Only Good With You

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Only Good With You Page 21

by Zoey Kinsman


  We spent the entire night in bed except to eat our Chinese food on paper plates. After licking the sweet and sour from each other’s faces, we enjoyed whatever fortune our lovemaking brought.

  * * * *

  The next morning the inevitable happened. We woke to the harsh awareness that he was leaving.

  I wasn’t ready. I texted Trish and explained the situation. She comforted me and told me not to come in today, but to spend every last minute with him. I easily agreed.

  After showers, dressing, and sitting having our morning meal in the kitchen, I told him that I would be staying back today and coming to the airport with him.

  “Good stuff. It’ll give you more of a chance to pack up what you are taking back with you.”

  “Is that all?”

  “I think the prick in me might be coming out. I need some kind of defense system to get through this.” He turned in his chair at first, then stood and walked out.

  Yep, that was a prick move that hit me hard. It was unexpected, and I found myself doubled over for a moment as if the wind had been knocked out of me. Fighting, I held back the tears of hurt. Grabbing my stomach, I held myself tight, trying to self-sooth frayed nerves and feelings.

  This was not how our last day together was supposed to go down. No, this was not the way. It made me mad that he couldn’t deal. I needed him to deal with it by my side. The more I thought of it, the madder I got, until finally, I had the courage to stand and seek him out.

  “Hey, Paul,” I called out loudly now.

  “Yeah,” he answered from his gym area.

  I made my way there quickly. I was going to get this over with fast. Slow didn’t work well for me in tensed up, stressed out circumstances.

  I found him running on his treadmill looking out the window. When he saw me come in, he upped the music. Oh, no, this was not happening. I went and pulled the plug on the entire system. I was fuming by now because of his avoidance of me and the situation.

  “Hey, listen…are you listening to me?” I screamed.

  “Yeah, I hear you loud and clear.”

  “Listen, you are being a mother fucker. If this is how you want to leave things because you’re a big baby who can’t deal, then fine. I’m leaving. See you around.”

  Maybe it was better this way. I turned to leave and walk out.

  “No Anne, no…please don’t go!” In an instant he was standing in front of me and blocking my way.

  “Get out of my way. I don’t want to deal with hurtful mother fuckers.”

  “Stop, please stop. You told me to warn you, and I did. Am I not allowed to go into a defensive mode? Am I not allowed to hurt and be mournful, too?”

  “Yes, but not at my expense. I just wanted to comfort you and let our friendship take over. But you had to be a prick.”

  “Okay, I’m sorry for that. I’m truly sorry. But I warned you, and you chose not to give me space and not to stay away.”

  He was confusing me. But then it came to me.

  “You could have just said I need some alone time. You didn’t have to be mean. You’ve never been mean before.”

  That’s when the tears happened on their own. He reached for me. I tried to fight him off, but to no avail, and then I was back in his arms where I belonged and just wanted to be.

  “This is so hard…so hard. A part of me wishes I had never agreed to do one date with you…part of me wishes desperately for more dates.”

  He kissed the side of my face, my neck, and arms, murmuring little “I’m sorrys” along the way.

  My arms wrapped around his shoulders now and held on tightly. “I know I’m a fool for saying and believing this, but I do love you completely, Paul…so completely. It hurts when you close the door to me, hurts like hell.”

  “I’m just so used to dealing with adversity by being a mother fucker, as you say. It’s got me through lots of tough times. It’s what I know. But you, my love, always push me to be a better version of myself. I’ll try harder. I love you so completely, too…with everything that I am. Please forgive me this transgression. But I am scared, scared as fuck.”

  “Forgiven always, but I just want us to do this together. To love together and to say see you later together. Better together, right?”

  “Ugh, you are so smart, my beauty…so smart. Yes, better together. I already feel better.”

  “So there’s the learning, right? We can’t shut each other out. See, even on our last day together we keep learning and growing. I’m kind of proud of us.”

  “You’re right! I’m proud, too. Proud of this beautiful woman that I love, and what we have together.”

  Finally we kissed, and in that kiss all our unspoken love was expressed, and love begged one last true demonstration to each other of what was real.

  He carried me back to his bed and laid me down gently.

  “Yes baby, I need you all over me and in me now…make love to me.”

  My hands searched his body, trying to scan him and imprint his being into a memory that needed to last till the next time we could know each other intimately. Open and yearning, he took me soft and then hard, looking at me the entire time. When my body shook from his knowledge of me, he watched me crumble willingly beneath him and called for me now to look as he joined us together.

  His release was fraught with emotion that he tried to hold in check, but the force that gripped him was greater.

  “Let it go, Paul…I’m here with you, loving you always.”

  His hard, powerful rod took one long, last plunge, and he was lost into a void of his own. I held him when he collapsed next to me, his heart racing and his cock done.

  “Man, you just waste me.”

  My arms enveloped him and tried to pull him closer. We lay like that for a long time.

  From his bedroom window we could see the different hues of blue in a beautiful summer sky. Our bodies entwined as one, looking out to a new horizon.

  * * * *

  All that was left to do was pack up my car and bring his bags around to the front.

