Jackson -

I don't want to move back in with you.

Those simple words threatened to break the hold I've only just barely grasped on my sanity.

My life for the last three weeks have been absolute torture. I was the one to find Maggie bleeding out and unconscious in her old Sonata. I was the one to call the ambulance, to watch the EMT take her pulse, stop the bleeding. A few weeks after the realization that she might never come back finally sank in, she awoke. She awoke only to break my heart once more by forgetting me entirely.

I've had quite enough of this back and forth, this roller coaster that has become my entire existence. Fuck it. She doesn't want to move in, that's fine.  But it's not going to stop me from getting her back.

After the initial shock of her confession passes, I attempt to make a deal with her.  She can live wherever the hell she wants, do whatever she wants, rediscover her past, but once a week she's mine. I won't take no for an answer.

She's impossibly stubborn so I initially suggest two days, because I know her and I know she'll argue for one. The conversation flows easy, teasing back and forth as if nothing has changed.  However, she catches me off guard when she asks, "What makes you so confident?"

What makes me so confident?

How about the fact that I've memorized you, body and soul. I've caressed every inch of your skin, every silky fold, and curve. I've memorized the way your forehead wrinkles in concern when you have something to say but you're terrified of saying it. I remember the smile that lights up your face when you see me for the first time each morning.

And I know you try so hard to be fiercely independent, but something deep inside you craves someone to hold at night. I don't take a single moment for granted with you, desperately clutching on to every kiss, touch, every single fucking word, and I know you once did the same.

Instead of confessing everything I desperately want her to hear, I bury the words close to my chest and simply lean closer.  I'm close enough to smell a hint of vanilla wafting from her neck, teasing my senses.

"You forget, I know you Mags. While you might not remember anything about me, I remember everything about you." I pause, letting my words sink in as I lay my arm casually over the bench behind her. "They way you like to be talked to, kissed, touched."

She inhales sharply and I watch the goosebumps rise on her arms.

I've still got it.

I try to hide a cocky grin but the corner of my lips betray me as she stands abruptly to her feet, almost tripping in the process.

"Holy shit!" She shouts and a laugh escapes me, and here I thought this would be a challenge. Her mind may have forgotten me, but her body still responds the same.

Maggie's face turns bright red and I know she's mortified, but I also know she won't give in so easily.  She's always been exceptionally difficult and incredibly stubborn, but then again so am I.  Perhaps that's why she's so addictive, a candied drug that's impossible to put down for long.

I can't help but smile as I stand and head towards the hallway to leave, "I'll get your shit from our place and drop it off at Bethany's."

"You're not going to walk me back?" She calls after me and stands to her feet, attempting to follow close behind.

She's reacted just as I thought she would, she's exactly the innocent girl she was when we met. When our worlds originally collided she was merely a lost lamb who happened to stumble into a lion's den.

I tried my best to stay away, I honestly did, but she was so alluring that I quickly realized walking away would be an impossible task. Knowing I could never leave, I pushed her away.  I was impossibly cruel and gave her countless warnings but she stuck around.

I'm positive her mind convinced her of what every woman inevitably thinks, 'I can fix him.'  Out of the many women who have had that very same thought, she was the only one that could and did.

In the end, we both changed. We adjusted to each other, both swaying back and forth like palm trees in each other's direction, bending but not breaking. However, the taint I left in her has disappeared, wiped away like a stubborn smudge on a mirror.

Since the moment Maggie opened her eyes I've been keeping my temper in check, but my patience has run out. It wasn't doing me any favors anyway. She didn't care that I was doing my best to be a good boy, she was bored. I could see it in her eyes and fuck, so was I.

Maggie didn't fall in love with a good boy.  If she did, she would have been with Sam and never had this accident in the first place.

She fell in love with me, a self-righteous asshole. If that's what she truly wants, she'll get it. I have no problem being myself, it's being good that was tough.

"Are you accepting my deal?" I shout over my shoulder without bothering to stop.

We weave through the bright hospital hallways and I know she's lost. But every time I think she might have fallen behind she suddenly perks up in my ear.

"Fine. Once a week." She shouts, close enough to where there was no need to shout. 

Finally.

She's irritated, good.  I need her to elicit any emotion other than indifferent.

I stop abruptly and turn to face her, eager to hear her give in. But I hadn't realized just how close she was trailing behind me, so she collides hard into my chest and starts sliding towards the floor.

Maggie's hands fly up into the air and land around my shoulders, but before she falls to the floor I wrap my arms around her waist to catch her. I notice she's given up on keeping her hospital gown closed and my fingers graze the bare skin of her lower back, causing an unforgivable craving.

"Deal." I whisper as I stare into her ocean eyes. 

A sudden overwhelming urge to kiss her flows through my veins and I clench my jaw in an attempt to control the thirst. Her ocean eyes move to my lips and I hear her inhale a sharp breath.

"No kissing." She stammers, her eyes never leaving my mouth.

"What if you ask for it?" I tease, taken aback by her sudden need for control.

"Don't get your hopes up." She rolls her eyes with defiance and I raise a single brow as if to ask if she's sure. "Fine, only if I ask."

I allow myself a cocky grin, pleased with the answer she gave me.  My fingers linger on her bare skin and I'm not sure how long I can go without making a move so I simply smack her exposed ass. "Deal."

I turn and head back down the hallway towards the exit, leaving Maggie standing in shock and clutching her hospital gown.

"Once a week!" She shouts, but I pretend I don't hear her and strut towards the exit.

I smugly make my way through the vast parking lot, satisfied with getting my way.  It's been weeks since I've actually had to use my Dodge Charger, but surprisingly I find it easily enough. It's parked in the very back of the visitor's section, next to a crowd of other vehicles here for the same reason.

