by M. Robinson
The female reporter beamed. “You’re so lovely, Skyler Bell. Don’t ever change. It’s why you’re Hollywood’s shining star.”
“Awe, thank you so much. I love what I do, it doesn’t feel like work to me. It’s what I was born to do.”
“Can you give us some insight on your personal life? Your family stays behind closed doors. Any reason for that?”
“My dad’s just a good ol’ southern boy at heart. I see him often, but he doesn’t attend events with me. He watches them if they air on television though,” I lied, playing it off. It was easier that way.
The truth was I saw my father less now than ever. Phone calls were few and far between, and forget about emails, they were non-existent. I sent him money every month to help him get by without so much as a thank you. Sometimes the checks were cashed, other times they weren’t.
It didn’t matter how many plane tickets I’d send him on a whim, for birthdays, holidays, award shows, anything and everything. They’d never get used, and I hadn’t flown back to my home since the last time I witnessed firsthand the consequences for my actions.
He wasn’t even in the audience when I won my first Academy Award or my Golden Globe. On the rare occasions we did talk on the phone, it was mostly short, one-sided conversations. But at least I had peace of mind and could say I was checking up on him, not the other way around.
As the years gathered, collecting one by one, so did my resentment for him. Growing more and more each day. Every time I needed him and he wasn’t there for me, and I wasn’t just talking about the monumental moments.
Keith was still all I had in my life, even more so now. He was my only family and support system, and to this very moment, I’d still be lost without him.
I answered a few more questions for E News, finishing up the last round of pictures before we were ready to head inside.
The manager of the club greeted us and introduced himself, “Hi, Miss Bell. I am Andrew, the GM of the club. If you’d come right this way, I will personally escort you up to your reserved section.” He took my arm in his and led my team and I through the back entrance away from prying eyes down a long empty corridor. My usual bodyguards fell in place, surrounding us, with some extras the club assigned solely for this event. We followed him into a private elevator, up to a reserved, secluded area that took up half of the second floor.
With crystal-clear vision, I scanned the open space from the plush, white leather sofas lining the entire back wall. Set further back from the prying eyes of fans were tables stocked with nothing but the best drugs and finest liquors and mixers money and fame could buy.
My entourage and Eli were already up there, awaiting my presence—drinking, smoking, mingling while I worked before I played. Getting the festitvies started and on their way as the bottle hostesses introduced themselves. Stating they were our exclusive hostesses for the entire night and would get us “anything” we wanted with a nod and a wink. I didn’t have to worry about shit being leaked to the press, not when everyone associated with me had to sign a non-disclosure agreement, including my celebrity friends.
For the next hour, we danced, drank, and partied like we were in our own little bubble. Laughing and living life to the fullest. Money was no object. I had more than I knew what to do with. Thanks to my fame, I had the world at my fingertips and no one said no to me.
But even with all that…
I still felt more alone than I ever had before.
Money, fame, power, they couldn’t buy happiness, love, or the life I really wanted beside the only guy who ever made me feel complete.
I did another two lines of blow, trying to forget about everything besides dancing. Swaying my hips to the beat of the music as I stood against the balcony railing, watching the people dancing below through dilated eyes. Riding the high for as long as I could.
Hours…
Days…
It all blended together.
The crowd in the club got louder, heavier, deeper.
It was warm, but I suddenly felt cold all over, chills stirring down my spine. Closing my eyes, I reeled in the emotions, the feelings, the unforgiving memory that had forever made a home inside my mind. Trying so hard to not let it takeover, but failing miserably at doing so.
I could never fight it and a huge part of me knew I didn’t want to. I could still see it all as if it was happening right now in front of my eyes, right at this very moment, instead of two and a half years ago.
Where I lost everything I ever wanted, but didn’t think I could have until…
It was too late.
TWENTY-NINE
SKYLER
I jumped in my rental car and sped the entire way from the airport to his boat. Swerving and veering through traffic with a heavy heart and a guilty conscience. Going over what I would say in my head, ready to plead for his forgiveness, for his love, for his heart that I felt down to my bones, was still mine. I couldn’t live without him any longer.
Not then.
Not now.
Not ever.
I loved him.
I fucking loved him.
I was finally going to say those three little words he begged me to express over a year and a half ago. At nineteen years old, I finally let go of the notion that my career was everything, my life, but he was more. He’d always been more. I was ready to let him into my world, my secrets, give him everything he ever wanted from me. Praying it wasn’t too late, I wasn’t too late.
Every single day had been another day of sorrow and unrelenting sadness. Another day I had to walk through a life of chaos without him. My boy was gone, leaving nothing but a hollow shell of a woman, a lost girl trailing behind.
Since I left him and moved to L.A., I couldn’t breathe, because he kept my last breath.
My last tear.
My whole heart and soul.
The closer I got to his boat, the more my head raced with thoughts of what to say and how to say it to him. Needing… wanting… to openly show him all my pain and my remorse. All the love I had for him grew with each passing day I’d spent without him. Whatever it took to make him look at me the way he always had.
