Part Five
I t felt as if the note was staring back at him, boring into his soul and trying to pry out some admission of his guilt.
There it was. In Dana's hand. Her thoughts in his handwriting--the list of dirty fantasies he'd copied from her diary and stashed away for his own personal study. The ultimate betrayal.
"It's not what it looks like," he said, even though it most definitely was.
"I'm not really sure what to say to that." She smoothed the note out on the table, and he turned off the burner on the stove, and then slid into the seat opposite her.
For a long while, he allowed the silence to stretch over them as he willed her to look him in the eye.
Like, maybe if she met his gaze it'd be easier for her to forgive him. Or, at least a little bit less painful to listen to what he'd done.
When a few minutes had passed and there was still no sign of movement, though, he reached across the table for Dana's hand and she yanked it away so fast he was amazed she didn't catch a splinter.
"Dana, I was going to tell you."
"How about you tell me now. What were you doing looking in my private diary? I feel...used. Violated." She winced and he sighed.
This hadn't been the way he'd planned on telling her. In his mind, there had been joking and whispering and long, heartfelt explanations. Here? With the single kitchen light shining on them from overhead, it felt more like a crime scene interrogation.
Which, he supposed, was probably more fitting.
"I didn't think it was going to be a big deal--"
"You what?" She hissed, but he rushed to continue before she had the chance to fully unleash her rage.
"At first, I mean. The diary just fell open. You remember? That day you couldn't find it?"
"I was a wreck that day. I was convinced one of my patients had found it. And then--"
"I went to the hospital to visit you."
She grimaced. "Because of the diary."
"At first, yes. But...it was fun and you were so happy. After that, I couldn't stop thinking about it. I wanted to give you the things that you wanted and I didn't want to--"
"Stop. I think I get the picture. You've been using my list like a check off sheet of sex positions and you didn't want me to know about it because you wanted me to think you were some kind of sex psychic, is that it?"
He held up his hands in a show of innocence. "No, it wasn't like that."
"Whatever it was, did you read anything else in the diary?"
"No."
"Okay." Without another word, she slid her chair back from the table, and turned on her heel.
He watched her go, already envisioning all the different things he could have said in order to make things better.
But at the end of the day? He should have always known it would end up like this.
With him groveling for Dana's forgiveness as they both scavenged for the pieces of the trust he'd shattered.
He padded out to the living room to find a pillow and blanket sitting in front of the closed bedroom door.
When he knocked, there was no answer, just as he knew there wouldn't be.
----
D ana stared at the ceiling for most of the night, trying to piece together what she was supposed to think, how she was supposed to feel.
Had it been that stupid freaking list that had made Jax so hot for her? Even if the thing was of her own making, it stung to think that when he looked at her, he'd been thinking about those things.
That it wasn’t just a spur of the moment fantasy.
That was the real thing she wanted. To do all those things in the moment with her husband because they couldn't keep their hands off of each other. Not because they were ticking off markers as a means to some arbitrary end.
She blew a piece of hair out of her face and watched as it drifted back onto her cheek.
Of course, she could see how he might think it was sweet. Trying to put her needs ahead of his own. Before that day at the hospital...
Her stomach turned, thinking of how happy she'd been. Before that, they'd barely gotten to spend any time together. Now it felt like they were a
I t felt as if the note was staring back at him, boring into his soul and trying to pry out some admission of his guilt.
There it was. In Dana's hand. Her thoughts in his handwriting--the list of dirty fantasies he'd copied from her diary and stashed away for his own personal study. The ultimate betrayal.
"It's not what it looks like," he said, even though it most definitely was.
"I'm not really sure what to say to that." She smoothed the note out on the table, and he turned off the burner on the stove, and then slid into the seat opposite her.
For a long while, he allowed the silence to stretch over them as he willed her to look him in the eye.
Like, maybe if she met his gaze it'd be easier for her to forgive him. Or, at least a little bit less painful to listen to what he'd done.
When a few minutes had passed and there was still no sign of movement, though, he reached across the table for Dana's hand and she yanked it away so fast he was amazed she didn't catch a splinter.
"Dana, I was going to tell you."
"How about you tell me now. What were you doing looking in my private diary? I feel...used. Violated." She winced and he sighed.
This hadn't been the way he'd planned on telling her. In his mind, there had been joking and whispering and long, heartfelt explanations. Here? With the single kitchen light shining on them from overhead, it felt more like a crime scene interrogation.
Which, he supposed, was probably more fitting.
"I didn't think it was going to be a big deal--"
"You what?" She hissed, but he rushed to continue before she had the chance to fully unleash her rage.
"At first, I mean. The diary just fell open. You remember? That day you couldn't find it?"
"I was a wreck that day. I was convinced one of my patients had found it. And then--"
"I went to the hospital to visit you."
She grimaced. "Because of the diary."
"At first, yes. But...it was fun and you were so happy. After that, I couldn't stop thinking about it. I wanted to give you the things that you wanted and I didn't want to--"
"Stop. I think I get the picture. You've been using my list like a check off sheet of sex positions and you didn't want me to know about it because you wanted me to think you were some kind of sex psychic, is that it?"
He held up his hands in a show of innocence. "No, it wasn't like that."
"Whatever it was, did you read anything else in the diary?"
"No."
"Okay." Without another word, she slid her chair back from the table, and turned on her heel.
He watched her go, already envisioning all the different things he could have said in order to make things better.
But at the end of the day? He should have always known it would end up like this.
With him groveling for Dana's forgiveness as they both scavenged for the pieces of the trust he'd shattered.
He padded out to the living room to find a pillow and blanket sitting in front of the closed bedroom door.
When he knocked, there was no answer, just as he knew there wouldn't be.
----
D ana stared at the ceiling for most of the night, trying to piece together what she was supposed to think, how she was supposed to feel.
Had it been that stupid freaking list that had made Jax so hot for her? Even if the thing was of her own making, it stung to think that when he looked at her, he'd been thinking about those things.
That it wasn’t just a spur of the moment fantasy.
That was the real thing she wanted. To do all those things in the moment with her husband because they couldn't keep their hands off of each other. Not because they were ticking off markers as a means to some arbitrary end.
She blew a piece of hair out of her face and watched as it drifted back onto her cheek.
Of course, she could see how he might think it was sweet. Trying to put her needs ahead of his own. Before that day at the hospital...
Her stomach turned, thinking of how happy she'd been. Before that, they'd barely gotten to spend any time together. Now it felt like they were a
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