What the Heart Desires

by Jaime Derelle

  Jack cupped her face with his hand and kissed her tenderly, reveling in the honeyed sweetness of her lips. He teased her lip with his tongue before pulling away. “What do you say we head out of here and go for a walk? There is a park across the street we can take a stroll in.”

  “That sounds lovely, Jack, let me just freshen up before we go,” Sandra said as she scooted out from her seat and went to the loo.

  In the ladies room, Sandra placed her hands on the counter, leaning into the mirror, “What are you going to do?” she asked herself, “Are you going to tell the truth and risk losing everything? Or try living a lie potentially forever?”

  She knew what she had to do. She put on a little lip gloss, and went back out to meet Jack. She took his arm as they left to take their walk in the park, preparing herself for what she was about to do.

  Jack was smiling from ear to ear as they strolled into the park at a leisurely pace. The path was well lit, and her red hair shone in the light cast by the lanterns. He was smitten, again.

  They walked in silence, he basking in the new found love he had found and she was trying to come up with the kindest, most gentle way to tell him the truth. Finally, Sandra broke the silence, “Jack, could we sit for a minute? My heels are bothering me just a touch and a rest would do me well so we can continue.”

  “Of course! I hadn't thought of that before, my apologies, Sandra...” Jack led her over to a bench that liked the path and they sat, facing one another, holding hands. “Would you like a foot rub? I've been told I am a master at it,” Jack asked smiling, just wanting to make her happy.

  “No, that's okay, they don't hurt that much. I am just not used to wearing them out,” said Sandra, casting her eyes down and taking a deep breath. “I do need to talk to you about something though...”

  “You can tell me anything, my dear, and I am all ears,” Jack said, kissing her hands.

  “There is no easy way to say this, Jack, no kind words or gentle way to tell you, so I am just going to say it. But you need to give me the chance to tell you the whole story, okay?” Sandra asked, with a hint of fear in her voice.

  Jack looked at her curiously, tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear, “Sweetheart, whatever you have to tell me, it's okay. I will listen and help you in anyway I can.”

  Sandra took a deep breath and exhaled, “I killed your girlfriend, Jack. I killed Madeline.”

  Part 4: Heartbroken

  Jack just stared at Sandra as his mind raced back in time. He remembered being at the hospital pacing, waiting for news about Madeline and repeatedly going up to the nurses station. Gasping, he recalled the last time he went up before hearing the news that forever changed the course of his life. Sandra was there. She was the redhead at the nurses station, looking as frantic as he felt.

  Coming back to the moment, he looked at Sandra with fresh eyes. “You were there. I remember seeing you, panicking at the nurses station. Why? Why were you there?”

  Sandra had waited patiently for him to process her deeply buried, dark secret. Now, she prayed he would listen and understand because she couldn't bear to lose him. “I had received a call that my mother had a heart attack. Her condition was critical, touch and go. With a three hour drive to get to her, I drove like the devil without care for speed limits. I just knew I had to get to her before I lost her.”

  Jack listened in silence, the old familiar pain creeping into his heart.

  Sandra continued, “I was getting tired with having little sleep the night before, and when I got into the city, I was careless and focused on getting to my mother as quickly as I could. I know it doesn't excuse my actions, but I had to get to my mom.”

  Jack closed his eyes, the pain of losing Madeline as fresh in his mind as it was a year ago.

  “When I was about a mile from the hospital, I was at a series of lights trying to hit each one while they were green. The last one had turned yellow... I punched the gas trying to make it through,” Sandra took a deep breath as her voice began to shake. “She came out of no where, and before I knew it, I hit her.” Her voice cracked and Jack opened his eyes to look at her. Both of them had tears streaming down their cheeks.

  “I was scared, horrified at what I had done... I sped off. I didn't know what to do,” overwhelmed with guilt, she began crying. Jack was enveloped in the heart wrenching pain of losing his love, erasing all the healing he had gone through over the course of the last year.

