Jackie's Fate

Chapter 11

Friday 17th January 1964

Jackie Kennedy’s Bedroom

Jackie was sitting on her bed crying. She’d just watched an article on how miserable her life had been in the last six months. She’d thrown cushions and shoes around the room.

She threw her face into the pillow and sobbed. Clint Hill was on duty outside the residence, he could hear her. He wasn’t sure what to do when he saw the President approaching. “Afternoon Clint.” Jack said.

Clint noticed he seemed stressed about something. “Afternoon Sir, eh…. Mrs. Kennedy has been a little upset.”

“Okay Clint, thanks.” Jack said slamming the door. His face was pale and he looked like he’d been to hell and back. He went to Jackie’s room.

“Bunny,” Jackie sobbed sitting up.

“Kid, what’s wrong?” He sat down putting his arms around her. She nuzzled her head into the crook of his neck. “I hate my life….”

“Jackie… what?” He was confused.

“The miscarriage…Arabella…your womanising… Patrick and then Dallas.” She yelled.

“Jackie Sh.” He whispered.

“No!” She chucked a glass at the wall. It shattered into a thousand pieces. Jack hugged her tighter. “Calm.”

She wriggled out of his grasp. “No listen to me Jack!” She shouted. Jack stood up staring at her.

“I forgave you when you didn’t come when Arabella died, I forgave you for making me go to the 1956 nation convention when I miscarried, I forgave you for sleeping with Marilyn Monroe, I appreciated your support when Patrick died but you haven’t even said sorry for making me go to Dallas or for your other womanising!” She yelled.

Jack avoided her gaze and looked at the floor. He swallowed the lump in his throat. “Jackie…..”

She went to get into her wheelchair when Jack picked her up, despite his back. “What are you doing?” She exclaimed.

“I love you and only you, I know I’m the worst husband in the world and I’m sorry for everything, including making you go to Dallas.” He said holding her.

She looked at him. “Jack… I’m sorry… I just I was angry.”

He stroked her hair. “I know kid, and I’m not easy to be married too.”

She raised an eyebrow. “You could say that again.”

He leaned in and kissed her gently. “Please don’t bottle things up like that; you can always talk to me.”

She nodded. “I know.”

He put her on the bed and lay down beside her. “You know it’s not long till we go to Russia.”

She nodded. “I’m actually really looking forward to it.”

He grinned. “The dinner at the Winter Palace will be amazing, walking down those steps, being like Tsar Nicholas II and Tsarina Alexandra.”

She looked at him. “Walk?”

He cringed. “I’m sorry….” He’d turned red.

“It’s fine.”