A Cure for the Blind

Chapter 36 - We Are Murder

Chapter Thirty-Six

We Are Murder

Jack felt her gentle and warm hands making their way along his chest, her breath hot against his ear, her voice an enchanting melody for his mind.

“Hello, my love,” she whispered, before she kissed his neck.

Jack sighed and got up abruptly. “Not now, Hannah.”

He walked away from her, but she pursued him, reaching the door to his bedroom before he could escape and trapping him inside.

“What’s wrong with you?” she asked, with defiance. She was frowning, her stance rigid and strong, immovable against the door. In the face of his silence, she insisted, “You are not the same anymore. I’d expected you to be beyond happy right now. Instead, you are more miserable than ever!” Her eyes shined and she added with a whisper, “Is it because of her?”

Jack chuckled and turned away from her, feeling a bitter sense of amusement. “That’s interesting. It seems like I’m not the only one not getting what he expected.” He turned to face her again, his arms stretched, a joyless smirk on his face. “I was expecting you to have called off the engagement already. I expected things to be completely different and yet, surprise and behold, they’re still exactly the same!”

Jack walked closer to her, his tone rising while her frown turned into a sullen look of quiet despair. “Absolutely nothing has changed!” he concluded, his fake smile wider than ever.

“You have changed,” Hannah whispered.

“Well, someone bloody should!”

“Have you seen your brother lately?” she asked, her tone one of accusation. “Do you really think this is the best time to do this to him?”

“Stop it!” Jack brought his hands to his head, turning away from her again for a few seconds. “Stop with the excuses! It will never be the right time! There is no right time to destroy a man’s world. If you really wanted this, you’d done something by now.”

“Do it yourself, then!” she replied. “Why don’t you do it?”

“Because I’m always the one who fights for this. I’m always the one who sacrifices everything. For once, I would like to see you doing something. Show me you really want this!”

“Sacrifice?” she repeated in a weak voice. A lonely tear escaped from her beautiful eye. “This is because of her, isn’t it? You’re talking about the servant, aren’t you? She’s your sacrifice?”

Jack stood quiet for a minute that seemed like an hour. His bitter smile had vanished. His eyes found Hannah’s and he answered in the most honest way possible, “Yes.”

“You regret it…” she said, her eyes widened with fear, as if she couldn’t believe her own conclusion.

Jack chuckled again and he avoided her tearful eyes by looking at the closest wall. He shook his head. “You just want everything, Hannah.” He looked at her again and smiled once more. “And I can’t let you have it. I can’t give you that.”

“And you just want what you can’t have,” she replied, her voice as cold as her icy blue eyes.

Jack walked to her and opened the door. Hannah stepped to the side, not attempting to stop him anymore. He shared one last look with her, before leaving.

“I think I’ve outgrown you, Hannah.”

***

The house was quiet and cold. The lit fireplace did very little to warm or make the place more inviting. The living room where they were standing was mostly dark and empty – as unwelcome as St. Agnes’s streets were at night.