The drive to my penthouse goes faster than expected, the traffic lights seem to be lit in my favor today.  I turn on the radio to drown out my thoughts and Hosier begins playing, of course. 

Maggie had a theory that the heavy rock music I listened to was, at the very least, a cherry on top of my aggression.  She always forced me to listen to her calmer music, usually acoustic and almost always the type to put you to sleep.  However I'll admit, Hosier isn't half bad and now it just reminds me of her.

In the past, I was forced through counseling due to the tremendous amount of trouble I caused before I was legally considered an adult. I was to lay on a couch and spill my guts to a complete stranger so they could find the reason for my aggression.

However, I've never needed a therapist to know why I was so fucked up and I wasn't about to become like so many of my mates, destroying their minds and bodies with pills. So those 'mandatory' sessions we're never fully completed.

I was furious that I was abandoned, pissed off that I was left like a piece of trash on the fire house's doorstep. I carried that resentment with me throughout my entire life, it followed me like a shadow.

I forced people away any way I could, making myself toxic to be around so no one would ever have the chance to hurt me again. That is, until Maggie.  She forced her way through my barriers and stuck by my side through all the madness and self-sabotage.

However, it wasn't until Maggie slipped into a coma that I truly felt abandonment. I was abandoned unwillingly by the only person I've ever let see the real me. 

I pull up to the tower that is my apartment complex and toss the keys to the nearest valet. I haven't been here since Maggie left the night of the accident. 

She peeled out of the parking lot with a fury, leaving me standing alone and half naked in the rain.  I still remember the chill that traveled through my spine as the freezing storm seeped through my towel.  She was prepared to leave me for good over a simple misunderstanding. A simple, platinum blonde, five-foot, annoying misunderstanding, Julie.

Maggie doesn't remember.

I shake the thoughts from my head as I step into the shiny metal elevator and select the thirtieth floor. It moves slowly as people continue to pile in, stopping on almost every level.  I groan and remind myself to purchase a house soon.

The few possessions Maggie took with her as she stormed out of my apartment were lost in the wreck. But I managed to recover one prized possession that she wouldn't even remember now, the envelope with her father's address.

Maggie kept this envelope as if it was the key to her relationship with her father.  I still remember the moment she found it, she knew then without a doubt that her father was alive. 

It's a bit tattered now after sitting in the rain, stained with a few drops of Maggie's own blood, but nevertheless, I saved it. One day, I'll have to come clean and let her in on every important detail she's missed, but I find myself apprehensive about telling her too much too soon.

Julie's surprise, her mother's fabrication regarding her father, the deception from the start of our relationship, I can't leave any of the shitty news out. But for now, I'll simply concentrate on winning her back. I can't imagine blurting the truth then asking to court her.

After hiding the tattered envelope under the boxer-briefs in my underwear drawer, I slide it closed and continue collecting Maggie's things.

After loading an assortment of clothes into a few grocery bags, I head towards the door.  I'm satisfied with the amount of items I've packed for her. It's enough for a week or two but not her entire wardrobe.  For the rest, she'll have to see me again.

Maggie's old apartment with Bethany is only a few blocks down the road. Something I, at least subconsciously, had in mind while purchasing our penthouse.

I pull into the lot and begin walking up the stairs but the door flings open and Bethany stands waiting with her usual bright smile.  Her shoulder-length platinum blonde hair bobs up and down as she greets me with enthusiasm. Although I'm grateful she's Maggie's best friend, her bubbly personality has always been slightly irritating.

"Jack!" She reaches out and wraps her arms tight around my waist, not in a sexual way, but simply because she's not tall enough to reach my shoulders. "Maggie's doing good I hear, she was just talking to me about getting released!"

So that's the reason for her excitement.

"She's being released?" I ask, doubtful.

"Well, not officially, but she thinks she will be soon!" Bethany jumps up and down a few times more.

I simply walk past her and enter the apartment, eager to get back to Maggie.  I can't help that I'm slightly irritated that she'll be coming home with Bethany as opposed to home, where she belongs.

"Oh Jack, don't be like that. She'll come around." She says, obviously referring to my sulking about Maggie staying here.

I ignore her words of encouragement and refer back to her original statement, "Maggie's been trying to escape the hospital since the second she opened her eyes. I'll believe she's being released when Dr. Moore says the words herself."

"Alright, alright." The energy is drained from Bethany and with a roll of her eyes she points down the hallway to Maggie's old room. "You can just set her stuff in her room."

"Her old room." I correct.

"Yes, her old room." Bethany rolls her eyes again and walks towards the kitchen, clearly annoyed with my pessimist attitude.

I walk down the dark narrow hallway, not bothering to remove my converse before treading on the carpet and make my way to Maggie's old room.

Her bedroom set is still here. The old out of date wood furniture that's so obviously from her childhood is exactly the way it was when I first saw it. Vintage posters from movies and classic books still litter her walls, but my eyes land on the dream board I examined so long ago.

I remember scanning her dream board, a collage of pictures and magazine clippings littering the cork. Before that moment I could never imagine my future, I had no major dreams or goals other than winning the National Book Awards.

But the moment I laid eyes on that rickety wooden cork board I knew, I wanted to be a part of the future she had envisioned. I wanted my picture up there next to all of these clippings, maybe even a picture of both of us stuck right next to Big Ben.

"I'll take you there." I murmured as I pointed to a photo of Big Ben.

"Jack! Get in here!" I hear Bethany shout from the next room.

I quickly set the bags of Maggie's clothes on her bed and walk towards the woman frantically calling my name.

"For Christ's sake woman." I growl as I enter the kitchen and lay eyes on Bethany who's got the phone clutched to her ear. "What?"

"Maggie's being released!" Bethany squeals.