by C. J. Wells
“Maybe not, but if there’s anything you need, you know where to find me.”
“That I do,” I smile, following behind him. “Thanks.”
“Anytime,” he winks, pulling the door open to leave, revealing Alex, standing on the other side.
Shit, my heart drops in my chest. Honestly, I have the worst fucking luck EVER.
“Andrew,” Alex’s greeting is curt.
“I was just leaving,” Andrew offers just as flatly.
“Hey, don’t rush off on my account.”
My eyes bulge at the razor edge in Alex’s tone.
“I wouldn’t,” Andrew is equally clipped, meeting Alex’s stance in some silent agreement of a showdown of brawn.
The testosterone bounces between them, ricocheting from chest to chest in an imaginary fight for alpha-pride.
Ugh. I turn on my heels, leaving them standing at the door. At this point, I don’t have the strength of body or mind to deal with it.
Clearly, my departure initiated the end of the alpha-dance, as Alex makes his way in not long behind me. “Did he stay the night?”
“What?” I spin around in shock.
“I think you heard me.”
“Oh, I heard you. I just can’t believe you asked me that.”
He says nothing as he stares at me, jaw clenched.
The display is incredibly sexy and I can’t help myself from taking him all in, unable to resist devouring the length of his beautiful form. Every tense muscle is outlined in his white shirt, the sleeves pushed up to his elbows highlighting the strength of his arms, the hem partially tucked beneath the belt of his dark blue, perfectly hanging jeans. He looks sinfully delicious. He always does.
Damn him. Why can’t he be just another pretty face? He’s so much more…a truly wonderful man whose flaws, even in his anger, are so easily forgivable and insignificant when weighed against the pure core of the gentleman I’ve fallen in love with.
The gentleman Julia fell in love with. The idea that he may still love her turns in my stomach, and I feel the need to brace myself against the ripples of acidic fear building inside me. I need to be strong.
“Why are you here, Alex?” I ask, turning to casually take a seat. It’s a move of self-preservation, and a poorly executed show of strength, my inner actress nowhere to be found, my inner dreamer still crying in the corner.
“I came to apologize.”
Oh God. I swallow the vomit lining my throat. An image of him and Julia together, lost in the throws of reunited passion, twists my ailing heart to ice. “Where did you drive off to, Alex, when you left me standing on the curb last night? Did you go to her?”
“Her?” he spits.
“You know exactly who I’m talking about. Or are we playing games now?”
“This isn’t a game, Aby, this is my life.”
It’s mine too! I want to scream, but bite my tongue. “You didn’t answer my question.”
“No. You know damn well I wouldn’t do that.”
“Do I? I’m not really sure of anything right now,” I mutter the latter on a whisper, looking down.
“Nor am I,” he replies.
My gaze whips back to his, “What are you saying?” My heart, so full of love for this man, is breaking apart. I need to know I’m not losing him. I need him to tell me he’s choosing me, not her.
“I’m saying that yesterday was a lot to take in. I think I need some time,” he says softly, avoiding my eyes. “And,” he pauses to look at me directly, “…I’m saying I’m sorry.”
Time for? “What are you sorry for?” I barely manage the words, my charade of strength crumbling and evident in the shaking timber of my voice. I want to curl into a ball, to close my eyes and wish this all away. He can’t leave me to go back to her.
“I’m sorry for the way I treated you last night, Aby.”
I say nothing, silent in my fear and self-doubt. He can’t leave me for her…He wouldn’t.
“And, I’m sorry that I need to take some time to sort through everything,” his words drag me, mentally kicking and screaming away from my bubble of denial.
“What does that mean?” my thundering question shoots straight down my legs, bolting me upright to stand.
“I need time to figure everything out,” his tone is laced with an underlying plea for understanding. “Remember when you needed time?”
I fall back in place on the sofa, reeling from the punch to my stomach, the additional stab to my chest.
“Aby…”
My mind is spinning, furiously trying to win the race against the pounding of my heart.
“Aby, look at me,” he pleads.
