Just Jayne

by Ripley Proserpina

  How could you do this to me? They had promised me they loved me. But this wasn’t love. Granted, I had no experience with that emotion, but I never would have done this to them.

  I’d been an open book, spilled my guts and laid my history bare. For what?

  Nothing.

  I had nothing.

  I was nothing.

  I didn’t know when I fell asleep. It snuck up on me quickly, and the next thing I knew, someone had turned on the overhead light.

  “Good,” Rivers said. “I’m glad you slept. I was afraid you’d try to go to the embassy.”

  “I thought about it,” I answered. My voice was hoarse, and I cleared my throat. “But I barely made it to the bathroom and back, so navigating through an unfamiliar city seemed like a bad idea.”

  He chuckled and shook his head. Sitting next to me, he held the back of the sofa and stared at me. His gaze studied me so intently that I shifted uneasily and tried to find another place to look. “Your eyes are clearer,” he said. “But you’re still flushed.” He pressed the back of his hand against my forehead and then my cheeks, and I jerked away. “Sorry.” His face flushed. “I wanted to see if you were warm.”

  “Oh,” I answered. He’s a doctor. “I feel better now, but earlier I think I was feverish.”

  “When was the last time you had a fever reducer?” he asked.

  What time had Charlotte left? And how long had I been sitting in the bathroom before I got back to the couch. “A while,” I answered, embarrassed. “I don’t remember.”

  He shook his head as he stood. “You have to take care of yourself if no one is here,” he chided. “I’d stay home to make sure you take the medicine, but I’m covering for another doctor.”

  The way he spoke made it sound like I was a child who couldn’t be trusted. “I’m sorry,” I said. “You don’t have to do that. I’ll be better about it, and I’ll be out of here as soon as possible.”

  I should have called the bank today. Why hadn’t I done that? I needed to get my head screwed on straight. I wasn’t this family’s responsibility, and I couldn’t sit here, depressed, while they waited on me hand and foot.

  “I didn’t mean—” He started and stopped, shaking his head. “I didn’t mean to make you feel as though you’re not welcome. I just want you to understand that you are very sick, Jayne. And you have to put yourself first.”

  To my horror, tears filled my eyes. I quickly looked away, wiped them, and nodded. When I thought I could speak without giving myself away, I said, “I understand.”

  Rivers sat back on the sofa. I plucked at a thread in the blanket, hoping he wouldn’t notice. “Jayne,” he said quietly. “You can trust me. If something happened, if you need help, I’ll help you.”

  More tears spilled out of my eyes and down my cheeks. A drop landed on the back of my hand. “Okay,” I answered, knowing full well I wouldn’t tell him everything. I couldn’t. For one, he wouldn’t understand. I barely understood it all.

  And there was something else. Something that occurred to me as Rivers told me he was someone I could trust: I could never tell anyone what had happened.

  It wasn’t right, but Bree was their secret, and I wasn’t going to broadcast what they’d done to the world. This would be my burden to bear, and only mine.

  “There are people in the world you can trust,” Rivers said quietly. “If you let yourself.”

  I’d tried that, and it’d blown up in my face. When I didn’t answer, he sighed and stood. “I’m going to make us soup. I imagine you haven’t eaten yet today?”

  I shook my head, but I wasn’t hungry. And I didn’t think I could swallow anything over the lump in my throat.

  “You need to eat,” he said. “Even if it’s just broth.”

  He went to the kitchen, and I pushed my blanket off to stand.

  “What are you doing?” he asked. He stared at me with narrowed eyes.

  “I was going to help.”

  He pointed the can opener at me and gestured for me to sit. “No. Sit. I’m perfectly capable of warming up a bowl of soup.”

  He was, and even though I couldn’t eat most of it, I did manage to get down enough that he approved. Rivers was a strange mix of disapproving and kindness. His moods shifted quickly. One moment, he was telling me to trust him, earnestness oozing out of him, and the next, he was watching me like I might rob and murder his family.

  With a full belly, my eyes started to close. I tried to stay awake, but I was fighting a losing battle and fell asleep.

