(no subject)
Chapter twenty-two
When Irina woke the next morning, lying spooned with Jack, skin to skin, everything felt so familiar that for a moment she forgot how much had changed. It was when she realized this was not their bedroom in LA, and that Sydney was not going to be running in any minute, that she knew things would never go back to the way they had been before. If the CIA found out what Jack had done, they would imprison him again. Sydney had already lost one parent; Irina would not let her lose the other.
Jack would argue, of course, but he would ultimately do what was best for Sydney. Irina believed that.
She rolled over to face her husband. Though he didn't yet know it, this was their last day together, and Irina wanted to make the most of it.
"Good morning," Jack mumbled against her neck.
"Yes. It is."
"Tell me we don't have to get out of bed today."
She smiled. "We don't have to get out of bed today."
"Good." His head disappeared beneath the covers, but Irina wasn't left to wonder too long at what he was up to. She burst out laughing when he blew a raspberry on her stomach.
"Jack!"
He pulled the blanket over them both, blocking out the rest of the world, and settled himself on top of her. Unrepentant, he said, "What?"
"You know that tickles."
"Really?" He grinned, then slid down her body again.
"Jack, don't-" She began to protest, but stopped when Jack kissed her instead. His tongue circled her belly button as he slipped one hand between her legs.
"Still want me to stop?"
"Ummm."
"I can't get enough of you."
I can't get enough of you.
Just like that, she was back in Kashmir. Cuvee, whispering in her ear that she had bewitched him, and he could make life easier for her if she would just co-operate with him. But she wouldn't; she would fight, every time.
She realized she wasn't shackled and decided to act. She kicked at the body on top of her; if she could get free, she could-
"Irina?"
Hands on her wrists. She bit down on his forearm, hard enough to draw blood, then scrambled out from underneath-
Jack.
She stared at him in horror. He didn't look angry, just confused, and concerned. Irina pulled the sheet from the bed and wrapped it around herself. Functioning purely on autopilot, she fetched the First Aid kit from the bathroom and sat next to Jack.
"What happened just now?" he asked.
She shook her head; if she spoke, she would cry, and she'd cried enough. She poured some antiseptic solution on a piece of cotton wool, then dabbed it on Jack's wound. Then she wrapped a bandage around it. When she was finished, Jack cupped her chin and forced her to look at him.
"It's okay."
"I'm sorry."
His gaze was questioning, but he was mercifully silent.
"Do you think - Could you just hold me?"
He traced her lips with his thumb. "I have a better idea."
"Jack, I don't think right now-"
"Not that." He fetched a shoebox from his bag and held it out for Irina to take. "I was going to wait until tonight to give you this, but I think you need it now."
She accepted the gift and slowly lifted the lid, then looked at Jack.
"Sydney and I built this little post box; we keep it next to your bookshelf. Every Sunday Sydney writes you a letter, telling you about her week." He sat next to her. "It was Emily's idea. She thought it might help Sydney to deal with everything."
"I can't believe it's been a year." Irina leaned against Jack. "I miss her so much."
"She misses you too. So do I."
"Jack, I-" She couldn't do it; couldn't tell him to let go and move on. She didn't want him to leave. She wanted Sydney with her, and she wanted Nadia alive. She pushed the box at Jack. "Will you read them to me?"
"Of course." He picked up one of the letters and opened it. "'Dear Mommy. Me and Daddy went to the carousel. Lucy says angels can see us from heaven. Were you watching us Mommy? There was a funny lady there. But don't worry. She's not Daddy's girlfriend. Daddy says he doesn't want a girlfriend. I know 'cause I asked him. I wish you could come back Mommy. I know heaven's real nice but I miss you. Sometimes I'm scared that Daddy's going to go to work and not come back, like you. But I think you're his guardian angel. So you won't let that happen. Right Mommy? Love Sydney.'"
Irina took the letter from Jack and traced her daughter's words. Sydney was still hurting, but she was healing. She was probably better off than either of her parents.
"Jack, I want you to be happy. I want - I want you to move on with your life." She swallowed past the lump in her throat. "You should get married again. Sydney needs a mother-"
"I already have a wife. She already has a mother."
Her hands shook as she folded the letter and returned it to the box. "We could divorce. You'd be free."
Jack pulled her into his arms; the box tumbled from his lap, spilling letters onto the floor. "I don't want a divorce. I want you."
"You took an incredible risk coming here. You can't do it again, Jack. We can never meet again."