Realizing my eyes are clamped shut, I open them to meet his gaze. The sight shatters me. He’s broken, torn and ragged from the pulling of the seams of his reality. Everything he thought was real shredded to pieces in the blink of an eye.
“I need to return to L.A. today. They can’t hold off the shoot any longer. I think…” his jaw clenches as he seems to recalculate his words. “I’m going back alone, Aby.” He stares at me in the silence, waiting for me to say something. Anything.
But I don’t. I can’t speak.
“There will be a break in filming in two weeks. I just need this time.”
I want to be strong for him, but I’m drowning in an ocean of uncertainty, the waves pulling me under, tearing him from my grasp.
“Aby, say something,” his plea is so full, yet so empty as it reaches my ears.
“I don’t know what to say, Alex,” I whisper. “What do you want me to say?” My eyes are pleading, desperately begging for him to come to me.
He doesn’t.
“I need you to say that you understand.”
“Understand that you may leave me to go back to her?” my voice quivers as I swallow back my building tears.
“Aby…I…”
“Do you still love her?” A tear trickles down my cheek, the question cutting through me, slashing my heart.
“No…I don’t know…Fuck,” he runs his hands through his hair, “…it doesn’t even matter, I…”
“It doesn’t matter?” I stand in a burst of adrenaline. “It matters to me!”
“Don’t you think I know that?” he flinches, closing his eyes, his jaw still clenched in pain. Finding my gaze, his words are cautiously soft, “This is about so much more than just Julia.”
Her name on his tongue burns through me and my body fights against it to step closer to him. I need to be closer to him, to steal the strength he’s holding, to use it as a shield for my breaking heart.
With each step closer, I realize I’m losing him. I may have lost him already. My dream world snatched away with the snap of her fingers, torn from me by the lies of their past. Damn her! I have to look away from him, desperate to hide the lash of contempt. I HATE HER.
I hate myself, too. I aided in the shattering of his reality that now echoes through the demise of my own. This is why I have to let him go. He needs this from me right now. I owe him that much.
“You’re right,” I begin, looking up to him, just feet apart, the surge of his will aiding my composure. “You should go alone,” I falter slightly.
UGH, LONDON WEATHER. It’s officially pouring. And I mean pouring. Although, I will say, it’s quite fittingly ironic. Mother nature seems to be mirroring my fallen tears since Alex left two days ago. Even if I wanted to venture outside - which I do not - her mocking cry fest is enough to keep me sheltered behind closed doors. Not that it matters. God knows I wouldn’t subject anyone to my pathetic form. Except for Stacey, of course. She’s flying here tomorrow night on the pretense of visiting Thomas, but I know that’s bullshit. My best friend is coming to my rescue. That’s what best friends do, I suppose. And, normally, I’d say it wasn’t necessary, but in this case I absolutely need my BFF.
For now, though, I think I’ll settle with pouring myself a glass of wine. See, perfectly fitting, I smile at my brilliance, grabbing a bottle of my favorite Shira
z.
Reaching for a wine glass, my cell phone signals a text and I freeze. Literally. I’m like a statue, my hand mid-air as I wrap my head around the idea that it could be Alex, my heart pounding loud enough to threaten shattering the glass at my fingertips. I’ve yet to hear from him, the trepidation building with every hour since he walked out the door. I’m dying to hear his voice, yet frightened to death about what he’ll be reaching out to say.
Moving incredibly slow - a sloth comes to mind - I drop my hand at my side and turn around, leaning against the countertop to stare at my phone on the island. My heart screams pick it up, you fool, but my head is shaking no. Again, literally. Gripping the countertop behind me, I watch as the reminder alert sets my phone vibrating in place, eerily akin to a puddle, its still water blasted by the pouring rain. How fitting.
Are we done with the weather analogies? - my inner actress rolls her eyes. Yup. Sink or swim time, I reach for the phone, sighing when I realize it isn’t even him.
Subject: Rain Day
Monopoly?
Andrew
Monopoly? Well, at least this time Andrew has good timing, I could use a distraction right now. Although, given the recent happenings, the initial thought of seeing him stings. But…Alex isn’t here. He’s in L.A. And, I need a friend. And that’s just what Andrew is - despite what Alex thinks.