  That first day set the pattern of my time with the Cynjins. Rivers and Ann worked their early shift at the hospital. I slept through their departure. Charlotte woke me up, I showered, took medicine, tried to eat, and fell asleep again.

  I’d never slept so much in my life, but Rivers assured me it was what my body needed.

  When I finally started to have more energy, I had a new battle to fight—not searching for the guys. I wanted to turn on the television to see if there was news of them, or search them online, but any time my fingers itched to do so, I tried to find something useful to do.

  Without enough stamina to leave the apartment, I took to cleaning small parts until I had to take a break. Mid-afternoon, I made tea in preparation for Rivers and Ann coming home and set aside something for Charlotte for later.

  When Rivers came home one day to find me in the kitchen, he glared at me. “You should be sleeping.”

  “I’ve slept so much,” I replied. I was getting used to his moods and knew he had more bark than bite. “I want to contribute.”

  He pushed off the doorframe where he stood with arms crossed to come into the kitchen. “What are you making?”

  “Frittata,” I said. “You had eggs and veggies.”

  “I’ve never heard of it.” He watched me cook, and when I finished, he ate what I’d made. His eyes widened after his first bite. “This is really good. Tell me ingredients you need and I’ll pick them up on my way home from work tomorrow.”

  “Actually,” I said, “I thought I might go out tomorrow. To the embassy—consulate.” I corrected myself. After doing some research, I knew exactly where I needed to go. “I have a map.”

  “Do you know how far it is?” he asked.

  “Three miles,” I said. “Give or take.” I’d walked that far before. It would take an hour or so, but I could do it.

  He picked his empty plate from the table and turned the sink to drop it into the washing bucket. “What did you clean today, Jayne?” he asked. “I know you’re doing that, I can tell.”

  Today I’d swept and dusted the living room. And then I’d taken another nap. “The living room,” I said. “Why?”

  “That’s it?” He turned, leaning against the sink. His bright eyes flashed at me, like I’d done something wrong.

  “I—I took a nap after,” I replied.

  “Because you were exhausted,” he added, glaring.

  “I was tired.” Tired didn’t sound as bad as exhausted.

  “And yet you’re going to walk three and a half miles through Edinburgh to the US consulate tomorrow.”

  When he put it that way, my plan sounded pretty dumb. But I had to make progress with this. I couldn’t sit around, day after day, imposing on this family. “I can’t just stay here, doing nothing.”

  “Jayne.” He sighed and raked his hand through his blond hair. The move was so Lee that my breath caught. Lee. I missed them so much it was a physical ache. They’d become part of me, and without them, I wasn’t whole.

  I would never see him again. And, yeah, it was my decision to step out of their lives, but that didn’t mean I wasn’t miserable about it. All day long, I fought my desire to find them. They would be here in hours, of that I had no doubt. They’d bring me back to Fairfax Manor, take my body and even more of my heart, but they’d still be married.

  They’d still have lied to me.

  They’d still have a woman—their wife—living on the floor above me.

 
No. I’d never see any of them again, and it broke my heart.

  “Jayne?” Rivers done had gone from exasperated to worried.

  I shook my head to clear the vision of Lee and forced a smile on my face. “I’m sorry,” I said. “My mind wandered.”

  He frowned, stepping forward. He gripped the back of the chair he’d been sitting in and squeezed, causing the muscles in his forearms to flex and contract. “Jayne. I don’t want you to think about what you owe us. Or if you’re imposing on us. We’re adults, and we’ll tell you if you are. All you need to do is get well. This is a safe place for you, and we won’t make any you do anything before you’re ready.”

  That was a strange way to phrase things, but I understood what he meant. “All right.”

  “So no more talk about the consulate until you can make it up the garden stairs without taking a break.”

  I laughed. The sound startled me, and I slapped my hand over my mouth. But Rivers smiled, amused, and pushed back his chair. The rest of the evening was spent with two of the three siblings. Charlotte was working late, so Rivers and Ann entertained me.

  I wondered if this was the way it was supposed to be between siblings. They didn’t turn the TV on or scroll through their phones. Instead, they talked to each other, and when they didn’t want to talk, Rivers pulled out an actual book.

