Away From the Spotlight

by Tamara Carlisle

  "That's not true. You're everything that matters to me." I tried to sound as convincing as I could.

  "I just think you would be better off with someone else," he said solemnly.

  “You can’t mean that. It’s not true anyway. We belong together.”

  “It shouldn’t be this hard for you. I think we need to rethink things.” This was the same term used this morning by my firm and I didn’t like the sound of it.

  “What do you mean?”

  “I think we should reconsider our relationship.”

  Now, I was getting really worried. “What do you mean? We’re going to be married.”

  “I don’t think we should.”

  “You’re breaking up with me?” I started to sob.

  “Yes, I guess I am.” His voice showed no emotion.

  “Why?” Mine was thick with emotion.

  “I’m not good for you.”

  "What about what’s good for you?"

  "I'm not the issue."

  "How can you not be the issue? Don't you care?"

  "If I didn't care, I wouldn't be doing this."

  "No, if you did care, you wouldn't be doing this. If you loved me even half as much as I love you, you couldn't leave me."

  "That's not true, but it doesn't matter. I have to let you go." His tone of voice was resolute.

  "Don't do this," I pleaded between sobs.

  "I have to."

  "I can't believe you're breaking our engagement and over the phone."

  "If I saw you again, I don't know if I could do this."

  "Then don't.”

  "I'm sorry," he said with a dead voice, still devoid of emotion.

  "No, you're not. What do you expect me to do now?"

  "I expect you to be happy."

  "And what if I can't without you?"

  "I think you can. You have to."

  I started to cry hard.

  Emotion seeped back into his voice as he said, "I'm sorry, Shannon. I'll love you always. Goodbye." He hung up.

  I stared at the phone in disbelief. My denial phase was short-lived and I soon became enraged. How could he do this to me? How could he be so callous and unfeeling? Then I got even angrier as I realized that everything I thought we had been to each other was a lie. He didn't really love me and never had. It had all been a nasty trick and, because I had deluded myself into believing that my love was requited, I was going to suffer for it.

  I wasn't going to let him get away with this. I was still living in his house and he was going to be coming home in a few days for a three-day break from shooting. I would ambush him then.

  In the two days between our "break up" and Will's scheduled return, I didn't say a word about what had transpired to Stephen, Colin and the girls. Apparently, Will didn't either because they didn't act like anything had changed.

  When Thursday night arrived, I was anxious to see Will, but he didn't come home as scheduled. I called to find out what was happening. Will didn’t answer. I then texted him. "R U coming home? I want 2 talk. ILY."

  He responded quickly and we began to text in rapid-fire succession. "No. I don't want 2 talk. I'm not coming home. It's over 4 us."

  "I'm still here @ ur house w8ing 4 u."

  "Don't."

  "How can u b so cruel?"

  "I'm not trying 2 b, but I need u 2 take what I said seriously. I want u to b happy w/out me."

  "PLEASE. I'll do anything if you just don't do this."

  "There's nothing u can do. It's the way it has 2 b. I want u 2 b happy."

  "But I can't b happy w/out u."

  "I think u can't b happy w/me."

  "Ur wrong. Come home & we can talk about it."

  "Not coming home. Staying here til shoot over, then going 2 London. Don't w8 4 me. Get on w/ur life. B happy. PLEASE."

  "U won't even talk 2 me or c me?"

  "No."

  "I'll leave then. I can't believe ur doing this."

  "I'm sorry. Please know I will always care about u & want u 2 be happy. Take care of urself."

  "I'm 2 angry & hurt 2 b able 2 return the sentiment."

  "I'm sorry. Got 2 go. B happy."

  I could feel a black hole swallow me up. I cried so loudly that I must have been heard in the other room. There was a knock at the door. It was Kate.

  "Shannon, are you okay?"

  I quieted. "Yes." My answer came in broken sobs.

  "Can I come in?" She didn't wait for an answer and walked in the door to find me a total wreck, beet red, makeup running and completely devastated.

  "Oh my God! What happened?" She came over to give me a hug.

  "Will broke up with me." I started crying again as I held her.

  "What?" She was incredulous.

  "The other night, Will called and broke up with me. I was hoping to talk him out of it when he came home tonight, but he's not coming. He says he won't be coming home for a long time and that it's over."

  "I can't believe that." Her eyes were wide in disbelief.

  "I've got the texts to prove it." I waved my cell phone.

  "That can't be. What happened?"

  "I made the mistake of telling him that my firm was unhappy with all the chaos surrounding me and that I might have to find another job if I can't quiet things down. Will decided that I would be better off without him, and broke off our engagement and our relationship."

  "He can't mean that," Kate said in a soothing voice and hugged me again.

  "He does. I always knew that there was no way he could love me and I was right." I cried harder.

  "That's not true. I know he loves you. He's just beating himself up."

  "Not just himself. He's killing me as well," I said as I continued to sob.

  She leaned away and grabbed my hand. "Come on out into the living room with us. We'll get your mind off this for now. I'm sure that things will be different in the morning."

  "I don't think so."