  The limo arrived exactly at three o’clock in the afternoon to take us to the airport. This was the time for quiet reflection. We held each other’s hand the entire way.

  When we were almost there, I turned to him to speak. Things that needed to be said pressed upon me. “Paul, I want you to know that this has been the best time of my life. I don’t recall a time where I was happier. I am grateful for you and all that you brought to my life. I know this is only the beginning of a journey, a long journey hopefully, but just in case, thank you for your love. It’s the greatest gift I’ve ever received.” I meant it in earnest.

  He looked stunned by my remarks. “You, my beauty, are the greatest gift. It’ll be hard for me to be without you, more than you can imagine, but I’ll be brave. I’ll be waiting for you. Know that I’ll be waiting for you.”

  Smiling at him, I leaned in for a kiss that he was only too willing to give. Our lips stayed together as if stuck, neither one wanting to let go.

  In a few minutes, we were at his terminal. I asked the driver to wait for me. We walked together, him incognito with me by his side. He checked into first class and got his boarding pass. Then we made our way to his gate. I could only go as far as the security check point.

  There were only a few words left that needed to be spoken.

  He reached down and held me close. I closed my eyes for a brief moment to take him all in.

  “I love you, my beauty.”

  “I love you more.”

  Then he turned and walked away. His smell lingered on me long after he was gone.

  Chapter 11

  The first few days without him were tremendously difficult. His smell was all around my place. His scent would hang in the air at any given moment. I would turn to look, and he wasn’t there. That was the worst. When I wanted to cry from missing him so much, I let myself do it. I didn’t hold back. Sometimes I would even close my office door and just wail. His scent was even on my
chair where Trish had caught us canoodling. Was I going to have to clean everything to find a certain peace now? Yet, oddly enough, I didn’t want his smell to leave. It would mean he was really gone.

  So I dragged along, waiting like a lovesick puppy for any sign of life from him. I wasn’t any good at keeping it together and didn’t care. He was coping, it seemed, but I was merely existing.

  When we went into the fourth week without Paul, the heartache didn’t let up. But who was counting, right?

  Many times I thought about the speech I had delivered that one night at the pool. It was the speech of my life, where I preached that he shouldn’t feel chained, and if the opportunity to move on before I was able to come and visit presented itself, he was free to act on it. He had countered with remarks that I must have lost my mind over the last four weeks and didn’t fully understand what was happening between us. I understood full well. It was the love I felt for him that enabled me to say words that cut me to the core. Words that weren’t my own, but driven by a need to ensure that, at any cost, he was happy. Yes, even if it meant giving up my own happiness to secure his own. Sometimes Grumpy Cat came to visit and smirk and make me wonder if he was taking me up on my offer.

  In those lonely four weeks without him, I schlepped my way into work each day and did what needed to be done, and then schlepped my way home. Few things made me smile like a good, well written novel, a truly funny joke, or the emails from him that I subconsciously longed for every hour, every day. Then there were the rare weekly Face Time calls where just the sound of his voice brought joy. His low baritone sound touched the recesses of my soul that longed to touch him, feel him, and have him near. He always looked amazing, but also tired. Sometimes, those calls were too much to bear, whereas the emails led for greater open discussion. But I craved any kind of communication from him. He said he felt the same way.

  On the fifth Monday without him, I noticed a peculiar feeling come over me. It felt somewhat reminiscent of a kind of numbness one feels when they try to block out the bad. The numbness was actually welcomed. It helped me work without missing him so badly. Booting up my computer and sipping on my coffee, I waited for Trish to bring the news of the day. Instead she brought tragedy.

  “Anne, have you seen the news yet?” Her face looked ashen and full of shock.

  “No, I’m just trying to boot up. What’s going on?”

  She sat down in front of me and made direct eye contact. She gave it to me straight. “It’s Paul. There’s been an accident on set. He’s been badly injured and he’s in critical condition. The news site didn’t say more, except that it would update as more information became available.”

  Leaning back in my chair, I desperately tried to breathe, to catch my breath. The news had sucker punched me. Then I told myself I could handle it.

  “Get me his agent on the phone now.”

  I gave her the name and agency contact info. She had him on the phone in minutes.

  “Hi Anne, I guess you’ve heard about Paul.”

  “Yes, how bad is it? What do you know?”

  “Apparently it was a riding accident. He fell off his horse as he was riding briskly during shooting. All the safety precautions failed. The horse merely bucked him off. At the moment he’s unconscious and his condition is critical, but they are cautiously optimistic. He did have some internal bleeding, and they’ve operated already to stop it. But it’s his legs. We don’t know if they are just broken or if there’s some permanent damage.”

  His agent knew our situation and connection.

  “Listen, I’m getting the first plane out of here. I need you to tell the hospital that I am his only living relative and I’m on my way. By the way, which hospital is he at?”

  “He’s at Royal Victoria Hospital. Please keep me posted as well.”

  “I will. Thanks.”

  I hung up and called out to Trish, who was already waiting at the door of my office.

  “I need you to get me to Belfast as soon as possible. I want as many direct flights as possible, and all first class. I mean it, Trish, I want to leave in the next hour.”