I quickly type a reply…
Subject: Love Monopoly
Come on over.
An afternoon of mindless games sounds perfect, I convince myself, making my way downstairs in time to hear Andrew knocking on the door. “Come on in,” I yell, taking a seat on the sofa.
“Hey there,” he smiles walking in, closing the door behind him. “What are you up to over here all by yourself?” he asks cautiously, though his natural playful charm seeps through.
“Ugh, being depressed,” I confess on a sigh.
“Well, I figured. Thought you could use some company. And given the weather sucks, there’s no better time like the present for a Monopoly-fest,” he holds up the board game, the box beaten up and slightly dilapidated - quite the contrast to his brilliant white, toothy smile. That grin would make the saddest frown turn upside down.
“I admit I haven’t played in years. And I mean years. You’ll kick my ass,” I smile half-heartedly.
“You can’t be good at everything you do, Aby,” he winks, joining me on the sofa, emptying the box of all contents on the coffee table.
I laugh - the realization that it’s not a forced one easing up my initial wary discomfort. I’m glad he came over. “What can I get you? Soda? Beer?” I ask, pushing myself up.
“Beer would be great, if you’ve got it,” he flashes that wide smile, arranging the blue, orange, yellow and pink money into neat little piles.
“Two brewskies coming up,” I head for the stairs, feeling lighter and more human. “I’ll grab some munchies too.”
He eyes me cautiously on my return, doling out our allotted cash, as I lay down our snacks and sit cross-legged on the floor.
I can’t help but chuckle at the neat piles of properties he’s spread out, but when I look up to his face, I see he’s still looking at me with an odd expression. “What?” I question.
“Nothing,” he smiles, “I was just wondering how you’re doing?”
“Ummm, I’ve had better days. But, so far it’s looking up,” I reach over, giving him a playful shove on the shoulder.
“Happy to be of service,” he laughs, shoving me back as he moves to sit down on the floor across from me. “So, I’m the car,” he states, pulling the silver pieces out of the bag.
“Hey! What if I wanted to be the car?” I question like a fifteen year old.
“No can do, beautiful. I’m always the car. Here, you can be the thimble,” he dangles the piece that nobody wants.
“Fine,” I laugh, “I’ll be the man on the horse. You know, it won’t matter what piece you use, I’ll still beat your ass.”
“That may very well be the case, but you’ll always wonder if I let you win,” his mock charming smile makes me laugh out loud.
“Thanks for coming over, Andrew. I really needed the company.”
“Hey, what are friends for? But, you know, you can’t stay holed up in here forever, Aby. You have to go out sometime.”
On a sigh, I pick up the dice, needing the distraction from the serious turn of conversation. “Yeah, I know I do. I just…I don’t know. Stacey will be here tomorrow. She’s flying in from Toronto to stay with me for a while.”
“That’s great,” he smiles, as I roll and take my respective moves. “When does she arrive?”
“Sadly, not until tomorrow night. Maybe I’ll go into the office. That way I’m not ‘holed up’ in here,” I drawl sarcastically. “Reading Railroad, buster. It’s mine,” I mutter with delight, handing him two hundred dollars.
“Oh, it’s like that is it? You’re a railroad hog.”
“Yup, prepare to lose, car boy.”
“In your dreams, horse.” He takes his turn rolling the dice. “So…”
“So, what?”
“So, we’re not talking about Alex? And by we,” he adds quickly, “…I mean you?”
“Nope. You taking Park Place, racer?”
“Nah, too high a price to pay.”
Well, isn’t that a kick in the teeth, I try to hide a grimace at the eerie, though unintentional analogy. Park Place is the equivalent of Alex’s world. Wealth, fame, and all the other expensive shit that comes along with it. And right now, Park Place can kiss my ass.
“ARE YOU SURE you really want to be here today?” Emily asks, her face giving away her recent membership in the Poor Aby, Pity Party Club. I’m really starting to hate that club.
“I think the office is the best place for me to be,” I reply with a closed lip smile. “That is of course, unless you’re going to look at me that way for the rest of the day.”