  I followed Kate as she dragged me by the hand into the living room to face the others, who stared at me aghast when they saw me. Kate explained what had happened since I was not in much shape to reiterate it. Stephen got up and walked away. Kate went to the refrigerator to get me some cider, and Gemma and Colin flanked me on the couch with their arms around me.

  "This is all a misunderstanding. I'm sure it will get cleared up. You'll see." Gemma tried to appear cheerful.

  I was silent as they attempted to change the subject to get my mind off of things. They started to tell stories about the wacky director they were working with, but it didn't help much. My mind was still too occupied with whether there was any way that this couldn't be happening to me.

  Stephen returned after a while and didn't look too happy. Kate asked him what was wrong and regretted it when she realized what he had just done. He wouldn't respond.

  "You just talked to Will, didn't you?" I asked somberly.

  "Yes." He looked down like he didn't want to volunteer any further information.

  "And?" I asked, hopeful, but knowing that nothing could have changed in the last fifteen minutes or so.

  “I tried to talk him out of it, told him he was acting crazy, but he said that he loved you too much to continue to hurt you.”

  “Doesn’t he realize that he’s hurting me far more by doing this?” Tears fell uncontrollably from my eyes.

  “For some reason, he seems to think the opposite. He thinks he’s doing the right thing by you.”

  “He’s wrong.”

  “I know. He’ll come around. Stay with us and maybe we can help you figure this out.”

  “I don’t think he’d want me to be here.”

  “Don’t worry about that,” Stephen said and patted my arm.

  They turned on a light comedy to try and cheer me up when they realized that talking about things was only going to make me feel worse. I couldn’t tell you the name of the film or what it was about, caught up in my thoughts as I was. I feigned sleepiness when it was over and headed to the bedroom. They s
aid their goodnights and told me that they would see me the next morning.

  Not for long. I returned to Will’s room for the last night.

  Up all night, I thought about what I had to do. I couldn’t very well stay in his house with his friends. It was too painful. I would need to rip off the band-aid so to speak and leave immediately. Since I still had most of my stuff in storage, I didn’t have much to pack. By the time I heard stirring in the family room in the morning, I was packed, showered and dressed, and ready to go to work. I left the dresses from England in their garment bags in the closet along with the shoes and purses. I made sure that there was little trace that I had been there other than the fact that there were empty drawers and closet space where my things had been.

  It was Stephen who was up when I walked into the living room, carrying my bags. He was astonished to see that I was leaving.

  “Don’t go, Shannon. I told you we would figure something out. Will can’t be that foolish for long.”

  “I don’t think I could bear to be here without him and knowing that I’m going to have to leave sooner or later. Better it be sooner.”

  “I’m sorry and I understand.” Stephen frowned.

  “I have a few things for you to keep safe and return to Will.” I handed Stephen my engagement ring, my diamond necklace, and the diamond earrings.

  “I’m sure he didn’t intend for you to return these things.”

  “What am I going to do with them? I’m not engaged anymore and to wear any of this will only serve as a painful reminder.”

  Stephen nodded in understanding and took the items. He gave me a hug and walked me outside.

  “You will continue to visit us, I hope. You’re part of our little group now.”

  “I will,” I lied and I think Stephen knew I was lying at that moment. It would hurt too much for me to see them. I was even sadder as I realized that I was losing a lot more than just Will in this mess. I was losing my way of life for the last six months and some very good friends.

  Stephen hugged me after helping me load my trunk in front of the audience outside the house. He smiled sadly and waved as I drove away through the crowd.

  Chapter Forty-One

  The paparazzi stopped following me almost immediately. I don’t know whether it was because of something Will had done, the fact that I was no longer living at Will’s house and wearing my engagement ring, or both. The partners in my firm breathed a sigh of relief as the chaos subsided. I felt nothing, not even curiosity as to why I finally was being left alone.

  I spent the first two weeks or so after leaving Will’s behaving like a zombie. I had no animation whatsoever. I was numb. I didn’t really cry. My friends were worried about me, but when asked, I said that I was fine. They didn’t believe me, but they let it go for fear of upsetting me.

  I moved around between friends’ apartments while I looked for a place of my own. I didn’t want to be in anyone’s way. I still had only my stuff from the summer and Rachael kept most of it for me, while I used an overnight bag as I moved around.

  I quickly found a newer one-bedroom apartment in West L.A. that would do to fit my furniture, my main criteria in an apartment other than relative location. The apartment was part of a ten-unit three-story light-blue Cape-Cod looking building, where the first story was underground parking. The entrance gate was located on the north side of the building and opened into a long walkway containing the doors or stairways to the various units.

  It was only after my furniture arrived in my new place and I realized that I was completely alone that the numbness started to wear off. As I lay in my bed in which I hadn’t slept in months and hadn’t slept in alone for a few months before that, I realized that I was now truly alone. On this first night in my own place, I cried for the first time since that awful night. I started to feel again like I was in a black hole and I didn’t know any way out of it.

  For the first time since Will and I broke up, I ached for sex and became angry that I was going to have to live in the Sexual Sahara while he likely was out enjoying the field. He would have a lot of opportunity. I, with my ugly work schedule, would have little opportunity and, even if I did, I was too obviously broken to be of interest to anyone, much less any use to them if they were interested.

