Eternally Bound

by T. A. DeMellet

  “My, um… my ribs are still healing. They’re quite tender,” I said lamely. I couldn’t believe how changed I was. I no longer desired her or found her as irresistible as I once did. All I could do was imagine the dark-haired beauty I so longed to meet. But Ava persisted. She grabbed my hands and placed them on her breasts.

  “Mmm… yes Damien, touch me.”

  “Ava, come on. I’m not in the mood right now.” I pulled my hands away. I was tired of trying to spare her feelings. She could get pissed for all I cared. I wasn’t going to do anything with her right now.

  “You don’t want me?” she said panting, trying to hide the anger in her eyes. “You’re pretty much healed, so what’s the problem?”

  “Nothing, it’s just that I wasn’t expecting you back so soon, for one. And secondly, I wake up to find you straddling me and that kind of freaked me out, okay?”

  “Damien, do you have any idea how many men fantasize about waking up to find me on top of them,” she said angrily, putting her bra back on. She hopped off of me, whipping her long blond hair in my face and walking towards the desk. I noticed her shirt was draped across the top of it. I silently prayed she hadn’t gone through my phone while I had been asleep.

  Watching her shrug back into her shirt, I had to admit she was beautiful. The guy in me couldn’t deny it. Her body was outrageous. Like she arrogantly stated, she was undoubtedly the fantasy of most men.

  “Listen, Ava, I’m sorry,” I said. Knee-jerk reaction. I just couldn’t be mean to a girl. I wasn’t raised that way.

  “Whatever, Damien,” she puffed. I had wounded her ego.

  “Look, I’ve actually been wanting to talk to you for a while about something. Maybe now is a good time, since we are alone?”

  “Are you trying to break up with me? ME?!” she asked, horrified.

  “Not exactly… no,” I was faltering. I needed to get back on track. “I want to know, are happy being with me? Do you feel like this is a fulfilling relationship?” God, I sounded like such a idiot.

  “Ugh! Of course I’m happy with you Damien. Hello? Have none of my marriage hints even registered with you? I want to be with you, and I wouldn’t have just seduced you if I didn’t desire you. You’re totally my type; you’re gorgeous and we are both ambitious, successful celebrities. And don’t think I don’t realize that you’re every girl’s dream too,” she shouted, throwing her hands up in the air.

  “Is that all you care about? That we are desirable people with celebrity status? Do you honestly think that we should be together because we look good together?” As I asked, I already knew the answer. Image was everything to her. All her hints about marriage - it was nothing more than a way to secure our image.

  “No, not entirely. I mean, that’s part of it, yes, but I also love you. I think we should be together because we have good chemistry and, well…I know what this is! There really is someone else, isn’t there? I can’t believe you, Damien! If it’s not this Madelyn person, than who is it? Is it that stupid bitch, Carrie Steadman? God, the tabloids were right for once.” She started ranting and rambling, pacing back and forth along the windowed-wall behind my desk.

  “No, Ava, I’m not with anyone else,” I said carefully, standing up from the couch and planting myself in front of the desk. “The tabloids are wrong, as they usually are. I had lunch with Carrie after we wrapped up on set, but that was it. I’ve already explained that to you many times.”

  “Listen Damien, I’m gorgeous, I’m rich, and I have quite a bit of pull in this town, and if you don’t want that in your life, then it’s your loss. I can’t believe you would break up with me!”

  “Will you calm down!?” I said, slamming both hands against the desk’s surface in frustration. “I am trying to have a civilized conversation with you, but you are so damn shallow that you can’t see beyond your own self importance. Pretend for one second that you are just a girl and I am just a guy, and we are in a relationship that isn’t working out. Forget everything else, okay?” I was starting to get worked up myself. She was infuriating. Her sense of entitlement and her focus on fame and popularity was such a turn off.

  “Not working out? So tell me Damien, how long have you been unhappy? You know, if we are going to be completely honest, it hasn’t been wonderful all the time for me either,” she retorted.