“What way?”
“You know what way,” I fold my arms, rolling my eyes. “I’m not some fragile little bird that…you know,” I flail my arms in search of the word fairy, “…lost her puppy or something.”
“Aby, birds don’t have puppies, love. What you have is called the blues,” she offers the Pity Party forced smile salute.
Ugh.
“You still haven’t heard from him, have you?”
“It’s only been a few days,” I feign indifference, thumbing through my files. I can’t bring myself to admit to her that it’s killing me. He outright left me. It’s not all butterflies and rainbows anymore. And I know exactly how long it’s been - day three, and it sucks - but I’m sure as hell not going to give a member of the sympathy club more pathetic ammunition.
The feel of her concerned stare burns a hole in the side of my head, and I exhale an annoyed sigh before turning to look at her.
“He said he needed time, Emily. And I don’t doubt that,” I shake my head at the thought of what he must be going through, despite what it’s doing to me. “I have to respect what he needs right now.” Although it is killing me that I haven’t heard from him. Doesn’t he want to talk to me? Does he even miss me?
“He isn’t giving you much of a choice either way,” she shrugs sympathetically, turning back to her work.
No, he isn’t. I lean back in my chair, hugging the files to my chest. He did, however, take the time to explain it to me before he left. In so many words, at least. That’s a hell of a lot better than just leaving without any at all, I close my eyes against the shameful memory. But at the end of the day, it’s not my lack of choice that concerns me. It’s his. And, more to the point of the dagger aimed at my heart, it’s the fact that he has to make one at all. Julia…or me.
“Good morning, ladies.”
I cringe at the sound of Helena Adelaide’s silky, and rather cheery, voice. “That’s quite the pep in your step for so early in the day,” I offer without turning her way. Why does she get under my skin so easily? She’s never really done anyt
hing to me, personally. So, she slept with my boyfriend on a whim, or a phone-a-friend whore-call, up until the point he met me. That doesn’t exactly make her a threat. Or a whore, for that matter. Maybe it’s her timing. Yeah, I’ll go with that. She has whore-timing.
“Good morning, Helena,” Emily shoots me a questioning glance.
“What a pleasure to see you at the office, Aby. I must say,” Helena pauses to sit on the corner of my desk. “I was concerned to hear that Alex returned to Los Angeles without you. Is everything okay?”
And, there it is. My Ho-bra alarm going off again. She may be innocent as a mouse, but in my mind, she contorts into a snake that’s actually chewing on one, its poor tail still sticking out of her slimy jaws. “You’ve got a little something right there,” I brush my finger at the corner of my mouth with patronizing sarcasm.
Of course, it’s lost on her; concern plaguing her gaze as she discreetly wipes her lip.
Oh well, I mentally shrug her off, pretending to look busy with my files, although I do feel a little guilty for being such a bitch. Just a pinch.
Ignoring her, however, isn’t making her go away. Ugh. “Everything is fine,” I lie, without looking up. I just want to get rid of her annoying gaze. I’m sure as hell not telling dial-a-goddess anything about Alex and I. “Our return to London was for personal reasons, a friend of Alex’s is in the hospital.”
She says nothing, and I look up to find an odd look in her eyes. That’s all the information I plan on giving her. It’s not my place to divulge anything further about Ben’s situation. As far as I know she barely knows him, other than the introduction I gave her at the office that day Ben picked me up. That fateful day. A shiver runs down my spine, and I quickly shake it off hoping it goes unnoticed.
“Alex will be back in a couple of weeks, when he breaks from shooting,” I add, hoping that will satisfy her and get her off my desk. Two long painful weeks, during which I may, or may not, hear from him at this rate.
The look on her face is just…weird.
“Is something else concerning you, Helena?”
“N-no,” she finally replies, her mouth hanging agape as though she’s considering saying more, before closing it, suddenly avoiding my gaze. “Oh, it looks as though Thomas is ready to see me,” she stands in an awkward rush, brushing the wrinkles from her perfectly fitted skirt. “It was nice chatting with you ladies. Perhaps we can meet for lunch one day this week,” she smiles, making her way towards his office.