  I looked at the title, and realized I couldn’t read it. “What are you reading?” I asked.

  “It’s a workbook,” he said. “Part of a program I’m using to learn Arabic.”

  “Really?” I wondered why.

  “Yes,” he said. “Do you speak any other language?”

  “French,” I answered. “Spanish. Mandarin, passably.” I cleared my throat. “I know a few German phrases.”

  Rivers placed the book upside down on his lap. “That’s quite a bit. Are you interested in furthering your language study? I have the entire program and kept the early books.”

  “Yes,” I replied. Learning something difficult would keep my mind off of the guys for at least brief bits of time.

  “Good,” he said.

  Ann smiled at me as Rivers went to get the books. “You’re bringing him out of his shell,” she whispered to me. “He’s not usually so talkative.”

  Oh. Anything I would have said left my head when he returned with the books. I accepted them gratefully and flipped through it. He’d placed some loose-leaf paper in the workbook, which he took from me when he opened the book. I realized, those were his answers to questions, he hadn’t actually written in the workbook. “No cheating,” he joked.

  “I wouldn’t,” I replied.

  He studied me for a minute before nodding. “I know you wouldn’t.”

  Ann widened her eyes at me, but I ignored her, pretending I didn’t know what she was hinting at.

  The next day, I worked on the lessons Rivers left, taking breaks only to clean. I had called the bank that issued my credit card the second day I was here but still hadn’t received the card they assured me would be messengered to me.

  When I called again, they told me it had been sent, and that I hadn’t received it made them believe it was lost. They were going to have to cancel it, and send a new one. I thanked the woman I spoke to and hung up.

  It was getting harder and harder to be patient with the speed of my recovery. While I felt a little bit better about staying with the Cynjins, I was still worried I was overstaying my welcome.

  “Hello!” The door opened and closed, and Charlotte came into the kitchen.

  “Hi,” I greeted her. “You’re home early,” I said.

  “Overstaffed,” she replied. “So I thought I’d come home and get some homework done.” Charlotte was still in school, or uni, but worked at a boutique on days when she didn’t have classes. All of the Cynjins were so busy, it made my head spin. Ann and Rivers worked twelve-hour hospital shifts, but were constantly picking up overtime.

  “It’s nice to see you,” I said. She had night classes, and I was often asleep when she came home.

  She put the kettle on to boil and sat next to me at the kitchen table. “I lied,” she said, folding her hands together.

  “What?” I asked. Confused, I replayed our interaction. It was all so surface, I couldn’t imagine where she’d lied.

  “About being overstaffed at the boutique. Ann told me about how Rivers gave you his books, and I wanted to talk to you.”

  Oh, no. Charlotte pulled her blonde hair over her shoulder and ran her fingers through the honey-colored strands nervously.

  “Charlotte…” I began.

  “Just listen.” She grabbed my hand and squeezed it. “You don’t know Rivers. He’s morose. Depressed. And those books he gave you? He’s learning Arabic because he’s going to do Doctors without Borders or something. He’s going to a war zone.”

  I didn’t know what to say. It was a very noble—and dangerous—thing to do. But it wasn’t my business.

  “You’re confused,” she said. “Let me explain. Rivers had his heart broken—or broke his own heart—Ann and I aren’t sure what exactly happened, but all he’s done is work and study, work and study. With you here, he’s like the old Rivers. And we think, or hope, that the longer you’re with us, the more likely it will be that he changes his mind. You see, we think the only reason he’s doing this is to get away. But now, there’s no reason for him to go away.”

  They thought I would hold him here in Edinburgh.

  “Charlotte.” I shook my head. There was nothing between me and Rivers. There was barely friendship. Most of the time we were together I annoyed or exasperated him.

  The kettle began to whistle. “Just don’t run away yet,” Charlotte said, pushing back her chair. “That’s all.”

  I wasn’t going anywhere, though not because of Rivers. He was handsome, and caring, but he wasn’t for me. The four men I left in England were the ones I loved. And I’d love them for the rest of my life.