  “Ava, come on, I know you’ve been feeling it too. We’ve been drifting apart these last few months,” I said sincerely. She finally stopped pacing and looked at me. Perhaps it was my imagination, but I thought I saw the faintest glimmer of relief pass through her eyes. The silence stretched between us for a few long moments. Finally, she nodded slightly and folded her arms across her chest. She didn’t say anything, but I knew she had to be feeling the same way. I took the fact that her mouth was pressed in a hard line, as a sign that I could continue talking.

  “It’s better this way; better that we both realize it’s over rather than forcing it to work. We shouldn’t force ourselves to stay together because it looks good. We both deserve better than that.”

  “Sure. Whatever you say, Damien.” She grabbed her gaudy, oversized designer purse and slung it over her shoulder. She stomped over to the door and opened it, pausing only to turn and say:

  “You’ll regret this someday, Damien. Your name will be ruined in this town, I’ll make sure of it.” Then she stormed out. She was so childish. I had hoped we could end things in a civilized manner. I guess I should’ve known Ava would react this way. It was always her way or no way at all. I quickly grabbed my cell phone and stashed it in my pocket before leaving my study to let Bentley know dinner plans were cancelled. In my haste, I completely forgot about the documents Nick asked me to sign.

  CHAPTER 11

  MADELYN

  I stepped out of the shower and grabbed my aqua-colored towel hanging on the hook. As I dried my hair, I wondered if Damien had received the message I sent him yesterday. I would have to check Twitter (for the tenth time) to see if he wrote me back. I went through my nightly routine, slathering on lotions and such, thinking again of how much this insane connection with him had affected my life. Being so consumed with Damien, and everything that I had discovered during the reading with Madam Yelena was certainly preventing me from meeting someone else. Perhaps trying to contact him was a wasted effort. My heart clenched at the thought of “letting go” of Damien. Somewhere deep inside me, I knew I couldn’t release him from my mind or my life that easily. I could feel that he and I were somehow meant to know each other – as impossible as it seemed.

  I unplugged my phone from its charger intending on checking my Twitter account for messages, but found a missed call instead. It was from an unknown, out of state number. Could it have been Damien? I switched over to my Twitter app and checked. No message. I stifled the oncoming excitement, telling myself the missed call was probably a telemarketer. Hopefully he would respond, or at the very least, whoever managed his social media accounts would alert him to this odd message from the girl he recently “met”.

  I went to bed early. My body felt tired and achy, and I restlessly tossed and turned all night, never finding comfort - wishing and praying for sleep to find me.

  CHAPTER 12

  DAMIEN

  “I’m gonna call her, Bentley. Today. I called her yesterday, but I got her voicemail and I didn’t leave a message, so it doesn’t really count, right? I mean, why would she return a call from an unknown number? She’s in Florida, so she’s three hours ahead. It’s like 11 am there - a perfectly acceptable time to call,” I rambled on. I sounded like a lunatic. Why was I so nervous?

  “Um, yes, perfectly acceptable. I think you’ve convinced yourself to call her already. It’s as good a time as any, Damien,” Bentley said, staring at me with the puzzled expression he now reserved for the many times I’ve mentioned Madelyn to him over the last 15 hours. Since Ava stormed out of here last night before dinner, Bentley and I enjoyed the fruits of his culinary labor, just the two of us, and we consum
ed the entire bottle of wine he bought (which I really enjoyed by the way). I couldn’t help but talk about Madelyn throughout dinner and although I was sure Bentley was up to his ears with my obsession over these dreams, he was kind enough not to say so.

  I had been going back and forth all night about whether or not to try and call her again, but my God, I was nervous. I’d never been this out of sorts over other girls in the past. Not that I considered myself some kind of casanova, but I wasn’t exactly a mumbling idiot around women either. However, this case was different. Madelyn was different. I wanted more than anything to talk to her; hear her voice, but I didn’t know what to say. I had to call her and I didn’t want to put it off much longer. The restlessness was affecting my sanity.

  “Go on, Damien,” Bentley said, picking my cell phone up off the table and handing to me. “Call her up. You have questions you need answered and it seems like she’s got the answers.”