  Out of morbid curiosity, I turned on my computer and performed an internet search on “Will MacKenzie.” As usual, there were lots of hits. It didn’t take me long to figure out why I had been left alone. There were numerous articles to the tune of “Will MacKenzie Single Again and Living the High Life.” There were pictures of him looking cozy with at least a dozen different women, many of them actresses I sort of recognized. These photographs reflected that he was really indulging again in the scene as they were taken in front of trendy clubs and restaurants in New York and Las Vegas. Will had a broad smile for the cameras as did the women with him. I felt sick. No wonder I had been left alone by the paparazzi. The fact that I was ancient history was quite clear by Will’s behavior.

  The black hole I was in became deeper and darker. I decided that it wouldn’t be a good idea for me to be alone like this. For the next several weeks, when I wasn’t working a late night, my friends took me out in rotation, avoiding any place that would remind me of Will. I had a schedule that made sure that I would never spend another evening alone in my apartment with my thoughts. Notwithstanding, I was never really able to climb out of that black hole. The absence of color in my life remained.

  Some of my friends took me out to bars and clubs, hoping to help me meet someone else. I was set up on a few dates. Nothing came of any of it. As I had seemed more attractive when I was in love, I was the opposite now, a wounded animal that was neither attractive nor a lot of fun to be around. It was an interesting paradox that the more I needed someone to fill the massive gaping hole that Will had left, the less likely it was going to happen. I felt unattractive and unlovable, and my depression deepened.

  Of course, I now knew with absolute certainty that Will was not sitting home alone. Of course, he won’t be feeling lonely. I started to get angry at the injustice of it all. He breaks my heart, and I’m the one who goes home alone every night!

  I believe that John was hopeful that I would turn to him, but I did not. John tried to give me every opportunity at first, offering a listening ear and hugging me when I cried. I was not up for a relationship and he was too good a friend for me to use him. Besides, after all the drama in the relationship between Will and me, I didn’t want the drama of an office romance, which would be seriously frowned upon by the partners in the firm. I had already had enough trouble with them when I started as it was.

  Not long after my break-up with Will, I attended a Dodger play-off game with Max, Daniel and John. I was even more miserable than the last time I had gone to a game with them early on in my relationship with Will.

  I sat flanked by John and Daniel with Max on the other side of Daniel in the loge seats just beyond first base. I had my arms folded in front of me whenever I wasn’t holding my beer, thinking about that other game. The difference was that my unhappiness then was only the result of a misunderstanding. Not this time. This time, Will and I really are over. I wouldn’t go home to calls and texts from Will. I wouldn’t be seeing Will the next night and probably not ever again. My mood was sullen and the guys’ efforts to cheer me were useless as a result.

  John sat as close to me as he could, considering the seats, almost leaning into my seat, and was definitely violating my personal space. He made a few attempts to hold my hand, but I was a little too quick for him and he settled for rubbing my left thigh from time-to-time. Stopping him from doing that would have led to either hand-holding or causing a scene, so I did nothing. I could see that both Max and Daniel were watching us intently, probably curious as to what would happen. I suspected that they had mixed feelings about this, wanting John to be happy and me as well, but also thinking that an office romance was a really bad idea.

  I got up sometime during the six
th inning to go to the bathroom. I cried a little in private in the stall before coming out and splashing cool water on my face. There was nothing I could do to make the redness go away completely. I figured that I would take a walk before returning to the seats to allow more time to collect myself. I didn’t want the guys to see me this way. No such luck though. When I exited the ladies’ room, I found John waiting for me. It must have been obvious that I had been crying because he pulled me into a tight hug.

  As I pulled away, John took my hand as if he had read my mind in the bathroom and said, “Let’s go for a walk. It might make you feel better.”

  I was dubious, but didn’t object.

  We didn’t speak. I didn’t let go of his hand as he led me around the interior walkway past the concession counters and stands. He pulled me into a walkway that led toward one of the exits, leaned me against the wall and kissed me. I couldn’t pull away since I had my back to the wall. Instead, I burst into tears. In his shock, John leaned away and I ran to the closest ladies’ room.

  When I finally composed myself, I peered out of the bathroom and found, to my relief, that John was not there waiting. Embarrassed that I had handled things so poorly, I knew that I had to return to the seats, but I had no idea what I would say or do once I got there.

  John was back in his seat when I returned, sitting as far away from my seat as he could and appeared deep in thought. He didn’t speak to me for the rest of the game. Max and Daniel noticed this and looked unhappy as a result. Aren’t I just the life of the party? The four of us were quiet for the rest of the game and left at the bottom of the eighth inning to try to avoid some of the traffic. The Dodgers were clearly winning anyway.

  John and I sat in the back of Max’s car on the way back to the office. John again sat far away from me, virtually pressed up against the door of the car.

  “I’m sorry,” I whispered, hoping that Max and Daniel couldn’t hear.

  John relaxed a little and nodded at me. He stopped leaning against the opposite side of the car, but didn’t move closer to me. He also didn’t smile as if he understood that I was apologizing for reacting poorly, but was not inviting him to kiss me again.