Always seeing the girl I no longer thought existed.
I didn’t care how we would make it work. Where there’s a will, there’s a way.
And he was my will.
He was my way.
I pulled in at Davidson’s marina and was out the door before fully shifting my car into park. I bolted out of the driver’s seat as fast as I could because all that really mattered was getting to him.
I ran.
I fucking ran for my life that was in that boat. Hauling ass through the parking lot, breathless and winded by the time I stepped onto the deck.
Ready to give him everything left inside of me.
“Noah! Noah, I’m here! Please tell me you’re in there too?!” I questioned out in pure desperation, needing him to know I was finally emotional and mentally in the boat he wanted to make us a home.
Immediately sliding the door open, coming face to face with the damage I’d regrettably done when I left him behind. In two seconds flat, my whole fucking world, the life I yearned for, came crashing down on me.
“Oh my God,” I breathed out, placing my hand over my mouth as I slowly gazed around the demolished space.
All the hours of hard labor he put in for months and months on end, was destroyed. Like he took a sledgehammer to the interior, taking out his anger the only way he knew how. With fresh tears in my eyes, I carefully walked through the destruction on the floor of what used to be his home, our home he was building us.
Trying to take in everything from the splintered wood floors, to the broken shards of glass, crunching under my feet. To the cushion stuffing thrown everywhere, and the fabric torn to shreds like he ripped it open with his bare hands. The light fixtures hung from their sockets with broken bulbs still attached. The kitchen cabinets swung from their hinges, practically falling to the floor. All the custom count
ertops were carved with unreadable script. Except the word…
Nobody.
Before I knew what I was doing, my fingers were tracing the big, bold letters. Smacking me right in the face. Remembering those hurtful words from years ago I once spewed in my trailer. “He’s nobody, alright?! He’s no one to me! Now just let me handle him! Please, Keith! Just go!”
“Oh, god, Noah. What did I do? What the fuck did I do?” I pleaded to no one but myself.
The place looked like a hurricane had torn through it, leaving Noah’s havoc in its path.
It nearly brought me to my knees as I reached the bedroom, where he made love to me. The last place and time I saw him. The door creaked open, revealing the shambles of the room that we lost ourselves inside one another. The mattress was completely overturned, while the white sheets we were tangled in were ripped to shreds. The feathers from the pillows clung to every surface, cut open with a pocket knife by him. Clothes were thrown everywhere around the cabin, hanging from the broken closet doors, and blanketing the shattered mirrors on the ground.
Unable to hold it in any longer, I sobbed uncontrollably into the white shirt he always wore. Gripping onto the only thing that was left of his presence in this safe haven we’d created that night. I searched the cabin for I don’t know what when my glossy eyes stopped on the tool responsible for it all. Just as I thought, there was a sledgehammer sitting on top of the devastation I created. Instantly making me realize this was the last room he destroyed and there might not be any hope for us after all.
I shook my head, feeling disgusted with myself for what I’d put him through. The bile rising in the back of throat with every unforgiving thought that crossed my battered mind. I didn’t deserve his forgiveness, his love, him, but that didn’t stop me from still wanting all of it.
Backing away from the wreckage, I sought refuge in his shirt that I took with me as I left. I drove to his home in a much different state of mind than I’d started with. At the last second, I decided to park my car a few houses down from his ma’s when I noticed his motorcycle was in the driveway. Aware that he more than likely wouldn’t want to see me, not after what I just saw. At this point, the only option I had was to catch him by surprise.
I swallowed hard with each step that brought me closer to his home, and possibly closer to my own demise. Praying he would at least talk to me. Hear me out. Give me a chance to make things right between us. I didn’t care if he only wanted to be my friend, I just needed him to be in my life. My eyes wandered everywhere, trying to drown out the insecurities which had swiftly seized my entire core.
My feet moved on their own accord as soon as I saw him through the open front window and screen door. I hid behind a huge tree by the side of his house, closest to where I could see in, but nobody could see me. Just wanting a minute to take him in, powerless to take my eyes off of him as he moved about the living room.
I closed my eyes for just a second when I heard his husky voice resonate deep within my entire being. Causing old feelings to resurface, stronger than ever. Ready to take me under if needed.
Once I opened my eyes, I found him standing so close yet so far away. Looking out into the yard as if he could feel my heart beating for him. He looked as good as I remembered, standing tall with that mischievous smirk I fell in love with as a young girl. Covered in more tattoos, wearing his cut, and standard combat boots with jeans.
I smiled despite the way I felt inside. Missing him so much.
So, so, so much…
Except it wouldn’t be his warm welcoming arms that wrapped around me this time, devouring me with his comforting musky scent, I loved more than anything.