  “You’re right,” I replied, pulling up her number on my phone. I had saved her number in my contacts, almost wondering if in the morning it would magically vanish, but thankfully, it was still there. I pressed the call button and took a deep breath. Bentley gave me a thumbs-up and left the room.

  As the phone rang, my heart began racing. I started pacing back and forth, anxiously waiting for her to answer. My throat felt so dry, I could barely swallow.

  “Hello?” She answered. Her voice…it was her voice, the voice I’d heard in my head and in the dream realm so many times.

  “Hello?” Madelyn said a second time.

  “Hi Madelyn,” I paused, bewildered. “I can’t believe I’m actually talking to you.”

  “Who is this?” she asked.

  “It’s me, Damien. Damien Pierce. I received your message yesterday and tried calling you last night, but it must have been late. I didn’t take into account the time difference when I called.”

  ::silence::

  “Are you still there?” I asked. I was afraid she would suspect this was some sort of prank and hang up.

  “Yes,” she whispered.

  “Am I catching you at a bad time? Do you have a minute to talk?”

  “Yes, I do. Can you hold on a moment, please,” she said. I heard noises like she was bustling around on the other end and then I heard the sound of a door closing.

  “I’m sorry. Thanks for waiting. I can’t believe you actually called,” she said breathlessly.

  “Of course I would call. I was beyond thrilled when I got your message yesterday. Thank you for sending it. It was brilliant. I’m really glad you reached out to me or else I would have no way of ever finding you,” I told her. She was silent once again, and as the seconds ticked by, my heart began racing once again. I wasn’t sure what to say or what we should even talk about.

  Finally I broke the silence, “Madelyn, I know we don’t know each other and this is all so crazy…” I wasn’t sure exactly how to finish my thought.

  She cleared her throat. “I’m sorry. I’m stunned, that’s all. Thank you so much for calling me. I’m really glad you got my message. I didn’t know what else to do, but I felt compelled to reach out to you. I wanted you to know that I was, in fact, someone real and I wanted to find out if you’ve been experiencing the same things I have.”

  “Well, you have no idea how grateful I am that you are real. I honestly felt I was going insane; like you were just a figment of my imagination. The time we spend together in those dreams is always so short that I feared I would never get the information I needed to find you.”

  “This is so surreal…” she whispered again.

  “Trust me, I know. My friend, Bentley, thinks I need to see a voodoo doctor. When I told him about the dreams he was fine, but once I started in on the visions…” I said, chuckling.

  “Wait, you’ve been having visions too? While you’re still awake?” she interjected.

  “Yes, that’s what happened the other day when I got into a car accident. Now the whole country thinks I have an alcohol problem,” I explained. It was crazy to think that a week ago today I had been in a car accident because of a vision involving this woman, and here I was actually talking to her.

  “The visions are becoming more and more intense for me. I was fully awake when I witnessed your car accident. I saw your car twisted around a tree,” Madelyn explained.

  “You saw me crash my car? How is that even possible?”

  “I’m not sure, but that was the first night I began having these episodes, or visions. I don’t know what to call them or what they mean, but they are starting to happen more frequently. Is it like that for you too?” she asked.

  “It does feel like it’s occurring more often than before. To be honest, when I am not having these dreams and visions, my days are consumed with thoughts of you and when I’ll be able to ‘see’ you again.” I wondered if I should have admitted that so soon, but at this point there was no reason to hold back.

  “I know what you mean,” she said, shyly. “My friend Emily coerced me into meeting with a psychic last week; a surprisingly gifted woman by the name of Madame Yelena, who believes our souls are quite possibly the reincarnated souls of two people who lived God-knows when. Apparently, theirs was a love so strong, that now their souls are reaching out to find one another,” she explained. I took a moment to process what she was saying.

  “I know how crazy that sounds. It took me a while to wrap my head around it all, but so far, it’s the only thing that’s come close to answer. I’m definitely the skeptical type, so this reading threw me for a loop,” she said.

