I couldn't believe how bad my luck with cell phones had been. Honestly, I had gone for years with my first cell phone, never having any issues or breaking it. Now, I'd smashed two in two months. It wasn't entirely my fault, however. I wasn't as much of a klutz as I was making myself out to be.
After so much potent introspection, weeping came easily, and Jack comforted me, holding me in his arms. "Just cry," he whispered. "I'm here for you. Always."
"Shut up," I complained. "You're too perfect and it's just making me cry more."
He handed me a wad of tissues and groaned as he stood up from the bed. "God, I'm so sore. Everything hurts."
After he said it, I realized how sore I was as well. It felt like I had been through a very rough and competitive boxing match. "I need painkillers," I said. "We need to go to a pharmacy." My head was throbbing slowly with my heartbeat. The doctor had given me a prescription last night, but after all the drugs at the hospital, I had been set to make it through the night.
"I already took care of it," he said with a smile. He tossed a bottle of pills to me. "Don't get addicted to these now. Vicodin is serious stuff."
I greedily dumped one onto my tongue and swallowed it with water. "Oh, God, thanks again." Medicinal relief couldn't come soon enough.
"It's nothing. Every fucking second with you is worth it." I guess we were both being a little extra dramatic and verbose after such a terrible event.
I smiled, picked up my phone, and started dialing, feeling extra brave after hearing Jack's powerful words—and then my calm failed the second I heard my mom's voice. "I almost got raped and murdered and I'm okay and I swear I'm all right and my boyfriend, Jack, saved me!" A flood of tears soaked the sheet as I reflexively used it instead of the giant pile of tissues to my right.
Unsurprisingly, they booked a flight and were on a plane to NYC the next morning—and I would have to introduce them to the man of my dreams, face to face. I think I subconsciously made the call because I knew this would be the end result. I couldn't hide anymore. I would peel off every layer, every bit of mask that I had hidden behind.
I hated that I had so much to tell them, so many details that hadn't arisen at all due to the distance I had created between us. And not so much the physical distance as the emotional distance. I had taken their advice and come to New York, but I guess I had hidden myself upon arrival, trying to make it on my own without relying on them for support, emotionally, financially, or otherwise. I hadn't gone home at all, even though they would have paid for the plane ticket.
They obviously knew about my breakup with Timothy, but they didn't know about his moving here and attacking me. Yeah, I would have hours of conversation already queued up in my head before we even said hello.
This was my world now, a world that was becoming clearer all the time. They needed to be part of it, needed to be a part of Jack and me, because it wasn't about to end anytime soon.
Jack insisted upon meeting them at the airport in a limo. It was ridiculous, but at the very least, they'd get a kick out of it. We drove slowly to JFK, dressed in casual clothes as we sat in the back of Jack's regular method of luxury transportation. No champagne today, and I was okay with that. I didn't want to be drunk when they arrived.
My mom had called me to inform me that they were waiting outside the arrivals area as we pulled into the airport. I told her we'd pick her up, and when she asked what we were driving, I just told her that she'd know when she saw it. I giggled to myself after hanging up the phone, amused at the surprise I was harboring.
"What?" Jack asked.
"Try not to be too charming," I said jokingly.
"You're terrible," he complained. "I can't just turn it off!"
I kissed him deeply, my tongue darting into his mouth. "I love you," I said post-kiss. "I can't believe the shit we've been through lately."
"No kidding," he said, lightly stroking my hair. The midday sun was glowing on his