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It’s six in the morning on the fifth anniversary of the day that Jack lost his wife. He doesn’t even need to check the calendar anymore, it’s like a sixth sense somewhere in his body. He just knows when that day is coming, and he feels it when it comes.
Any other year, he would have spent the day working—surrounded by colleagues but feeling completely alone—probably moping, probably finding excuses to make his way back up to the roof. Staring down at the tarmac all those many feet below, wondering just how much paperwork Robby would have to fill if he decided one day he wanted to jump.
“… Jack?” comes Samira’s sweet voice, soft with exhaustion. “You’re awake so early.”
He hesitates for a moment, then shifts where he’d sat up in bed to turn his body around so he can gaze back down at her, eyes never failing to betray his adoration. “Yeah, I… well, you know what day it is. Just a little hard to sleep through the night instead of workin’ it off like usual, I guess.” he shrugs, trying to play it off a little.
Samira watches him, a skeptical look on her face that soon melts away into understanding, then shifts where she’s nestled comfortably to yawn and stretch before lazily pushing her body up to sit beside him. “Oh, gosh… right. I’m sorry,” she soothes as her head dips down to plant soft, reassuring kisses over his freckled shoulder. “I’m here for you, of course. Just… let me know if you need some time, okay?”
Her curls tickle at his skin and as he watches her through half-lidded eyes Jack swears he can picture his wife, almost as if Samira is unconsciously leaving behind afterimages of the exact ways she’d display her affection. He can’t think about it for too long before he has to force the thought away, pushing it as far as possible so his guilt can’t reach it. They’ve been together for over a year now—he shouldn’t be thinking of someone else when he’s with Samira, even if that someone was his wife.
It’s funny, though. What are the odds that when he finally, finally permits himself to move on, the woman he winds up falling for is like a mirror image in so many ways? Jack gives her a despondent smile, and immediately Samira can tell something is on his mind. Those doe eyes of hers watch him closely, wordlessly studying how every little wrinkle creases with barely disguised emotion, and she shifts nearer to slide her palm reassuringly up and down over his muscular back. “You know you can tell me if there’s something bothering you, right? I know I can be a little hardheaded, but—”
“It’s fine, Samira. Trust me, having you here by my side is helping so much more than you would imagine. It’s just…” he hesitates, letting out a thoughtful grunt and shifting to wind a strong arm around her waist and tuck her in closer to his body, “I don’t know how to describe this without the risk of it causing offence, but… really, sometimes you remind me so much of her. It’s a complicated feeling. I don’t know whether I should feel glad or guilty about that.”
As he watches Samira’s face he sees her nose twitch, almost imperceptibly. He can tell it got under her skin and he draws a deep breath, suddenly starting to feel a little guilty. “Shit, I… I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that. Really should’ve kept that to myself.”
“Jack,” Samira interjects before he can go any further. As he looks back into her eyes he sees wide brown pools of understanding. “I know I can be… not the best at hiding how I feel, especially when comparing myself alongside others. And of course I’m going to be a little jealous that anyone got to love you before I did for such a long time. But seriously, I wouldn’t ever want you to feel guilty for seeing her in me. In fact—it’s a little reassuring, you know?”
Jack’s expression grows into a fold smile, one large hand lifting to tenderly cradle the underside of her jaw. “You really think so?”
Samira nods and smiles. “Yeah. I’m not the best at relationships… never have been. But it sorta makes me feel like she’s dropping hints that I’m doing the right thing. Loving you the way she would want me to.” she breathes out contently through her nose, her hand resting over his as she nuzzles into his palm a little further. “What kind of things are they?”
“Well, the biggest thing would definitely be how you get so swept up in that adrenaline you get from saving lives. For her it was making art for people, for you it’s helping people. But you get that same fire in you.” He pauses for a moment, thinking of what else, and his smile grows as more comes to mind. “You drum your fingertips on surfaces when you’re really thinking. Come to think of it, she loved a claw clip too. There’s a lot.”
As he recounts more of what he remembers, he sees the way his wife would do one thing, and then those afterimages of Samira doing the same. Maybe that’s partially why he fell for her to begin with. She felt… familiar. Safe. He was so intent on not moving on at first, but the more he spent time with her, the less time he spent on the roof.
He was never counting, of course, but Robby and Dana were quick to point out just how much less they’d seen him head that way lately. That was it clicked for him—when he silently promised himself he’d bring Samira up there one day, tell her all the ways she’d helped him heal just by being her incredible self.
“Jack?”
He hadn’t realised he was spacing out. Again. “Yeah, sweetheart?”
“This might be an odd question. So don’t laugh, okay? But… do you think she’d be happy with me? With how I’ve been with you?”
Jack laughs heartily. “Oh, yeah. She’d be over the moon, Mira. You played a huge part in saving my life. You may not have seen it, but I did, and I know she definitely would. C’mon, let’s go get some breakfast. We have a lot of nice things to chat about today.”
Five years on from losing his wife, Jack wouldn’t say the ache fully left and he’s not sure it ever will. But there’s a glow that Samira brings to his life every day which makes him feel like he deserves a second chance; all it takes is her being there, and the warmth feels stronger than any emptiness ever could.