"A lot of things I would want to do if you were my woman. I would like to always hold you dear to me, bench you over the kitchen table and fuck you so good."
Her dingy countenance prompted the loud ripples of laughter that left Jackson's mouth.
"You don't want that, do you?" He asked when her lips were tied and she could barely give a response. She didn’t expect such a nasty response from him.
She loved that he was smooth and she was so tempted to go with the flow of the moment but she couldn't, thoughts of Callan clouded her thinking.
She thought she wanted to be far from him, but with Jackson right in front of her, uttering those dirty words to her, she knew she didn't appreciate those things coming from someone else.
"Hmm, what do you mean by 'On Days Like This' can you…"
"I see what you did there, you don't want me to have nasty talks with you. I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable." He put out the light on the cigarette and set it aside. "I didn't mean to do that, huh?"
"Do you want to talk about this?"
"Just this night, I lost a patient who had been battling with leukemia for five years. She was the first patient assigned to me when I got here, but today, death won. But at least, maybe she's resting."
"I am sorry. I hope she rests well."
"Yeah, that would be her only consolation."
The Duchenne smile that had slipped out of his face was now back, stretching his full face in its full form. He looked back at Orla, steadying his gaze at her.
"Is there something more to just coming here to get inspiration for your project?"
"No...what makes you think so?" She asked after a brief pause, giving him the same suspicious looks he almost killed her with.
"Why do I feel there is something more? Is everything alright at home?"
Orla shrugged her shoulders with a bored expression.
At that point, she thought she would feel better if she stopped bottling up her feelings, anger and pain. Maybe she would feel better if she talked to someone about what happened, but she didn't want to put their matter out there, she wanted it to stay within them.
"Do you have a partner?" She asked, smiling.
"Why? Do you want to be my partner? I thought you were married."
"Oh, no," she gave his shoulder a small whack. "Do you have a wife or a girlfriend?"
"Well, I used to but not anymore..." The words stayed longer than they should have before they dropped.
His face suddenly fell as he hugged his arms to his body. "She's no longer here and I regret it. Maybe I should have forgiven her when she had begged. If only I wasn't so selfish, if only I had listened when she told me it was a mistake if only I had accepted her back. Maybe then she'd still be here and we'd be together right now."
"What," Orla was disturbed. "What happened between you two?"
"Orla." Jackson smiled sadly. "It's not something you want to know about. Let's talk about something else."
"I want to know, Jackson. I insist."
"Oh,"
"Jackson, are you alright?" She touched his arms, turning his face to her. "What's wrong with you?"
"Orla. I lost her because I was unforgiving. She was sorry, but I let my emotions get the best of me. I watched her suffer. I let her take those pills that took her life and when she called me to save her, I couldn't do anything. I watched her die in my arms because she said she'd rather die than live this life without me. I couldn't forgive her for her mistake and she took her own life because of that. What more do you want to know?"
She shifted uncomfortably in her seat. His story just stirred up something inside of her. What if Callan did something bad to himself? She wouldn't live with herself, she would be miserable to death. She couldn't take that.
"What was her offence?" Orla asked, almost breathing hard.
"She slept with my best friend in my house. I burst into them and lost it. It was heart-wrenching but I never wanted her to take her own life. I loved her!"
That was it! She cheated too! Cheating!
"Do you regret not forgiving her?"
"I do, the guilt haunts me every day of my life. I should have forgiven her when she needed me to." Sighing, he lit up the cigarette again and took a drag.
"Don't blame yourself." Tears welled up in her eyes. "I wish she didn't die too, but don't blame yourself. You didn't know she was going to hurt herself."
"And since then, I advise couples not to stay mad at their partners forever."
"What if he cheats on you and you're so hurt you can't even stare into his eyes without feeling the pain? What, what..." She burst into tears, leaving Jackson surprised.
"Hey, what's wrong with you?" He tried to hold her but she pulled away from him, sobbing so hard.
Jackson watched her cry for minutes, letting her express her feelings through her flowing tears. After a while, he offered her a handkerchief.
"Thank you," dabbing her face, she rested back on the chair and watched as evening flowed into night.
"Do you want to talk about it?"
"I don't think I should. I was just so stupid for crying so much," she giggled, but Jackson didn't fall for that.
He was certain something was wrong with her.
"Did Mr Barlowe hurt you? Oh, if he did, let him know other men out there wouldn't think twice before making you theirs and I am one of those men. So, did he hurt you?'
She nodded in response.
"He did? Gosh! I need to punch his face right now." He fumed with anger.