by Kahlen Aymes
I couldn't see where I was going as I pulled myself up and tried to leave, each step away from him torture.
I stumbled along the wall, until I found the entrance and out into the street. The cold air hit me in the face but my body was numb; my mind racing and heart aching; I prayed for it to cease beating so the pain would stop.
I don't know how it happened, but somehow I ended up in the back of a cab telling the driver to take me back to LAX so I could catch a flight back to New York. Back to my fucking life before Wendy and Cade ripped it out from under me.
I prayed it was only a nightmare and that I’d wake up from the unbearable pain.
I didn't remember any of the flight, moving through the airports or getting back to the hotel. I didn’t call Jeanne, I didn’t have bodyguards… it was only me alone with the pain.
I was like a zombie until I hit my hotel room, and then it was if a dam burst and I completely lost my mind. I cried and screamed like I'd never done before, clawing at the bed, at my skin, cursing at God and at Cade... until I had no tears left, until my head ached so much I could barely stand it, and until I couldn’t utter another sound.
The pain was physical, tangible... sucking my life away.
My life had ended in thirty seconds.
Over. Just like that.
Dear God, please let me die... because to keep on breathing hurts too fucking much.
OKAY, NOW I was getting worried. Brook told me the day before she'd call before she left New York and it was 6 PM and I hadn't heard a word from her. This day had gone completely to hell from the moment I woke up this morning. My fucking head was pounding like a jackhammer and it hadn't stopped all day. Couple that with ten bloody unanswered phone calls to Brook, and it couldn't get any worse.
I had one hell of a hangover courtesy of the multiple shots of whiskey I’d consumed the night before. So many, I couldn't even remember how in the bloody hell I got back to my flat last night. I was feeling sorry for myself because I couldn't be with Brook, and maybe I'd let it get a little out of hand. I wasn't usually one to go off the deep end but where she was concerned, my emotions ran raw.
The whole night was a bloody blur besides a few highlights, if you could call them that; Wendy annoying the shit out of me at the bar, the loud music endlessly throbbing in my head, signing a few autographs, and a ridiculous amount of drinking.
Brook, I'm getting worried now. Please call me back. I sent a text since she wasn't answering the calls.
In about thirty seconds I would be forced to call Jeanne or Diane to find out what the bloody hell was up. What if something had happened to her? My heart thumped inside my chest, and the panic I'd been fighting all damn day, rose up anew.
I tried to relax and unpack some of the boxes of books and clothes my mother had shipped over from London. Another hour pulsed by at a snail’s pace. I tried to make myself a sandwich, mostly because eating was what I thought that I should do.
Fuck!
I wasn't hungry anyway. This was the longest I'd gone without some sort of contact with Brook since we met. I was going out of my mind with worry.
What the fuck was going on?
I pulled out my phone and dialed Jeanne, Brook's manager. She’d accompanied her to New York, so surely she’d know where my girl was.
"Hello? This is Jeanne." Her voice was a little frantic as she answered.
"Jeanne, its Cade."
"Oh, Cade! Have you heard from Brook?"
"What?” My heart fell. “No! That's why I'm calling, to see if you have. I haven't heard from her since yesterday morning, very early." I felt the bile rise up in my throat.
"Cade, she isn't answering her phone. I spoke with Pat Armstrong and apparently Brook did go to see him this morning, but she's checked out of the hotel and I don't know where she went after that. I thought she'd come home, but Diane hasn't heard from her either. I'm really worried. This isn't like her at all."
My breathing sped up and I paced back and forth across my living room.
"Why aren’t you with her, Jeanne? I thought you went with her?”
“I was. I am. I’m still in New York, but Brook left, she was supposed to fly back early today. It’s a long story.”
“That makes no bloody sense! Someone better tell me what the hell is going on, and fast! I'm out of my mind; worried sick! She never does this. We generally talk several times a day and it's been thirty-six hours since the last conversation. What can I do? Should we call the police? What?"
