding, she wiped away the streaks of wetness and Jack's shoulders sagged with reassurance. Jack urged her to sit up so he could gently maneuver behind her, resting his back against her headboard. With her cheek comfortably leaning against his chest and her body cradled between his legs, he rhythmically stroked her shoulders.
"I don't want you to go back to L.A." She whimpered while fisting the fabric of his t-shirt.
He lifted his chin from its resting position on the top of her head, "I just need to go for a week or two, so I can tender my resignation, okay Kate? And I need to figure out what to do with the apartment. But I'll return right away. I'm not going to wait until August like we planned. I'll find another residency. We'll get an apartment near the school and that's that." An assuring smile crossed his face.
She nodded into his chest, feeling better and comforted from listening to his plan for their future. They remained like that for a long while, with his thumb running over her knuckles and tracing the tiny bones.
Finally, Jack felt prompted to get her showered and fed. He stood up to draw the drapes and lift up the window to get some fresh air into her room. The hem of the curtain brushed the windowsill and the cool April breeze sent a shiver up Kate's spine.
They made love that night with hungry desperation. But they didn't share the knowledge with one another that, for the first time, the intensity rattled them.
Jack pushed up on his flexed arms and tried to carefully ease himself out, his penis sore and stinging. "I can't Kate." He hissed.
In an iron grip, she clung onto his slippery hips, refusing to let him go. "No. Please, don't stop!" Her plea was desperate sounding and he sensed that it came from a place other than desire.
He looked around at the mess of sweaty, damp balled up sheets ... they were practically laying on the bare mattress. Panting, gripping onto his shoulders and arching her chest up to his, she wrapped her legs around him, and opened her mouth to draw him in a kiss until he was kissing her back.
Wincing at her bucking movements below him, he yelped, "Kate. Stop! I'm finished." His private parts were, at this point, in considerable pain and he couldn't imagine that hers were faring much better. He had never been with her like this and it unnerved him.
Leaning on his forearms, he looked down at her, her pretty breasts heaving and slicked with sweat. Tiny droplets of perspiration beading on her nose and forehead. She was beautiful.
She looked as if she were going to cry.
"Kate?"
Couldn't she see that this was excessive … maybe self-destructive even? Why did Kate want it to hurt?
They had been at it all night and gradually their lovemaking had changed and turned into something else … her demands were different, insatiable in a way that made him feel like the love that they shared was maybe too much.
Tears streaked down her face, and with a tiny shuddering cry, she let out, "I need this, Jack."
He rolled off of her and gently wrapped his arm around her waist, placing a strong comforting pressure meant to console and let her know that everything was okay.
Spooning her, he murmured into her ear, "Not like this Kate." Their heartbeats eventually steadied out and Kate announced, "I'm hungry."
Jack was halfway to the nearby bagel place. He stopped at a quiet looking bench, sat down and dialed his phone now, finally ready to ask that question or rather ask for permission to ask that question.
Sam picked up.
Jack's mind was somewhere else and kept drifting in and out. He looked down at his watch, he was startled to see fifty minutes had passed since he left. He better get back with the food, Kate's class started in a half hour.
As he rounded the corner that led to Kate's street, he stopped dead in his tracks and felt the blood drain from his face. Why did his instinct pick up a lurching sense of doom? Juggling the paper bag containing their breakfast, this morning's New York Times and his phone, he dialed Kate.
"The number you are trying to reach is no longer in service…."
He dialed again and the same torturous electronic message played.
He ran. Ran faster than he thought his legs could carry him.
Breathless he reached the door to her apartment. Taped to its front was a note addressed to 'Jack'.
It was in her typical sloppy, almost illegible handwriting. She was so destined to be a doctor.
He was wilting.
My dearest Jack,
I love you. I love you. I love you. I can never say it or mean it enough.
I know you will want to stay and try to find me, but please don't. I've left for a little while and I want you to go back to L.A. where you belong and become the best neurosurgeon I know you can be.
I also want you to know that I believe you (from the bottom of my heart) - that nothing happened with Amy, so please don't think that this has anything to do with my trust in you.
But, I think we, "us", are just too much for me, Jack. For a couple of days, I thought you stopped loving me and that nearly killed me. It made me sick and weak in a way ... I know you understand how it feels. You know what loss feels like too.
I can't lose you. I wouldn't survive it. Please try to …
The words became blurry, Jack couldn't focus on them anymore, the vicious squeeze to his heart took his breath away. He winced from the pain and hunched over, the feeling of his blood pumping organ slowly being mashed and ground to chuck.
As Kate wrote that note, she knew that Jack would never understand that it was easier for her to let him go rather than have him stolen from her by some cruel fateful design. She just didn't have the strength to love him the way she did.
His face began to contort from the pain and tears began to flow freely. He reached into his pocket and took out the small velvet box.
He would give her some time, he would wait. Wait for her to come back to him.
A/N: So, here it is. Their breakup. I have to admit to getting very sad writing this one. I never wanted their separation to be melodramatic or gimmicky, like having one of them cheat. To me, their greatest obstacle, was always about timing. Kate being so young and emotionally not ready for the intensity and maturity of their relationship. And she has suffered so much loss in her short life. Her feelings for Jack simply overwhelmed and consumed her. So Kate does what she has always done for survival, self-preservation, retreat into herself or "run", if you will. And Jack is so vulnerable too. Kate opened his heart in a way that no other has. And they love each other in that forever, indelible sort of way. I love them.
I know some people were wary about the whole student/teacher 'thing', but I hope I was able to sell the idea and make it tasteful (as much as such an idea could be tasteful, that is).
And to those of you that have really cheered me on with this story when I nearly abandoned it (twice) and regularly left me reviews and kind notes, I am trying to come up with a special way to acknowledge and thank you as a sign of my appreciation. I think I want to PM you guys a sort of sneak peek or teaser for a new story concept that I am thinking about writing at some point (I can't promise to get it to you right away though). I'd love to get your thoughts on the idea.
I would so, so, so love to get your opinion of this chapter. This and the last one really took a lot out of me.
As for TTR, I am trying to get something out real soon. To be honest, The Walking Dead has been so darn awful lately, it is literally killing my creative inspiration (no pun intended) for TTR. TWD is making me sick to death of zombies and, well, it's hard to write a zombie FanFic without them ;). But, ForeverErica has been a stalwart supporter and is doing her best to soldier me on. Thank goodness the season ends next week and, hopefully, I can rekindle my TTR love.
And I can't underscore enough how much your enthusiasm with your reviews for TTR and this story make me want to write and write and write.
Besitos!