by Dylan Allen
I need to sit down.
I start looking around for a place to sit and I know I need to move out of the way. I know I need to respond. I need to get to him.
“Addie?”
“Simon, I’m in New York.”
He chuckles. Tears, hot and unbidden, flow freely down my cheeks. I am jubilant and laugh with him.
“Baby, I know. I meant, where are you right now?”
“I’m on the corner of 5th Avenue and 42nd Street”
“Perfect. Can you cross to the library?”
“What?” I feel like I’ve just had two shots of tequila and a bottle of wine in ten minutes—my brain is slow to catch up. Leaving me confused.
But I do what he says because I would do anything he said at this point if it meant I got to keep hearing his voice.
I cross the street and stand in front of the steps of the library.
“I’m here,” I breath into the phone. Despite the freezing December wind and lightly falling snow, I am sweating.
“Simon, what’s going on? Where are you?”
A pair of strong arms I would know anywhere wrap around my waist from behind. And I feel hot breath on my ear as Simon whispers, “I’m right behind you, Adelaide.”
All at once, I feel a smorgasbord of emotion—unbound joy, wild confusion, roiling terror. I do the only thing I can and burst into hysterical laughter.
And, standing on the steps on the New York Public Library in the arms of the man I love more than I can quantify, I laugh until I cry.
December 18, 2014
I spent two days tracking Addie down. I called the number she left in her letter and reached her mother. She knew who I was and didn’t seem surprised to hear from me. She told me Addie was in New York working for her firm and asked me what I planned to do.
I told her I was coming to get Addie and bring her home to London, even if I had to force her.
She laughed delightedly. “Oh, I don’t think you’ll have to do much forcing, Simon.”
I wasn’t convinced. Addie left London and me for her career. I decided if she needed to stay in New York, I would figure out a way to stay here with her. The Royal Albert Hall project was just getting started, but I would find a way to make my home where she was.
Mercy and I had a brief but meaningful conversation about what she did and why. I know she thought she was being helpful. I know she thought Addie was a dishonest woman. I know watching her deception unravel the way it did created memories of what I had been through with my mother. She thought she was protecting me.
She expressed her deep regret and apologized. I have forgiven her, but I am not sure how she will fit into the life I plan to build with Addie.
I took a week off to come here and just arrived this afternoon. I made myself wait for Addie to leave her building. I didn’t want to walk in on her working and I needed time to make myself calm down. I wasn’t sure what to expect when she sees me.
I watched her walk out of the building, so beautiful and determined as she walked out into the cold night. It took every ounce of willpower I possessed to not walk over, take her in my arms and kiss her with every ounce of love, desperation, and anger I have felt over the last few weeks.
Now I am standing here with her in my arms, her back to my front, while she is laughing and crying at the same time.
I turn her around and I get my first, really good look at her face. She takes my breath away.
The streetlight illuminates her face in the dark. Her eyes are closed as she laughs with tears flowing down her cheeks, which are flushed and splotchy from the cold. Her nose is red and running. Her hair is mostly hidden by a red wool hat she has pulled over her head.
I pull her into me, desperate to feel her in my arms again. Through her wool coat I can feel her frame is smaller. She shaking with laughter and I pull her close again, tentatively at first, unsure of whether not she wants me to, and then with more certainty as she rests her forehead on the center of my chest.
We stand there, in front of the steps of the library for a few more minutes and let her try to finish what has now turned from laughter into sobbing. My heart breaks to hear her cry. I can’t imagine what kind of hell the last two weeks have been for her.
I let her sobs quiet to intermittent hiccups before I speak. “Addie, I am so sorry, baby. I am sorry you felt you couldn’t tell me. I am sorry you’ve been here by yourself.”
“Oh, Simon!” This comes out as a wail as she burrows herself deeper into my jacket.
“Addie, I want you to cry until you feel like you’re done. But when you’re finished, I want us to talk.”
“Simon…”
I wait for her to continue and when she doesn’t, I pull back so that I can pull her face into my palms and look at her. I look into those golden eyes—eyes which seem to hold the answer to every important question I’ll ever need to ask.
“Yes, baby?”
She searches my face and her eyes roam, like she is learning me all over again. Her gaze lands on my mouth and she bites on her lower lips as she stares at it.
I groan, I’ve missed this look. My head starts to move toward hers, eager to reunite our lips.
Her lips spread into a smile. “Oh, good. I was just going to ask…”
“Ask me what?” My lips hover over hers. I can feel her breath on mine as she speaks. “Why the hell you hadn’t kissed me yet.”
She steps up onto her toes and presses her lips to mine. They are cold but soft, and in a matter of seconds every single doubt I have had about whether this trip was a good idea disappears.
There is nothing but Addie and I.
I take control of the kiss and tilt her head so that I can open her mouth and take what I need from her. I haven’t kissed her in over two weeks and I am starving.
She apparently feels the same way because her arms wind around my neck and pull me into her as if she is trying to absorb me. I wish she could.
She pulls back a little to nibble at my lips and I drift kisses down her the side of her face, along her jaw and suck her earlobe into my mouth.