My heart was beating so fast I felt it would fly right out of my chest and my mind was racing. Why would Brook leave and then come back. I wanted to know the details but I was more concerned with finding her.
"We can't call the police yet. It hasn't been twenty-four hours since someone's seen or heard from her. We have to wait until tonight. You might try calling some of her friends. Maybe David has heard from her." I knew she was grasping at straws, looking for any possibility, but damn it, the mention of his name made my blood boil.
I signed heavily and ran an impatient hand threw my already messy hair. "Okay, I'll call around. If you hear anything, please let me know immediately. When we find her, I’ll expect full disclosure on what fuck went on and why you don’t know where she is!" I felt my throat tighten and the blood rush through my ears.
Jesus Christ, this is a nightmare.
“She’s an adult! She can do what she wants, and I can’t tell you anything she doesn’t want you to know! I’m her manager not yours, Cade.” Jeanne’s voice elevated and I could hear the panic behind her words. She was right. She couldn’t tell me anything Brook didn’t approve.
“This is not some contract detail, it’s about her safety! Find her! I don’t care what it takes!”
When I rang off, I started calling everyone. I even called Wendy who was only too eager to talk to me, but I couldn't get a straight answer out of her.
"I don't know why you're calling me, Cade. Why would I know anything about Brook?"
"Wendy, bloody hell, this is serious, can you just tell me if you've talked to her?"
"I haven’t, but if I do, I'll tell her you're looking for her. You really should get a clue, Cade. If the girl isn't calling you back, she doesn't want to fucking talk to you. Hello?” she said sarcastically. I hated that bloody American slang. “She's probably with David."
Why the hell did I even bother with this bitch, anyway? I should’ve known she wouldn't help me.
I slid down the wall next to my window until I was sitting on my haunches, and waited.
And waited.
I took out Brook's diary and read some of her letters. My chest tightened with emotion as I read her words and my mind raced at what could have happened to her. Was she in an accident, mugged or kidnapped for God's sake? I closed my eyes at the horrible thoughts.
Please God, keep her safe. Bring her back to me.
Three hours later I still hadn't heard a word from her, and five more unanswered calls to Brook's phone. Fuck this, I couldn't just sit here and do nothing.
I called Denise and told her I needed help getting over to Brook's parent's house.
"Cade...," she hesitated.
"What? What Denise? Do you know something? Fucking tell me!"
I was hyperventilating. My hand went involuntarily to my chest and started pulling on the material of my T-shirt.
"She's home. She came in about thirty minutes ago." Denise's voice was strained.
I let out a sigh of relief and covered my eyes with my hand as the tears burned behind them.
"Oh, thank God. What happened and why didn’t Jeanne call me? Is Brook alright? Why didn't she return her calls? Did she lose her phone?" I blasted her with a barrage of questions.
"Cade, where are you? I should come talk to you." She was pensive and hesitant.
"Denise, please just bloody tell me what you want to say. I've been going out of my mind." I knew she could hear the tears in my voice.
"She's sort of... despondent."
"What the hell does that mean?" Why couldn't she just tell me and put me out of my misery?
"She's been crying and she won't talk to anyone. Diane said she locked the door to her room and won't answer when they knock. I'm sorry. I wish I could tell you more." She sucked in a shaky breath and waited for my response.
"Did someone hurt her? Should she go to the hospital? I need to get over there. Now.! Please send the car or I'll drive myself and I won’t give a bloody fuck who sees me." I sat down and dropped my head in my hand over my knees. I could feel my body and my voice shaking.
"Okay, I'll send it. Maybe you should call Jeanne. She might know more now."
"Yeah, thanks." I rang off and my phone vibrated immediately.
It was a text from Brook.
Thank God! My heart leapt in my chest as I opened the message.
Cade, I need you to stop texting and calling. Please.
What? The words on the screen came out at me like a 3-D movie, screaming that my life was over. My heart constricted and I couldn't breathe. This couldn't be happening... how and why was this happening? Was it just a week ago that she came to London for Christmas? And now she didn't want to talk to me?