Jack sighed. "Are you Russians always so fatalistic?"
She looked at him, and registered the lack of surprise in his expression. He'd anticipated this, she thought. He was convinced everything would work out, and in that moment, she believed him.
"Yes." She laughed, then kissed him.
Jack held her closer. "I love you. I want you. Only you. We'll figure this out, sweetheart. I promise."
Irina pulled away after a while, and smiled. "Will you read me another letter?"
* * *
Jack and Irina stood on the porch, neither sure what to say. Jack decided he didn't need words, and pulled Irina into a hug, holding her as tight as he dared. He wasn't ready to leave yet, but he knew there was no way he could stay longer. Sydney needed him, and he needed to convince the CIA that he was dutifully carrying out his orders regarding Project Christmas.
"I love you," Irina whispered.
It was easy to pretend he was only going away on a short trip, and that they would see each other again soon. "Love you, too."
They kissed again, and then Jack picked up his bag and walked over to the car where Andrei was waiting to drive him to the airport. He and Irina had agreed it was better to part at the house, and as Andrei drove away, Jack looked back at her. She was still on the porch, her hands gripping the railing, and Jack held the image of her in his mind until long after she was out of sight.
"I think, in another life, we could have been friends," Andrei said.
Jack gave a weak smile. "Look after her for me."
Andrei nodded.
Two hours later, as Jack's flight took off, he discovered the letter Irina had slipped into his pocket.
My darling Jack, I had to write this because I knew I didn't have the courage to say it aloud. Not again, not without giving in and believing there is a chance for us. Forgive me, love. I want you to come back to me. I want to believe that we can be a family again. But we can't. It's too dangerous. Think about what would happen to Sydney if you were caught; she would lose her mother again, and she'd lose her father too. Let me go, Jack. You and Sydney can be happy again, I know that. I know you'll do what's best for her. Don't worry about me; I'll be fine. For the first time in months I feel alive again. Thank you. Look after our little girl, and never let her forget how much I love her. Maybe one day the world will be different and we can find our way back to each other. All my love. I.
Jack stared at the note, reading it over and over until he knew it by heart. Then he went to the restroom and tore it into tiny pieces and threw it into the toilet bowl. Bracing his hands on the sink area, he hunched forward and wept.
When Irina woke the next morning, lying spooned with Jack, skin to skin, everything felt so familiar that for a moment she forgot how much had changed. It was when she realized this was not their bedroom in LA, and that Sydney was not going to be running in any minute, that she knew things would never go back to the way they had been before. If the CIA found out what Jack had done, they would imprison him again. Sydney had already lost one parent; Irina would not let her lose the other.
Jack would argue, of course, but he would ultimately do what was best for Sydney. Irina believed that.
She rolled over to face her husband. Though he didn't yet know it, this was their last day together, and Irina wanted to make the most of it.
"Good morning," Jack mumbled against her neck.
"Yes. It is."
"Tell me we don't have to get out of bed today."
She smiled. "We don't have to get out of bed today."
"Good." His head disappeared beneath the covers, but Irina wasn't left to wonder too long at what he was up to. She burst out laughing when he blew a raspberry on her stomach.
"Jack!"
He pulled the blanket over them both, blocking out the rest of the world, and settled himself on top of her. Unrepentant, he said, "What?"
"You know that tickles."
"Really?" He grinned, then slid down her body again.
"Jack, don't-" She began to protest, but stopped when Jack kissed her instead. His tongue circled her belly button as he slipped one hand between her legs.
"Still want me to stop?"
"Ummm."
"I can't get enough of you."
I can't get enough of you.
Just like that, she was back in Kashmir. Cuvee, whispering in her ear that she had bewitched him, and he could make life easier for her if she would just co-operate with him. But she wouldn't; she would fight, every time.
She realized she wasn't shackled and decided to act. She kicked at the body on top of her; if she could get free, she could-
"Irina?"
Hands on her wrists. She bit down on his forearm, hard enough to draw blood, then scrambled out from underneath-
Jack.
She stared at him in horror. He didn't look angry, just confused, and concerned. Irina pulled the sheet from the bed and wrapped it around herself. Functioning purely on autopilot, she fetched the First Aid kit from the bathroom and sat next to Jack.
"What happened just now?" he asked.
She shook her head; if she spoke, she would cry, and she'd cried enough. She poured some antiseptic solution on a piece of cotton wool, then dabbed it on Jack's wound. Then she wrapped a bandage around it. When she was finished, Jack cupped her chin and forced her to look at him.