  It was like Jack walked out onto the thinly frozen lake and crashed through the surface, landing in the icy cold depths, sorrow soaking him to his bones.

  “Between the emotions about my mom swirling in my mind, combined with the horror and shock at what I had done, I lost track of where I was going and got lost. When I finally got to the hospital, I race in completely panicked about my mom, and about the woman I had hit, who I learned was Madeline.”

  She wiped the tears from her cheeks, taking a few deep breaths before continuing, “I saw you at the nurse's station and I instinctively knew. The look on your face, the heartbreak in your eyes... I asked the nurse, without letting her know it was me that hit Madeline, what had happened and if you were her husband.”

  Hearing her refer to him as Melly's husband nearly broke him. He waited too long to ask her to marry him, something he wanted more than anything else in the whole world.

  “I watched you... for months. I left my job in Jersey and managed to find one here in London. I came here to make sure you were okay because I couldn't bear that I caused you such pain. Having taken a position as a grief counselor, it has helped me work through my own issues and when you joined the group, as I had hoped you would, it gave me the indiscreet opportunity to help you.”

  “So this was all your grand plan? You kill the love of my life and then stalk me, try to insert yourself into my life? You really are psychotic,” he said venomously. He stood up, in a rage with anger rolling off him in palpable waves.

  “You ruined my life! You killed the one woman I have loved more deeply than anyone else in this entire world. You fucked up, and Madeline paid the price for it!” He stormed back and forth in front of her, willing himself not to tear her limb from limb. Sandra sat there, eyes cast down and tears falling as his rage crashed over her.

  “Do you have any idea, even a granule of an idea, of how much pain and suffering I have gone through over the last year? How much it took me to be willing to risk my heart for a second time? And on you! The woman who KILLED MY LOVE!” Sandra flinched as he raised his hand to hit her.

  Jack let out a loud primal scream, echoing in the dark night. “As much as I want to hit you, tear you apart, I was raised better than that. And I recognize that there would be consequences to my action that I just don't want to have to face. Too bad you missed that lesson in school.” With that, Jack stalked away from her, leaving Sandra crying on the bench.

  Jack slammed the door to his apartment, anger burning in his blood. How dare Sandra do that to him!How blind could he be to her plot, her devious plan. Jack poured himself three fingers of scotch and sat on the couch. At least he now knew the truth about what happened to Madeline.

  The pain rocked him hard, as though his very bones were shaking inside his body. Tears began pouring down his face as he lamented that she never had the chance to become a wife, his wife nor realize her dream to be mother.

  Madeline was sitting cross-legged on the bed, wearing only a long nightshirt. She looked so casually beautiful, thought Jack. She was talking about her day, having spent it with her goddaughter and best friend. They had gone on a shopping spree, stopping for ice cream and was regaling him with a tale about Katie and her strawberry ice cream cone.

  “Before we realized, it was all over her face, hands and arms! It was such a mess, but her smile was worth every minute of cleaning her up,” Madeline said laughing.

  Jack smiled and cocked his head as he watched her. Madeline paused and said, “What? Tell me what you are thinking...”

  “I am think
ing that someday you are going to make an amazing mother,” Jack said climbing onto the bed to give her a soft, tender kiss.

  Madeline blushed and smiled, returning his kiss, “I hope so, Jack. There is nothing I want more. If we have a girl, we can name her Sophia Elizabeth and if it's a boy... Leopold Carter, after his daddy.”

  Leo's heart filled with love and pride at the thought, “You are the most amazing woman I have ever met, Madeline.” He pulled her into his arms and kissed her deeply as he gently guided her down to the bed.

  He took a swig of his scotch, feeling the burn down his throat, trying to burn away the pain. Every memory he had of Madeline was perfect. And each one felt like a searing blade slicing across his heart, shredding it to ribbons.

