When we were first together and I was working hard to get my career going, I’d often bring work home for the night and then proceed to get a little stressed over finishing it on time. Jack would always calm me down. I’ve dated people who haven’t been happy when work took over my life and cut into my time with them. None of them handled it well, and fights were common. Jack was different. Not once did he ever carry on like those people. He just went with the flow and tried to find ways to support me. He always made things easier for me, exactly like he did yesterday, and like he’s doing today.
I watch him cook my breakfast. He looks happy. Like he doesn’t have a care in the world. He looks like he doesn’t want to be anywhere else but here.
There’s not only something different about Jack today; there’s something different about Jack full stop.
I’ve never known a completely sober Jack. When I met him, he drank a few times a week and smoked pot occasionally. He didn’t need to drink to make it through his days. He just liked alcohol and indulged in some heavy nights when he was out with friends. Having grown up with an alcoholic father, I had some concerns over how much Jack drank at times, but I didn’t want to fully acknowledge those concerns. I wanted to enjoy being young and in love, so I ignored what was happening.
Jack started drinking heavily after we broke up. I remember clearly the first social media post I saw that captured one of his famous binges. It wasn’t pretty. And while I was still in a world of pain over him, I felt sad for him. I felt sad that he was going down the path my father had spent years on.
I’ve watched him spiral deeper and deeper into his alcohol and drug addiction over the last six years, alongside his stubborn refusal to properly manage his bipolar disorder. I’ve also watched Ashton try to help him.
Jack has been dismissive of his problems. He hasn’t wanted to face them. Instead, he’s ignored them and found ways to carry on as if they don’t exist.
He’s made movie after movie, working his ass off to maintain the huge career he built.
He’s had his team come after him, sweeping up any mess he’s made.
He’s smiled and charmed his way through life.
The mask he’s worn has never slipped.
Until now.
The world has finally gotten a glimpse of the real Jack.
I didn’t think he wore the mask while we were together, but I’m wondering about that now. I’m beginning to think he maybe wore it occasionally, because this Jack I’m seeing now is a little different to the Jack I saw back then. Only slightly, but it’s enough of a difference for me to notice.
He’s lighter.
His easy ways seem even easier.
Mostly, though, he’s happier than I’ve ever seen him.
I see that in his eyes.
They’re brighter, more open, and when he smiles, they claim some of it.
“So, no waffles?” he says, cutting into my thoughts.
“I may want one, but I’ll need to see how I go with everything else first. I’ll let you know if I decide I do.” It’s important to keep the man on his toes.
He nods in agreement, and I ignore the amusement I’ve inspired in him.
A minute later, he brings our plates to the table and sits next to me. He’s cooked himself the same as what I requested, minus the yoghurt and fruit. He never did like yoghurt.
Olivia and Hazel have finished eating and are growing impatient to go outside and search for shapes in the sky. I know there’s no way they’ll sit here while Jack and I eat, so I stand to help them wash their hands and take them to watch television while they wait.
“I’ll do this,” Jack says, standing when I do. “You eat.”
“Jesus, Jack,” I grumble even though I know I’m being ungrateful. “Is this how today’s going to go? You’re going to trip over yourself to do everything for me?”
He gives me a look. The one that strongly says ‘Don’t argue with me, sweetheart’. He lets that look do all the work for him while he simply says, “Eat.” There’s nothing simple about that order, though. Not when it’s delivered with that look and that tone of his that even I know not to mess with.
I sit.
Jack scoops the girls up, one in each arm, using all those muscles I can never unsee, and takes them into the bathroom.
I hear the tap running. I hear the girls giggling. I hear Jack being fun with them in a very ovary-ruining way.
He then takes them into the lounge room and switches the television on for them.
By this point, I’m doing as directed and eating my breakfast.
I’m also madly scrambling my thoughts into some kind of order that might actually serve me today.
When he comes back to the table and sits with me, I throw out, “When and how did I get to bed last night?” This really is the most important thing I need to know right now.
He reaches for his knife and fork. “We both fell asleep on the couch. I took you to bed just after four.”
I must have been tired. The last thing I remember is him massaging my shoulders. Of course, he’d been right that a foot massage would help me get to sleep. After having to let him see he was right on that, I had no reason not to ask for a shoulder massage too.
“Did you sleep okay?”
“Yeah. I slept on the couch.”
I frown. “Why?” Mira made him a bed in the spare room. It would have been a lot comfier for him.
He smiles like he knows all the secrets I keep inside. “I was good on the couch, Jessica.”
I make a mental note to stop encouraging him by asking questions that reveal my concern for him. I do not want him smiling at me like that again today.
Wanting a change in subject, I say, “You should go visit your mum today.”
“Yeah, I was thinking I might head to the hospital after breakfast unless you’ve still got some work you need to do this morning.”
“No, I’m done. No work today. Ashton’s handling everything. You go whenever you want. Say hi to your mum for me.”
“She would have loved to see you.”
Bronwyn Kingsley is a beautiful soul who Jack takes after. God knows he doesn’t take after his father in any way, shape, or form. I shudder to think how he would have turned out if his mother hadn’t been around to raise him.
“I check in with her every now and then, and go visit her.”
“She tells me every time you do. She never got over losing you.” He pauses. “That seems to run in the family.”
My brain does some more scrambling, trying to get herself together. She needs to if I’m going to have any hope of surviving this man today. He’s certainly chosen the right day to begin his assault. I’m not running at full capacity after working so much yesterday and having my entire routine thrown out of whack today. I thrive on routine and when it’s out, I’m out. I should just send Jack to the hospital now and tell him not to return until six tonight.
Mira saves me when she sends a text. The way I quickly rush for my phone and subsequently fumble with it unleashes more of that smug smiling from Jack.
Mira: How’s your weekend going? Are you surviving?
Jessica: Surviving the girls, yes. Surviving Jack, no.
Mira: Ooh tell me more. Will is in the shower so I have all the time.
Jessica: Why are you not in the shower too? We clearly need to have a long talk about wedding anniversary weekends.