What the fuck?
The walls were crashing down around me and I didn't know how to save myself. I felt like I was having a heart attack. My breath was coming in rapid gasps, my heart was beating a hundred miles per hour, my chest ached and I felt every inch of my skin burn. I was on fire.
I had to get over there and talk to her. Had to find out what happened. Had to wake up from this nightmare. I sat in a daze, glancing at the time over and over until the car Denise sent arrived.
When I finally got to her house, Brook's mom answered the door and I rushed through it without waiting for her to invite me in.
"You have to let me talk to her. I don't know what's going on, but this is not happening. I'm... ” I paused for less than a second as I struggled to find the words to describe the feelings inside me. “…fucking dying, Diane." I grabbed her shoulders as tears welled in my eyes and my throat ached. "Why is she doing this?"
Diane’s arms came around me and I couldn't stop the tears from flowing. "I don't know how this is happening. Oh God... is she leaving me?" Her arms tightened around me as I completely lost it.
"Cade, we don't know what's wrong with her. I've tried to talk to her and she won't say anything. The only sound coming out of her room is her crying; sometimes sobbing. Brook is a very strong person so I've learned to leave her alone when she has something to deal with, and she eventually comes around and tells me what is bothering her. Maybe that's what we need to do now."
I had so much emotion rushing through me I barely heard what she said. I pulled back from her and she brushed the tears from my cheek.
"This can't be happening. I have to try to talk to her. Please. I love her so much." I knew my words sounded desperate and frantic, very unlike me, but I was drowning and completely out of control of myself. "Just... please!"
"Oh, honey. I'm sorry you're hurting, Cade. Maybe this isn’t even about you."
I pulled away from her and shook my head. “No, it is. She sent a text asking me not to contact her. But I have to talk to her, Diane.” Our eyes met and pain flashed across her face, her mouth opening and closing. She had no idea how to respond.
"I just have to try. I need to find out what is going on," I said again.
I walked away from her and took the stairs to Brook's room two at a time. The door was shut and I could hear her crying softly on the other side of the door. My hand hovered on the wood and I rested my forehead against it, drawing in a deep breath.
"Brook. Please let me in." Her sobbing increased on the other side of the door.
"Go away, Cade. I beg you. Just... leave."
I closed my eyes against the ache in her voice. The pain her words caused in my heart was unbearable.
"No! Open the door. What is going on?”
“G-Go away, I d-don’t want to t-talk to you.” Her words came out breathy and broken.
“Brook! Open the fucking door! Why are you doing this?" I took a shaky breath and tried to calm down; knowing blowing up at her wouldn’t get her to talk to me. "Babe... let me in. I love you and I know you love me, Brook. I can't leave, not without ripping my heart out." The tears ran silently down my cheeks as I slid down the door to the floor. "Please, Brook.” I waited thirty seconds and she didn’t respond but the intensity of her crying increased. “Brook! Jesus Christ."
"I'm not... strong enough to talk to you right now. I can't look at you. Please. Just go." Her voice was barely a trembling whisper that I struggled to hear.
I felt like a steel band was constricting my chest as I struggled for breath. I knew she could hear the tears in my voice as much as I could hear them in hers.
"Brook, please. Don't... don't do this. I feel like I'm literally suffocating. You have to tell me what this is about."
"Fucking leave, Cade, okay? I'm already dead. You fucking killed me. Just leave." Her sobs were louder, rougher, ripping from her chest.
I started like she'd shot me. My heart was breaking, my body shaking as I wrapped my hands around my knees and let the tears overtake me, my body racked with emotion. The helplessness I felt to stop my world from spiraling out of control, completely overwhelming me. I was lost.
What the fuck did I do? I struggled to figure out what could have happened. If I lost her, my life was over. How can I stop this from happening? My mind screamed.