  He thought he was over her, that he was past this all consuming pain. Apparently he was wrong. He went back to the kitchen to pour himself another scotch. Glancing at the fridge as he walked by, he spied Dr. Michael Brighton's card with his cell phone number written on it and the words “Anytime.” He should call Michael. He would know what to do.

  Jack grabbed the bottle of scotch and his phone. Setting both on the coffee table, he was struck by the irony of the situation. Even though it was all constructed by Sandra, who falls in love with the woman who kills your true love? It sounded like Fatal Attraction, Part 2. Though the whole thing was brought about by an accident, he didn't want to relieve Sandra of any blame. It was all her fault, her carelessness caused Melly's death.

  Tossing back another shot of scotch, he decided he would wait until tomorrow to call Michael. It was close to midnight and he didn't want to bother the good doctor. He would just drink himself until he was numb before crashing for the night, thinking of Madeline.

  Sandra collected herself and walked through the park after Jack left. She berated herself for not telling him sooner but she didn't see how else she could have done it without losing everything. He loved her, she was certain of that, down to the very core of her soul. She never intended to fall in love with him. She just wanted to help him move on with his life, since she was the cause of his loss.

  Guilt is a powerful emotion. Sandra tried to turn it into something productive. After the accident, seeing Jack devastated over losing the love of his life, she was shaken to the point of needing to take action. Was it out of guilt? Sandra had to be honest with herself. Yes, assuaging her guilt was her motive but at the time, she convinced herself her motivation was pure. She just wanted to be of service, to help a man through the grieving process.

  She came to the end of the park and hailed a taxi. She was tired and her feet hurt. The pain in her feet couldn't compare to the hurt she felt in her heart. It was all her fault. Everything from the accident, to Jack falling in love with her. If she hadn't meddled, if she had just stayed in New York and not come to England, Jack would have eventually moved on. He had friends, a support system that would have pulled him through the grief and back to living life.

  Sandra closed the door to her apartment and slid to the floor. Rib-racking sobs made her whole body shake as waves of guilt and heartbreak crashed over her. What was she going to do now?

  Jack awoke with a smashing headache, desperate for water and something to cure this hangover from hell. As he chugged a huge glass of water, he took note of the empty scotch bottle on the coffee table, next to it was his phone and Dr. Brighton's card. It was almost noon, and Jack decided food had to come first before calling his psychiatrist.

  He showered and dressed in fresh, clean clothes and taking care to grab his sunglasses. The sun hurt his head and today was a rare sunny day in Hackney. He ambled over to his favorite spot, Nana's, for some greasy hangover cure. Jack knew his behavior last night could lead to a massive downward spiral if he didn't get a grip on it fast enough. Been there, done that he thought.

  As he nibbled on his bangers and mashed, he thought about Sandra. He was angry and hurt but what upset him the most was the complete reliving of what had happened to Madeline. Why did she have to tell him? He wouldn't have ever found out the truth, he had moved on with his life, putting the past where it belonged. Sandra dragged all those painful emotions back up to the forefront of his mind just as if it happened yesterday.

  And following him all the way across the ocean?? Was she some sort of psycho stalker type? Perhaps it was best that she told him, so he could get out of the relationship fast and without too much pain.

  Who was he kidding? He picked up his cell and dialed Dr. Brighton. Michael answered on the first ring.

  “Dr. Brighton speaking,” he answered.

  “Hey Michael, it's Jack.”

  “Jack! How are you? Are we still on for our appointment next Tuesday?” Michael sounded genuinely happy to hear from Jack.

  “Yeah, well, I was hoping you might have some time for me today,” Jack said tentatively.

  “Of course! Let me check my calendar. Is everything okay?”

  “Yeah, well, no, but I'm doing everything I can not to spiral out here,” Jack said, his voice cracking.

  Michael paused, “Why don't you come on over now? I can shift some things around and we can have a couple of hours for you to catch me up on whatever it is that has you on the edge.”

  “Thanks, Michael. I'll be there in twenty minutes,” Jack said gratefully.