I press my forehead to hers and stand here with my eyes closed, feeling a sense of gratitude she received me this way.
“Simon, I’m cold.” Her voice, clear but quiet, breaks the moment.
This is so like Addie to be frank and droll at the same time. I feel relief flood me.
“We can go back to my hotel. It’s around the corner.” I suggest.
“Can we go get something to eat? I am starving?” She looks at me shyly.
At this, I can’t control my laughter. “Come on, greedy guts. My hotel has a great restaurant.”
She lets me tug her the few blocks to the Bryant Park Hotel where I am staying. We hold hands the whole way, but don’t say a word. We pick our way through the crowded street and only when we are seated does our conversation begin.
I had already decided to let Addie speak first, so when we sit down, I don’t say a word. I simply reach across the table and grab her hand. I hope she knows that no matter what she tells me, I am with her.
“I am sorry I didn’t tell you who my father is. He hasn’t been part of my life for so long. His fugitive status is something I have always been ashamed of, and I didn’t know how to even say those words to you.
“I haven’t told anyone since we changed our last name to my mother’s maiden name. At first it was done for our safety. The press was hounding us. The FBI agreed to help us achieve our level of anonymity, if we agreed to cooperate in their efforts to find him. And we did. But it all proved fruitless.
“A few years after Enron collapsed and the trials were over, no one knew where we were and they stopped caring. So, I lived most of my life as Addie Dennis and the only person from before I stayed in touch with was Cara. She knows my story. My sisters know my story and my mother knows my story. That’s it. I have not told anyone else.
“It wasn’t about not trusting you, it is just not part of my personal narrative anymore.�
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She stops and takes a deep breath. For the first time she breaks eye contact.
“I knew I wanted to tell you, though. They think they know where my father is.”
I school my face to hide my shock as she peers at me with concerned eyes
“I refused to help. I didn’t want to give up my life. I didn’t think he would care what we had to say.”
I interrupt her for the first time. “If they know where he is, why don’t they just go and get him?”
“He is in Syria. There is no extradition agreement with the government and they are not willing to turn him over. They thought an appeal from us would help.”
“When we were in Paris I knew I wanted to tell you, but I just didn’t know how. And then I got back and the whole world had imploded. I didn’t have a chance to tell you.
“LaSalle and Willis offered me this position, but said I had to leave the very next day. They weren’t willing to lose Montiva as a client—and I don’t blame them for it.
“I don’t know how the news got out. It was focused on me, but my mother and my sister, Milly, have been collateral damage. Thank God the furor died down quickly.”
Her hand squeezes mine.
“The damage was done. I lost my job, left the city I love and left you.” Her eye swing back up to meet mine—the gold, dark and molten as she pins me with them.
“I am so sorry I left you, Simon. I came by to leave you a note and Mercy said…” Her voice breaks, but her gaze does not waver.
I interrupt her again.
“Mercy didn’t give me your note until three days ago.” She gasps in horror. “And I don’t know what she said, but she wasn’t speaking for me. If I had been there I would have done everything in my power to keep you from leaving. I am disappointed that you didn’t tell me Addie. I was shocked and angry when I found out the way I did. But that didn’t last long, and by the time I tried to find you, your phone was disconnected and you were gone.
“I couldn’t reach Cara and Louis, your emails were bouncing back, I was told you’d been fired by LaSalle and Willis, and no one would tell me where you were. I was in agony for two weeks until Mercy fessed up.”
“Oh, baby,” she whispers. Her hand comes up to caress my cheek. I close my eyes and turn my face so that my lips are in her palm, where I press a kiss to her skin. I pause a moment to savor the touch of her hand before I continue.
“Addie, it was Matthew who found out your real name and leaked it to the press. Montiva fired him.”
“What?” She shouts this and the entire restaurant stops to stare.
She continues in a stage whisper, “Matthew? The General Counsel. Are you fucking kidding me?” her eyes are huge with shock.
“No, Addie, I’m not. Listen, I wanted to kick his ass once I found out, but I am glad I didn’t give him the satisfaction of seeing me dragged out by security.”
I smile winsomely.
“Once I got your letter, I called your mother and here I am. I want you to come back to London, Addie. But if you won’t, I will find a way to be here. Obviously, I’d need to go back and sort things out, but being apart from you has only confirmed for me that you are the family I choose. Henry misses you. I am barely functioning without you. I know your career is—”
She cuts me off.
“My career was. It was, Simon. Our time apart and a conversation with my mother, the crafty little minx,” she chuffs “helped me realize that our relationship is what makes me happy. I’m not ashamed to say that it is the most important thing. I want to come back home, to London, with you. I resigned from my position today and was planning on leaving for London in two days.”
I am speechless. I have a speech prepared about how she needed to give us a chance. I’m prepared to upend my life and move to this country. I am not prepared for her to be willing to move to London again. A trickle of reality cuts into my haze of happiness.