  “How can any of this be possible...” I trailed off in hopes that muddling through this unbelievable explanation would somehow clear it up. Listening to a psychic about a past life and lost love sounded like the plot of a romance novel, but I had no other ideas as to what was causing these bizarre dreams and visions. Could this be why I was yearning to be with someone I never even knew existed? I certainly felt an inexplicable connection to this woman... I snapped back to reality and realized that neither one of us had spoken for a good while.

  “Madelyn, I think you and I should meet. Maybe if we meet face to face, it will help bring things to light. The problem is, if I come to you, the paparazzi will follow me. They’ll have a field day with this. If you come to me, however, it might be easier.”

  “You want to meet me? Really? But you have a girlfriend, right? Aren’t you still dating Ava Richardson? Does she know about these dreams you’re having? I mean, I’m not sure if I can go to LA right now…” Madelyn rambled.

  “I would really like it if you came out here. If you pick the dates you are available, I will send you the airline ticket. And as far as Ava is concerned, she and I are no longer together.”

  “Oh,” she said. After a few moments of silence, she continued, “I think you’re right, Damien. We should meet in person and see if it helps put some of the pieces of this mystery into place.”

  It sounded so good hearing her say my name. It was amazing whenever she whispered it in dreams, but talking to her in real life was different. I wasn’t prepared for the emotions that were opening up inside me. “So, how soon do you think you can come out here?”

  “I might be available this weekend,” she said after a short pause. “I may even be able to get Friday off. I don’t ever take time off, so I’m sure my boss won’t have a problem with it, but it will most likely only be Friday through Sunday because of how busy we are trying to finish a design project. Is that alright?” she asked.

  “Yes. For now anyway,” I said, smiling. I heard her giggle softly and my smile grew a bit wider. It was such a sweet sound.

  “I hate to do this, since talking to you seems too good to be true and I don’t want it to end, but I actually have to get back to work,” she said. “Will you call me again? I mean, I completely understand if you’re busy and you can’t call, though. Thank you for calling me to begin with… ” She was rambling nervously again.

  “Madelyn, it has been amazi
ng talking to you. I’d really like to call you again, and I’m not always as busy as one might think. I actually have quite a bit of down time in between filming and such. Can I call you tonight when you get off work?” I did not want our conversation to end and I hoped I wasn’t coming off as desperate. Was calling her twice in one day too much? I couldn’t help myself though. I wanted as much of her as I could get.

  “Tonight would be perfect, and I should be home by seven,” she replied.

  “Excellent. I’ll talk to you later.”

  “Bye, Damien,” she said in that seductive whisper I’d heard many times in the dreams we shared together.

  “Goodbye, Madelyn.” I reluctantly hung up the phone. The prospect of getting to meet her in the flesh four or five days from now brightened my mood considerably.

  CHAPTER 13

  MADELYN

  “Oh. My. God,” I said aloud as I put the phone down. Did that just happen? Did Damien Pierce actually call me? And he wants to meet me? I felt like I was going into shock. My mind was still trying to process the fact that he and I had just spoken on the phone, and I was simultaneously petrified and delighted at the prospect of meeting him. My emotions were all over the place.

  Maybe I should call Madame Yelena and tell her about my conversation? I wonder what she would have to say? Of course, all my wondering would have to wait because Ms. Lillian Matthews herself walked passed my door, summoning me into her office.

  “Coming!” I shouted as I watched her silhouette pass by. I was on her heels when she whirled around and faced me.

  “Maddie dear, I know you’re up to your eyeballs with the MacMahon project, but I have to leave town unexpectedly tonight. Completely unforeseen circumstances. Anyway, I need a favor. Call the upholsterer and tell him that we need Mrs. Steinberg’s chair reupholstered in this fabric here,” she said, handing me a swatch of luxurious chenille fabric. “Apparently, she isn’t happy with the fabric she chose for the chair, even though I told her countless times that it would clash and didn’t fit my design scheme. But she insisted, and now she has to pay to have it reupholstered. C’est la vie! Thank you, Madelyn!” And with that, Lillian was out the door; her shiny black stilettos pounding fiercely with every step.