  As Jack hailed a cab, across town Sandra was doing her best to continue on with her regular routine, while trying to decide what was going to be best for her in the long run. Should she stay in England? She loved her therapy group, and had become quite fond of her patients. Other than that, she had no reason to stay here now. Was it enough of a reason?

  Jack arrived at Michael's office, calling Mark on the way over to tell him he would need a few days off. Of course, Mark panicked and asked a million questions, fearing his dear friend and colleague was about to take a dive off a cliff. Jack reassured him that he was fine and just needed a few days to process some 'recent issues'. Mark made him promise to call everyday to check in, even if it was just to confirm he was alive.

  Michael opened his office door and immediately smelled the stale scotch on Jack. “Blimey, did you soak in a vat of scotch last night?”

  Jack ducked into the office, head hanging shamefully, “I wish all I did was soak, but my head tells me I drank a vat of the stuff.”

  Michael looked at Jack with concern, knowing his drinking had been out of control just after Melly's death. He waited patiently to let Jack tell him exactly what was going on.

  “Thank you for fitting me in today, Michael. I really do appreciate it.”

  “I told you before Jack, anytime you need, you can call me. I've taken a shine to you and your situation,” replied Michael as he sat on the edge of his desk.

  “Yeah, I almost called you at midnight, and probably should have but the scotch told me not to,” Jack chuckled nervously, afraid to dig up all the emotions from last night, and last year.

  “Why don't you clue me into what triggered your need to call me, which by the way, you should have as I was just binge watching BBC crime shows,” joked Michael.

  “Poor bastard, maybe you should have had some scotch with me,” teased Jack, teetering on spilling the whole story. Michael chuckled and waited in silence. This was a trick Jack was familiar with; since most people feel compelled to fill silence, Michael used it to get them to start talking about whatever is bothering them.

  “Okay, so I told you about Sandra... and how I was really beginning to have strong feelings for her.” Michael nodded, still remaining quiet.

  “Well, we went out for dinner last night, and it was magical... right up to the walk in the park when she sat me down and told me she killed Madeline.”

  “Wait, what did you just say?” Michael said, hoping he just misheard Jack.

  “Sandra sat me down on a bench in the park and told me how she was the driver who killed Madeline, back in New York,” Leo's voice cracked at Melly's name. The pain was rising again, emanating from his soul.

  “A
h shit, Jack, did she tell you what happened and why the hell she is here in England?”

  “Oh yeah, that's the creepy part,” Jack was thankful he could steer away from the accident details and let the anger come through about Anya's grand scheme. “She saw me at the hospital, back in New York,” he said, avoiding Melly's name, “She realized how devastated I was and being a counselor or social worker, whatever the hell she was or is, followed me back to England to 'make sure I was okay' and to 'help me with the grieving process'. Is it just me, or is she fucking crazy?”

  Michael let out a big sigh, “It's tough, Jack. What did she tell you about the support group, or how she got your information, I mean, she must have done some serious research?”

  “Exactly, she didn't get into details, and frankly, I was too horrified and upset to ask many questions, but essentially she found a group near me, knowing I would be needing grief counseling and waited patiently, like a fucking spider in a web.”

  Michael sat quietly, processing everything Jack was telling him. Being a psychiatrist and having gone through his own loss, he could somewhat relate to Sandra in ways Jack couldn't. “I understand your feelings toward Sandra, believe me. And were I in your shoes, I would probably be feeling the same anger you clearly do. But why are you so angry? Is it really at Sandra?”

  “Are you serious?? Yes!!! She KILLED Madeline!” With that, Jack lost it. All the memories, the pain, the gaping empty hole in his heart where Madeline used to be was sucking him right in, he sobbed as hard as he did when he first lost the love of his life.

  Michael stood up, putting a comforting hand on his shoulder and let him release all the pain. He knew the only way to turn Jack around was to get him to see things from Anya's perspective and he wasn't even sure if that was possible.