"It's okay."
"I'm sorry."
His gaze was questioning, but he was mercifully silent.
"Do you think - Could you just hold me?"
He traced her lips with his thumb. "I have a better idea."
"Jack, I don't think right now-"
"Not that." He fetched a shoebox from his bag and held it out for Irina to take. "I was going to wait until tonight to give you this, but I think you need it now."
She accepted the gift and slowly lifted the lid, then looked at Jack.
"Sydney and I built this little post box; we keep it next to your bookshelf. Every Sunday Sydney writes you a letter, telling you about her week." He sat next to her. "It was Emily's idea. She thought it might help Sydney to deal with everything."
"I can't believe it's been a year." Irina leaned against Jack. "I miss her so much."
"She misses you too. So do I."
"Jack, I-" She couldn't do it; couldn't tell him to let go and move on. She didn't want him to leave. She wanted Sydney with her, and she wanted Nadia alive. She pushed the box at Jack. "Will you read them to me?"
"Of course." He picked up one of the letters and opened it. "'Dear Mommy. Me and Daddy went to the carousel. Lucy says angels can see us from heaven. Were you watching us Mommy? There was a funny lady there. But don't worry. She's not Daddy's girlfriend. Daddy says he doesn't want a girlfriend. I know 'cause I asked him. I wish you could come back Mommy. I know heaven's real nice but I miss you. Sometimes I'm scared that Daddy's going to go to work and not come back, like you. But I think you're his guardian angel. So you won't let that happen. Right Mommy? Love Sydney.'"
Irina took the letter from Jack and traced her daughter's words. Sydney was still hurting, but she was healing. She was probably better off than either of her parents.
"Jack, I want you to be happy. I want - I want you to move on with your life." She swallowed past the lump in her throat. "You should get married again. Sydney needs a mother-"
"I already have a wife. She already has a mother."
Her hands shook as she folded the letter and returned it to the box. "We could divorce. You'd be free."
Jack pulled her into his arms; the box tumbled from his lap, spilling letters onto the floor. "I don't want a divorce. I want you."
"You took an incredible risk coming here. You can't do it again, Jack. We can never meet again."
Jack sighed. "Are you Russians always so fatalistic?"
She looked at him, and registered the lack of surprise in his expression. He'd anticipated this, she thought. He was convinced everything would work out, and in that moment, she believed him.
"Yes." She laughed, then kissed him.
Jack held her closer. "I love you. I want you. Only you. We'll figure this out, sweetheart. I promise."
Irina pulled away after a while, and smiled. "Will you read me another letter?"
* * *
Jack and Irina stood on the porch, neither sure what to say. Jack decided he didn't need words, and pulled Irina into a hug, holding her as tight as he dared. He wasn't ready to leave yet, but he knew there was no way he could stay longer. Sydney needed him, and he needed to convince the CIA that he was dutifully carrying out his orders regarding Project Christmas.
"I love you," Irina whispered.
It was easy to pretend he was only going away on a short trip, and that they would see each other again soon. "Love you, too."
They kissed again, and then Jack picked up his bag and walked over to the car where Andrei was waiting to drive him to the airport. He and Irina had agreed it was better to part at the house, and as Andrei drove away, Jack looked back at her. She was still on the porch, her hands gripping the railing, and Jack held the image of her in his mind until long after she was out of sight.
"I think, in another life, we could have been friends," Andrei said.
Jack gave a weak smile. "Look after her for me."
Andrei nodded.
Two hours later, as Jack's flight took off, he discovered the letter Irina had slipped into his pocket.
My darling Jack, I had to write this because I knew I didn't have the courage to say it aloud. Not again, not without giving in and believing there is a chance for us. Forgive me, love. I want you to come back to me. I want to believe that we can be a family again. But we can't. It's too dangerous. Think about what would happen to Sydney if you were caught; she would lose her mother again, and she'd lose her father too. Let me go, Jack. You and Sydney can be happy again, I know that. I know you'll do what's best for her. Don't worry about me; I'll be fine. For the first time in months I feel alive again. Thank you. Look after our little girl, and never let her forget how much I love her. Maybe one day the world will be different and we can find our way back to each other. All my love. I.
Jack stared at the note, reading it over and over until he knew it by heart. Then he went to the restroom and tore it into tiny pieces and threw it into the toilet bowl. Bracing his hands on the sink area, he hunched forward and wept.