Chapter Text
Jack is forced to open his bloodshot eyes as the light peeking through the narrow fissures in the blinds becomes too much to sleep through. His eyes, usually a deep, vibrant brown, appear dull and glossed over. They sting from the tears that had filled them the night before. His body aches and his mind feels hungover, though he hasn’t had an ounce of alcohol in a week.
It’s been a week.
Sluggishly, Jack swings his legs, one after the other, over the side of their bed. He throws the heavy covers to the side and places his head in his hands. Jack releases a sigh he hopes will relieve tension in his rigid muscles, but he has no such luck.
Jack considers looking over his shoulder, looking for the familiar face of the man he shared this bed with. Jack contemplates checking, but he knows the glance would be full of sorrow and regret that surrounds every thought of him.
For the first time in a week, Jack didn’t check.
This was no small victory, but looking at the broken boy sitting on the edge of their king bed, no one would be able to tell. Jack’s back cries out in pain as he stands from his hunched over position; a position that has come to embody and mirror how his mind feels. The need to check the other side of the bed becomes the forefront desire in his mind, but he strains to control the impulse. Jack makes his way to the door, opening it.
He pauses in the doorway.
Jack looks back over his shoulder and his devoid eyes search for the man he once loved.
He isn’t surprised with the outcome.
Although, the pang in his chest hurt like a bullet all the same.
Davey is over. Davey is gone.
Every morning Jack is met with the unsettling notion that he is completely alone. He walks the one small hall of their apartment, the floor creaking underneath his feet with every step. The hollow sounds remind him that he is the only one making them. His head becomes the loudest element of their house, reminding him that Davey’s laugh was no longer there to fill that void. Jack walks past the kitchen, part of him still hoping that Davey will be there making breakfast for the two of them. The scene of the kitchen remains untouched. There is a mess of plates and leftovers, but Jack can’t get himself to clean it up. The silence in the kitchen is deafening.
Was Davey feeling this too?
Jack’s feet drag along the hardwood floors as he finds his way to the couch. His laptop is thrown to the side, half open but the battery dead. Sheet music is strewn out across the small coffee table, but it hasn’t been touched since being set out. The sight of these two things places another weight on his shoulders. He wonders when these weights are going to overpower him for good.
It’s impossible Davey’s feeling this way, he thought.
Davey has all he ever wanted: his dream job, a place in the city, his own office, and a life without Jack dragging him down. Davey had made it clear that his life was better without Jack, even if he’d never said it out loud. Jack has always believed that actions speak louder than words.
The thought of food crosses Jack’s mind, but it’s dismissed when his stomach doesn’t cry out in hunger. Jack hasn’t eaten regularly, he hasn’t felt the need. He hasn’t felt the need to do much of anything, recently. The most important person in his life didn’t think he was enough, so maybe it’s true. If he’s not worth Davey’s time, then whose time is he worth?
Jack spends most of the time searching for answers. He replays moments from the past five years in his head, wondering what would have happened if he’d done something different, said something different. Jack can feel the what-ifs eating away at his chest. What if he’d apologized faster? What if he’d been more caring? What if he’d never met David Jacobs at all? What if the tall boy with the infectious laugh and mesmerizing hazel eyes had never walked into his life?
These are the thoughts that kill. These are the thoughts that leave him staring at nothing but a blank wall for hours.
The blue wall in front of him hasn’t always been bare; it was once filled with things Jack would describe as happy. It was once filled with memories that caused his heart to flutter and made the corners of his mouth tug up into a smile. He could still imagine the layout. The left top corner held pictures of their dating years. Towards the right side hung all of their achievements, arranged to show what was most important them. And in the middle, the area that was Jack’s favorite, held a collage of their wedding photos. Their wedding was the best day of Jack’s life, but pictures that were once bright, vibrant, and full of joyous emotions are replaced with pictures that appear so dull, they are almost black and white.
Jack couldn’t handle the memories being a constant reminder of all he’s lost. He took them down after the second night he spent alone.
Why did Davey get to decide this was over?
Jack didn’t get a say, yet he was the one left with the scars that he did nothing to earn. Every line of the note Davey left him lashed a new wound into Jack’s back. Every promise Davey had made him left fatal marks on his heart.
What about Davey?
Did he have these similar scars?
Jack picks up the neatly folded piece of paper that stood out from the rest chaotic sheet music. He’d wanted to crumple it up and burn it, but a roadblock stood in his way. This was Jack’s last piece of David. This was Jack’s last sliver of sanity.
He unfolds it, taking in the calculated calligraphy that Davey had left him. Everything about the note is perfect; from the way Jack’s name was written on the top, to the way Davey signed it on the bottom. It was poetic, but devastating. The words enchanted Jack, but broke him at the same time.
Davey has always had a way with words.
What Jack would give for one more day, one more chance to prove to Davey that this could work. He wanted one more opportunity to show Davey that he was throwing away the best thing that had ever happened in their lives.
But Jack knew this was just wishful thinking.
Jack’s eyes wandered around the room, catching sight of the door that separated him from Davey’s office.
Davey had wanted his own office more than anything. When they moved in they made sure there was a room for one. It got to a point Jack wouldn’t even look at a place if there wasn’t an office, Jack wanted to make sure that Davey was happy.
Jack hasn’t entered that room since he left.
As if a ghost, Jack raises himself to his feet and slowly drags himself to the doorway.
It is time to face this.
Upon opening the door, everything appears untouched. Jack hadn’t spent much time in this room: it is Davey’s area and he respects that. The drawers to his desk are shut and the bookshelves that lined either side of the small room are neat and organized. A thin sheet of dust coats everything in the room, cobwebs beginning to form in the crevices of the office. The sun breaks through the windows illuminating the desk Jack had seen Davey work at plenty of times.
The light glimmers off an object on the desk.
Picking up the quarter-sized item, tears pull at the corners of his eyes.
Jack turns the ring over in his hands a few times, not being able to wrap his hand around the idea of what he’s holding.
A tear slips down his cheek as he inspects the wedding band. It's smooth between his fingers. Jack notices the warn-down interior; almost as if Davey had been removing it from his finger often. The thought causes Jack’s throat to drop into his stomach. He doesn’t want to accept it.
Davey left him with nothing, nothing but a promise of forever that he would never be able to keep.
Most of Jack’s time is spent sitting at the piano in the window. He tries to play as he used to, but the notes don’t seem to flow when he’s not there. Staring out the window, he admires the world around him. He admires that despite the shit that goes on every day, the Earth continues to spin.
It’s a selfish thought, but he gets upset when people walk past and laugh. No, they’re not laughing at him, but he doesn’t understand how people can be happy when he’s so sad. It’s not like they know what happened, but it still feels cruel.
Time passes slower when David isn’t around; minutes feel like hours and hours feel like days. The lights in the apartment are dimmer and every sound echoes as if the emptiness of the space is mocking him.
Davey has moved on, Jack is stuck.
Davey has moved on.
Jack is still hurting.