My Wife, My Man?

Chapter Fifty-two

"There is no fear in love. But perfect love drives out fear, because fear has to do with punishment. The one who fears is not made perfect in love." 1 John 4:18

The cross. Jack scoffed to himself. Of course, Marx would have brought him to a place like this. And although his heart hinted towards it throughout the silent drive, he was too worried to care where exactly it was that they were going. When last was he in this building, anyway?

He didn't want to be at this place where all his remembered prayers never went beyond the ceiling. However, he still sat there, head bowed and hands together as if he was about to say a prayer.

The only memory of this place that he held was that of the accident. He often had flashes of the incident and each time; it ignited the fear he had felt at that moment. It drew him to the dark side, guilt hovering around him like an endless cloud of rain. He still blamed himself, and each day, he still wished it was him lying in that coffin instead.

"How's your dad? And your mom?"

Jack wiggled his head from side to side to indicate that they were well. His mom had travelled into the country the day before and his dad? Daniel hadn't visited the hospital since Perli was admitted.

"When last were we here together?" Marx's voice echoed a sad cheer, his eyes staring at the cross that stood in front of them.

Jack diverted his stare to the ground, unwilling to give any answer.

"It's been four years since I last saw this place and it hasn't changed much, has it? Does pastor Mitchell still lead the church?"

Jack withheld no energy to shrug nor give a smile that would not portray his sadness. The burdens of worries he had been shouldering for the past days had sucked the life out of him, leaving behind a shadow of a person who merely existed.

His dull eyes lifted from the ground to meet Marx's. "Why are we here?" his voice cracked in the dryness of his throat. Although Marx had gotten him something to eat and drink along the way, he had no appetite for food.

"Why are we here, Marx?" he asked again, a faint echo of anger ringing in his cracked voice. He knew the answer, yet he still asked anyway.

Marx studied him with sad eyes. "To talk to..."

Jack didn't want to listen. "I have told you countless times that I don't want anything to do with God!" Anger arose in his voice as he rose to his feet. "How many times do I have to say it? How many times do I have to..." He withheld his urge to break down into tears. "I don't want to be here; I hate this place. Being here reminds me of..."

"I know." The smile on Marx's face was a sad one. He directed his eyes back to the cross.

Jack sat back down, his legs giving in to the weakness of his entire being. "I have lived with much guilt for years, but for the past years, I have been tormented by her death and now, knowing about Lucky's..." He stopped himself from further speaking that name. "Your niece, I couldn't save her, and I still blame myself every day."

Marx shut his eyes briefly, the memories of his niece flashing through his mind. He opened his eyes, diverting his gaze to the ground then back at his friend's face. He placed a hand on his shoulder. "We have lived these past years afraid to talk. We have fought to move on, leaving the healing of our wounds to nature. This prolonged silence that came with our desire to move on, has left you broken. It has left you feeling guilty. I'm sorry that my family and I made it feel like it was your fault, for not wanting to talk about it and leaving you in this darkness for too long. Jack, Mandy's death really wasn't your fault, it..."