After I had screamed and cried we went back to silence. I was staring down at the floor as Jack refilled my wine glass. “You know, I think it was going to be a boy.” I said. Jack stopped and looked at me quizzically. “I haven’t told anyone this, but since it happened, I’ve been thinking about it. I think it was a boy. I wonder who he might have been, what he would look like…” I stopped talking as tears once again began to fall down my face. Jack sat down beside me and put his arms around me. He didn’t speak, he just let me cry.
As the night wore on and the wine flowed, we spent a strange but necessary evening together. One moment we’d be telling each other stories about our family, our dogs, talking like we always did when we were close, and then the conversation would somehow lead back to one of the many things standing in our way. Tessa. “How much does she know?” I asked.
“I told her.” Jack replied. HE WHAT?! “I was drunk and confused about everything, I felt like she needed to know.” I stared at him, horrified. I was mortified that Tessa knew something so personal about me, and that I didn’t even get a say in whether she knew or not.
“How could you tell her without asking me or talking to me about it first?!” I exclaimed. Once again, his selfish, thoughtless, personality floated to the surface.
“I…it just came out, I was drunk. I’m sorry.” he replied, sheepishly. I tried to be angry with him. And I was, but I was running out of energy. I had spent the entire evening being angry and upset with him and with every glass of wine I drank I realised how much I had missed his company. His light-hearted, easy going conversation that made me feel so at home. I knew that this night, this time spent together talking out the good and the bad, was the last one there would be. We weren’t the same anymore, the relationship we had was gone, and we both knew it. I couldn’t be friends with him anymore, not like before, not if I wanted to make things better with Henry. Not while he and Tessa were together, not after everything that had happened between us. I knew it was over, and as ridiculous as it was, I was sad about it. I was sad that I was losing one of the best friends I had ever had – well, if we excluded the months of December and January.
For six months Jack was my best friend, and sometimes my lover, and despite all the pain he had put me through, and all the heartache he had caused me, and more importantly Henry, I would miss him. I know it seems stupid to still care about someone who treated me the way he did, but I’m human, and everyone can admit they’ve retained feelings for someone who broke their heart, can’t they?
We shared a bed that night for the last time. We didn’t even kiss, but he held me in his arms till he fell asleep. It didn’t feel sexual, or romantic, it felt like comfort. The kind of comfort I wished he had given me the day I told him I was pregnant, and every day since. I didn’t sleep a wink that night. I had so many thoughts running through my head, and part of me wondered if maybe the reason I was here, with so many strong feelings towards him, was because I was in love with Jack. Was that why I kept overlooking his wrong doings? Why I spent an entire night with him instead of just saying my piece and then leaving? Part of me was so desperate to stay in his life, for him to say he still wanted me. Why? Because I was in love with him? I didn’t know. All I know is that despite myself, despite everything I had learned about him in the recent weeks, I remember feeling heartbroken knowing that was the last night I would spend with him.