I sat there for hours, leaning against her door until the sun came up. There were no more sounds coming from her room, and she'd stopped answering me when I tried to talk to her. I finally got up off of the floor and walked down the stairs in a daze. I felt dead inside, numb, my chest a hollow shell. My eyes were swollen and tired. I was bloody exhausted.
Diane came out of the kitchen when she heard me on the stairs and hugged me. I barely moved, my arms limp at my sides. She was crying. "I'm sorry, Diane. I don't know what for, but I'm so sorry. You have to believe me when I tell you that I love her more than my own life... The last thing I'd ever want to do is hurt her. Please call me if things change and she wants to see me." Then I walked out the door for the last time. The car was still waiting. If there were paparazzi around, if cameras were flashing, I didn’t notice.
IT WAS MID-FEBRUARY and I read online that Cade had been asked to present at the Academy Awards two days before our Tokyo premiere. He emailed, texted, or called every day for a month after I got back from New York, but I didn’t answer any of them. I was still too fragile to even open the email and I'd finally had to block his texts. It was the hardest thing I'd ever had to do, but seeing his sweet words on the phone and then having flashbacks of Wendy's smug expression as she stood in the doorway to his apartment were just too much to bear.
Finally, he stopped trying. It was a mixed bag of emotions for me when that happened. I was relieved but I was miserable too. Every day it hurt. The minutes and seconds ticked by... each one screaming that it was taking me further and further away from Cade.
David came over a couple of times, and after I'd finally convinced him that I didn't want to talk about Wendy or Cade, it was somewhat comforting to have him around. He was familiar and I could pretend my life was normal for a while. He didn't say “I told you so”, he just hung out, and sometimes, held me when I needed to cry. I didn't tell anyone why I was so sad, or what happened, not even Nathan. It made it easier to deal if I could pretend it never happened and to do that, no one could know. I put on a good front and went about my life as best I could, but I wasn't really me. I was hollow, a shell of myself.
My mom tried to ask me about it, but when I told her I just needed to deal with it in my own way, she never pressed me again. Jeanne, too. She was pissed at me for disappearing from New York, but after I'd secured the film with Patrick Armstrong, all I wanted was to be alone. I always did what was expected of me but after that I needed to disappear into mysel
f for a while.
Two weeks after the night Cade came over, Jeanne told me he went back to London and as far as I knew, he hadn't been back to the States at all since.
Somewhere between then and now, I'd faced the realization that I was always going to love him. I was struggling with it, but there was nothing I could do to change it. Trying to stop was like trying to stop breathing. I couldn't live without breathing and I knew I couldn't live without loving Cade.
So how was I going to deal with it? Could I forgive the night with Wendy? Could I forget it?
I missed him. I missed him so much I ached with it, but I was scared, too. I found myself listening to songs we listened to together and remembering all of the beautiful times we'd shared. I longed for him so much I was overcome with it.
Could we go back to the way we were? Would Cade still want that now? How would I ever be able to let him touch me without thinking of him sleeping with Wendy? My skin flushed with heat at the thought of it. My heart plummeted. There had been pictures of him and Wendy a couple of times, and despite Jeanne’s coaching that paparazzi pictures and the stories connected with them were false ninety-nine percent of the time, it still hurt. What happened still hurt so fucking much, but not as much as living without him. Jesus, I was so screwed up.
No, I couldn't go back to the way we were, but I desperately needed to find a way to keep him in my life. Maybe he didn't want me in his anymore. I had to face that was a possibility now after the way I'd shut him out.
I took a deep breath and put my head back on my pillows. Maybe if I wrote him a letter and tried to explain how I felt, maybe he would still want to be friends... or something. I decided that was the safest route; try to be friends in Tokyo. Then we'd have some time to acclimate to being around each other before Don’t Forget to Remember Me started filming. I also had to come to terms with the fact that maybe he was with Wendy now, and I'd have to watch that shit go down. No. It hurt too much to think it, so I wouldn't believe that unless I came face to face with it on set. I’d have to see evidence of it with my own eyes… that hope kept a thread of sanity for now.