  As I flew out the door, I heard her on the phone to the airlines, booking my flights and seats. I got in my car and drove home as fast as I could without getting into an accident. We were on the phone to each other constantly.

  She emailed the tickets and hotel reservations to my cell and ordered a car to take me from my place to the airport. Having just enough time to pull out a suitcase and throw some warmer clothes in and toiletries, I had only a few minutes to wash and change, put my runners on, and lock up the house before the car was there to take me to the airport.

  “Trish, I need you to alert the alarm company that I’ll be gone indefinitely. I need you to clear off my credit cards for me. And Trish, I don’t know what I’m going to find once I get there, so I need you to take over the business till I get back. I know you can do it. I know you will do brilliantly and not let me or yourself down. When Paul is okay, I will let you know and you can ask me anything, but for now my main focus is solely on him and getting him well. I just can’t handle it all…”

  “You’ll do great. You will be our strong warrior who sees him safely back to health. I have faith in you, Anne. You can do this, too.” Her voice was so soothing, so kind.

  “Thank you, sweetheart, I will keep you updated.”

  “Call or text if you need anything.”

  When I arrived at LAX airport, I embarked on a twelve-hour journey to get to Paul. Somehow, I had to get there, to be near him and help him get back home.

  * * * *

  First class made no difference. Jetlagged and tired when I landed, it was only the thought of getting to him that gave me a renewed sense of energy, infused determination. The little sleep I had onboard the flights was my only means of rest, but it would have to do.

  Having travelled light with only a carry on, I was able to get out of the Belfast airport in good time. Hailing a cab, I asked them to drive me to the hospital as quickly as possible. Once inside, I made my way to his room. Trish had so wonderfully arranged with his agent for my easy access to him.

  When I got there, many cast and crew were huddled around his bed and around the room and hallway, waiting for some kind of sign from Paul that he was all right and going to make it. As I made my way past the people they all stopped to look at me, and a hush fell over the ones in the room who seemed to already know who I was.

  All I saw though was my beautiful love lying in a hospital bed with tubes running in and out of him, attached to monitors that periodically beeped, unnerving me.

  Then I saw her sitting at Paul’s bedside with his hand in hers and her head resting on the bed. Instantly I knew who she was. Like most women in love, she hadn’t given up on him. But this was not the time for any kind of drama.

  A tall older man with a thick Irish accent spoke.

  “Perhaps we need to give his friend some time alone with him. She’s come a long way to be by his side. Let’s honor that.”

  They all made for the door except for her.

  Speaking firmly and with total command of the situation, I told her, “Valerie, I need to be with Paul, and you need to leave now.” There was no way I was giving up on him. I had promised that I would always be there for him, and I was going to do just that. No one, especially a past girlfriend, was going to stop me from fulfilling my promise to him.

  “I’ll be back tomorrow to check on him.” She stood and exited briskly with her comrades.

  The director came by and slipped me his card. “Please call if anything changes.” I nodded.

  When they were all gone, I closed the door tightly behind them. Now I could take a better look at him.

  His beautiful face had an oxygen mask attached, his eyes were closed, and those lashes, long and blond, looked so lost on his pale, pale face. The monitors counted out his heartbeats. My heart kept time with my own agony. He didn’t move. His legs were in casts from the hip bones to his feet.
How could this have happened? Tears that I would not release back home or on the plane now fell endlessly from my eyes, from a place that loved him unconditionally. I stood there shaking and crying at the sight of him so injured.

  The nurse came in to check on him, to give him some kind of meds, and saw me pitifully standing there.

  “He seems to be improving slowly. He’s come out of ICU to a room, so that’s a good sign. We just need him to wake up now. We need to assess the damage and what else needs to be done to facilitate his healing.”

  I nodded as if I could make sense of it all. What was important was getting him to wake up. When she left the room, I pulled the curtain around to block the outside from seeing into his room. Slowly and methodically, so as not to disturb any wires that connected him to the support he needed, I crawled into the bed next to him. Finding my way into his arms, my body pressed against his. The tears welled up once more, but I tried hard to fight them back before I spoke to him.

  “I’m here, my love. Can you hear me? Feel me next to you. I am here with you. I promised I would always be there if you needed me, and here I am.”

  Reaching up, softly I kissed his neck and shoulder over and over. “Feel my love for you, Paul. Please, my baby, I need you to wake up for me now. Please wake up for me.” Renewed tender little kisses found his arms and his bare chest.

  Again I tried. “I’m only good with you. Please wake up for me…please,” I begged him. “Please, baby, have mercy on me and wake up.”

  Frozen next to him, I didn’t move for fear of losing him completely. Hours passed, and repeatedly I asked him to wake. Sleep finally came for me. Falling fast asleep next to him as only the sound of monitors filled our space, it was the sound of the nurse coming back to check on him that woke me. She didn’t say a word, and left quietly when she was done, letting me stay next to him in that one spot.

  When I woke again, I stroked his arm and chest, kissing every inch of him that I could reach. Weeping tears I didn’t even know I could cry, I spoke repeatedly again, “I love you so much…please wake for me. I’m only good with you…only you, my love…only you…please, Paul.”

 

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