  Charlotte slid a cup of tea across the table to me. “You’re a strange girl, Jayne,” she said. “Not like girls our age. Not like me and Ann. You’re a lot like Rivers.”

  Maybe I was. If the common thread was we’d both had our heart broken.

  There was a knock on the door and Charlotte startled. Her wide blue eyes held mine for a second before she stood up and opened the door. “Oh my goodness! Rose! Hi!”

  “Hi, Charlotte.” Heels clacked against the floor as her guest came inside. “Oh! Hello!”

  I stood. The woman at the entrance stared at me in confusion, glancing between me and Charlotte.

  “I’m Jayne,” I held out my hand and Rose took it.

  “I’m Rose. Rose Oliver. It’s nice to meet you.”

  I tamped down the instinct to smooth my hair or make sure I wasn’t wrinkled. Rose looked like she’d stepped off the runway. She was a tall, with dark hair and bright blue eyes. She shook out her hair, smoothing her hand over her curls before tucking a strand behind her ear.

  “I just came to return this.” She pulled a book out of the bag she had over her shoulder. “My father borrowed it from Rivers, and he hasn’t been well, so he wasn’t able to return it himself.” Rose’s gaze bounced around the apartment, as if she was searching for him.

  “Rivers isn’t here,” Charlotte said, but just as the words left her mouth, the door opened. Rivers walked in, stumbled to a stop, and paled.

  “Rose,” he said.

  “Rivers.” Rose’s voice was breathy, and her pale cheeks flushed.

  Rivers, on the other hand, looked like he’d seen a ghost. His hand shook as he brushed his hair away from his face, and he seemed fascinated by the floor.

  “My father asked me to return this to you,” the woman said, holding out the book.

  Rivers stepped forward to take it, and then immediately stepped back after she placed it in his hands.

  “Won’t you give me a hug?” she asked, her voice sad. “As an old friend?”

  He sighed but met her gaze, and Rose we
nt to him. She enfolded him in an embrace, which he returned briefly. But for that moment… I saw what it meant to him. His eyes closed. His shoulders sagged, and he let his cheek rest on Rose’s dark head.

  He seemed, just for a second, entirely content. But then he dropped his arms, stepped away, and crossed them over his chest as if to protect himself.

  “It’s good to see you, Rose. Tell your father I said hello, and I hope he feels better soon.”

  “He misses you, Rivers,” she said, holding tight to the strap of her bag. She swayed toward him and then thought better of it and took a step back.

  These two people loved each other; it was written all over them. So why were they acting like this? Charlotte said Rivers had his heart broken, but to my eyes, it was Rose whose affection wasn’t returned.

  “Both of us miss your company,” she finished quietly.

  “I’m very busy at the hospital,” he said. “And studying.”

  “Are you still planning to leave then?” she asked. The flush left her skin, leaving her pale and sad. “I’d hoped, with your work here, you’d change your mind. We gave a generous donation to Médecins sans Frontières.” Her accent was impeccable, but her words seemed to only increase Rivers’ tension.

  “They need doctors,” he said. “All the money in the world can’t purchase the volunteers they need in war-torn countries, Rose.” His voice softened. “You know that.”

  Rather than answer, she nodded. “I should go,” she said. “Goodbye.”

  “Goodbye,” he said, and she hurried past him and out the door.

  Rivers turned to watch her leave, and he didn’t face us until Rose’s form had disappeared.

  As he turned around, he saw both of us staring at him and sighed. “Go ahead, Charlotte.”

  “Why?” she asked. “She loves you! Why are you going away?”

  “She loves me, but it’s a selfish love.” Instead of looking at Charlotte, who’d asked the question, he stared at me. “She wants an easy life, one where I come home every evening at the same time after a day of rhinoplasties and tummy tucks. She doesn’t understand who I am. Or what’s important to me. She wants me to be content with being the sort of man her father is. A doctor whose patients are celebrities. All the good work he does is at Christmas or during photo ops. He’s not a bad man, Dr. Oliver, but he’s as much committed to the image of being a doctor as being an actual doctor.” Now he faced Charlotte. “That’s not the kind of man I am, Char. It’s not who I want to be, either.”