Taking a deep reassuring breath, I breathed in through my nose and out through my mouth. Shaking off another insecurity. “You can do this, Skyler. Don’t be afraid, you can do this. He loves you. He’s always loved you.” I went to step forward, stopping dead in my tracks when I heard a car door slam shut from the road in front of his house. Turning toward the noise, I immediately froze. A girl I’d never seen before, wearing a long white flowy dress, was walking toward the front door, with what looked like a picture in her hand.
“What the fuck?” I whispered to myself, trying to figure out what the hell was going on.
She knocked on the door, gazing back at the front yard. Like she was watching some sort of memory play out in front of her. I couldn’t help but narrow my eyes and take her in. Instantly noticing how much she resembled me. Her bone structure, the color of her eyes, her pouty lips, her long brown hair, even her figure was petite like mine. This girl could be my sister.
Noah opened the door before I could give it or her anymore thought. Smiling big and wide at her. Showing her the same smile that he always had for me. No one else, but me.
My heart fucking dropped.
I swear I stopped breathing.
Everything played out in slow motion right in front of me. Though at the same time it all happened so damn fast.
He greeted, “Hey, pretty girl,” moving aside to let her in.
Causing her to shyly smile, and look down at the ground as she walked by him.
“I like your dress.” He grinned, eyeing her up and down with that familiar stare that was once only mine.
Is this what it feels like to die?
As soon as their eyes connected, his playful spark shined so fucking bright for her.
Killing me all over again.
“Thanks,” she replied.
With that unforgettable Noah Jameson swagger, he cocked his head to the side and licked his lips. Baiting her. “You get dressed up for me—” A car drove by muffling the rest of what he said.
She smirked. “Don’t flatter yourself, Rebel. I wanted to look nice for your momma.”
I don’t know what killed me more, her calling him Rebel. Him saying that same line, those same exact words to me once. Or the fact that she was meeting his mother. When he never introduced me to her…
After everything we went through together, everything he shared with me, everything I witnessed.
Not. One. Time.
In over four years.
My eyes shut on their own as I leaned my hands and forehead against the side of the tree for support. Feeling like my body was giving out on me. Trying to reel in the emotions that were ruthlessly breaking me.
Bit by bit.
Limb by limb.
Layer by layer.
Stripping me of everything…
Bare.
Exposed.
Vulnerable.
While hiding behind a tree, in front of the man’s house I thought I knew. Now brutally questioning if what we had was real, or if I was just another girl to him. The thought alone made me sick to my stomach, my mind telling me one thing and my heart pleading to believe that I was his everything. Except I was the one who left him. I was the one who pushed him away, and now I was the one watching him move on.
This was my doing.
I did this.
No one else, but me.
“Don’t need to put on a dress to accomplish that,” I heard him say.
Stabbing my heart harder.
Deeper.
Firmer.
Over and over again…
I opened my eyes, continuing to watch my worst fucking nightmare unfold in reality.
She bashfully smiled just for him, her cheeks flushing, replicating the very expression on my face when he would talk to me like that.
But it wasn’t until she sassed, “Are you going to show me around or just stand there and flirt with me?” that I wholeheartedly knew, right then and there, he might be falling for her because he once loved my smartass mouth too.
Placing my hand over my heart, I desperately tried holding it together. Undeniably failing at doing so. The dagger wedged in my heart was twisting, refusing to let me go. The pain unbearable, merciless, never-ending. Swallowing me whole, but never spitting me back out. I couldn’t breathe, gasping for my next breath he was denying me, wi
thout even knowing it.
Suddenly remembering my words from years ago, “I need you to promise me something, okay? Please, please don’t fall in love with me,” wishing I could turn back the hands of time. Warn my past self, tell her what she should have done in order to prevent what was happening now. Save myself from what I was witnessing right before my tear-stained eyes. Hoping things could have been different.
We could have been different.
There was a time and place for everything, and there was always that one instant, that one second, where time just stood still. Though nothing could have prepared me for what happened next.
Not him.
Not me.
Or our love.
He hammered the final nail into my coffin when he confessed, “It ain’t flirtin’ if you’ve already slept with the girl,” Noah teased, but the joke was on me. Because he gently placed his hand on her growing belly, she was hiding under that beautiful white flowy dress this entire time.
Fucking killing me completely.
I thought I left him behind in the room we made love in, realizing for the first time that day, he left me there too.
Ending me.
Ending us.
That night I learned a cruel lesson. Love didn’t come to me as heartbreak, it came to me as everything I’ve ever wanted. Where walking away wasn’t an option, until it became the only choice I had. I made the wrong decision the first time I left him over four years ago when we were almost eighteen, but I sure as hell did the right thing the second time around, when I left him two and a half years ago with her.
Ultimately finding out what the price of fame cost me.
I lost the love of my life the moment he unknowingly showed me he was making a new one with her and their unborn child. Where walking away was the right decision, the only option.
For him.
For us.
For them.
Giving him the chance to have the family he always longed for, the future he always deserved, but never thought he was good enough to have.
Even after everything had been said and done between us, that life didn’t include me. Becoming just another demon that lived inside of my heart.