“What about your job? I mean, I can support us, I’ve made a lot of money in this deal with the Royal Albert Hall, so I can more than take care of us, all of us, but I know how hard you worked to be a lawyer.”
A smile nothing short of beatific spreads across her face. “Well, I have an interview with Sister to Sister next week for the position of assistant General Counsel. They know who I am, but don’t care. In fact, Simon, apparently no one but Montiva does.”
“Well, with Matthew gone, I don’t know if they will care much longer. Would you go back to LaSalle and Willis if they asked you?”
I don’t even have to think about my answer. “No. I wouldn’t. The chance to work for an organization that is focused on helping women find their voices and get back on their feet after escaping abusive situations sets my blood on fire. And I can’t wait to go home. I am beyond excited for this, Simon.”
I sit back in my chair and look at her. The dim light of our restaurant is casting shadows across her face. It can’t hide the energy bursting from her, she is incandescent in her happiness.
This moment burns itself in my memory. In a city where dreams are made, mine is sitting across me, and I know wherever she goes I will follow.
She is my lodestar; the love of my life.
I smile at her. “Me, too, Addie. Me, too.”
6 Months Later
Versailles, France
“Simon, slow down! I want to actually enjoy the garden.” I call after Simon, who is practically racing through the gardens behind The Grand Trianon. This palace, separate from the Versailles Palace, is where Louis IVX actually lived.
We are in Paris to visit Cara and Louis for the weekend. Simon really wanted to visit Versailles, and I was game since the weather is beautiful. But now that we are here, he has barely looked at the palace.
I break into a jog and catch up with him.
“Simon! What in the world?”
“Oh, sorry, babe. I just want to see it all and get back to Paris before dark.” He smiles at me, but it’s not a genuine smile at all.
We’ve been together for 9 months and living together for the last four months. We’ve actually bought a place together close to where I work in Wimbledon. Well, Simon bought it. My new job pays some bills, but that’s about it.
Yet, I am happier professionally than I have ever been. I feel like a real social engineer as the organization I work for is focused on pushing government to create policies which support women who are in difficult domestic circumstances. It has been extremely rewarding.
The Royal Albert Hall renovation is being lauded as one of the greatest architectural projects of the last decade. Simon’s firm has received commissions on projects all over the world, and his designs have been nominated for major Architectural awards.
While Henry, Simon, and I moved into our new house together, Kyle stayed in the flat. Kyle is graduating this summer and has a job with a big investment bank lined up already. We couldn’t be prouder.
My mother came over and spent Christmas with us; she and I spent so many precious hours talking during her visit. I am happy to have a relationship with her. She loves Simon, and he always says he finally feels like he has a mother.
Life is great and this weekend was supposed to be a relaxing getaway.
Yet, I know something is bothering him. “Right. Why don’t you tell me what’s really bothering you?” I plant my feet and make Simon stop and look at me.
“Nothing, Ad. I swear. I am sorry. Let’s slow down. You’re right, we aren’t really enjoying it.”
He smiles again and puts his arm around my waist as he steers me back onto the path we’ve been on.
I decide to let it go even though I know he’s not telling me the truth. But, it is too beautiful here; I really do want us to enjoy it, so I start walking.
The gardens here at the Grand Trianon are much smaller than the Versailles gardens, though they are almost overrun with flowers.
I have never seen so many flowers in my life.
We walk in a relaxed silence and come around the huge fount
ain in front of the Portico that leads to the actual palace. It’s a beautiful building made of pink marble and grey dappled stone.
Simon lets me go as we step on black and white tiled Portico, when suddenly I hear the strains of my favorite piece of classical music, “The Girl with Flaxen Hair.”
I turn around to share my excitement with Simon, but I find myself alone.
For fuck’s sake!
Did he keep walking and not notice I’d stopped? So much for slowing down. I sigh and start toward the open doors at the side of this amazing portico. I notice the music grows louder as I walk.
I step onto the parquet floored room and see a trail of rose petals on the floor. I gasp and look around, desperate for Simon to see this.
Have we walked into someone else’s private event?
“Simon?” I call out, starting to feel anxious. I see the trail of flowers extends all the way down the long portrait lined hall.
I get no response and decide to follow the trail of rose petals.
The music grows even louder, and I am now sure I’ve stumbled into someone’s event. I pull my phone out of my pocket to call Simon and see where the hell he has disappeared to. There is no reception.
“Shit,” I grumble to myself. The rose petals lead me into a room, the source of the music. I recognize the room as the famous room of mirrors that was once part of the Empresses apartments.
Right now, the room is occupied by a string quartet. And sitting in one of those famous blue and white silk chairs is a grinning Simon.
I step toward him as he stands up, his grin growing even wider with every step I take.
Not wanting to interrupt the quartet, I wait until I get closer to him before I hiss, “Why did you run off? I looked up and you were gone.” He kisses me, but doesn’t say a word.
“What is going on?”
Still nothing, but he pushes me into one of the chairs while he remains standing just as the quartet finishes the final strains of the song.
“That was your favorite song, right?”
“Yes, but—” I’m confused and my answer is hesitant.
