Breathe Again: A Love Story

by Joelle Duff

  “Are you ever afraid of what everyone would say if they knew what your relationship with Lucy was like? I mean, everyone knows that you two are close, and you do a lot of movies together. I’m just afraid of how she would take it if the media ever suggested you two were together.”

  Jackson sighed again, and moved onto his back so he could stare at the ceiling, though his arm was still around me. “I hate thinking about it, but yeah. I have, and it would suck. I mean, she’s so much younger than I am, and she really just needs family. Her parents are back in England, and she doesn’t get to talk to them much. It’s pretty much me, Blake, and Meredith, but now that they’re starting their own family, she doesn’t even really have them anymore. She’s been hurt by rumors in the past, and I hate watching her struggle like this. I guess it’s just something we all have to go through.”

  I nodded. “Yeah, I completely agree. I think she’s having a hard time trying to figure out who she is, especially since she didn’t have a childhood, like you said. I can’t believe she’s only three years younger than I am. She still seems like a little girl, you know?”

  Jackson thought for a second. “Absolutely. Honestly, I didn’t even realize that you two were so close in age. I guess you’re just a lot more mature in some ways.”

  I raised an eyebrow in his direction. “What do you mean I’m so much more mature?” I asked.

  Jackson just smirked at me, and then proceeded to show me exactly how much more mature he thought I was, apparently.

  We may not have had a chance to take advantage of the bed the night before, but we most definitely made up for it that morning. Our food was ice cold by the time we actually got up, nearly an hour after it had arrived. We skipped the eggs and pancakes, and instead just went for the pastries and yogurt.

  “These aren’t nearly as good as yours,” Jackson said in between bites of a croissant. I just laughed.

  “So, what are we doing today?” I asked, taking a sip of my cold coffee. Whatever we did, I made a mental note to hit up a Starbucks on the way.

  “Well, as much as I wanted to stay in Ojai for the day, I have a feeling there are still probably quite a few paparazzi hanging out in the area. I was thinking we could head up to Santa Barbara instead, spend some time by the beach before I take you back home.”

  I agreed, reluctantly, and began packing up my things so we could get going. When we finally got in the car, there was a strange air between us. Not awkward, just resigned. We were both still a little unsettled by the night before, and didn’t really have the energy to drive even the half hour north to Santa Barbara. Instead, we just found a little brewery near the coast, but on the way back down to Los Angeles. We stayed for only a few hours before making our way back home. What was supposed to be a careless, lazy weekend away had turned into something…not so much.

  The ride back home was almost silent. I was exhausted, from multiple rounds of sex and tiring encounters with jealous costars and needy costars. I got a text from Lucy while we were walking along the beach, but I didn’t even have the energy to answer back then.

  It wasn’t until I unlocked the back door to the café, and we started making our way up the stairs to my loft, that Jackson actually brought up the night before.

  “I’m sorry about last night Mellie,” he said when I opened the door to my apartment. I just sighed, and pushed the door open to the quiet of my safe space.

  “It’s okay,” I said, throwing my bag onto the kitchen counter. “There’s not much you could have done about it. I just wish we had this one last weekend, you know? It just sucks that they had to steal that from us.”

  “I know,” Jackson said, putting my suitcase down next to the couch, and then wrapping me in his arms. “I feel terrible that they took that away from us too. And I completely understand if you aren’t ready to go to the premiere with me on Tuesday. I can’t expect that from you; not after last night.”

  I shook my head, and pushed Jackson away from me so I could look him in the eye. “Don’t say that Jackson, of course I’ll go with you.”

  Jackson pushed his hands through his hair, making it stick up in different directions. If I wasn’t so disappointed, I would have found it sexy, but I just felt…defeated. “I know that you wanted it to be just us for this weekend, and I’m going to make it up to you. I promise.”

  I shook my head angrily. “No Jackson, that isn’t it. This isn’t your fault at all. I knew what I was getting myself into when we started this…thing. I’m just being selfish, and it’s time. I can’t keep doing this to you. We can’t keep hiding out in my apartment.”

  “Mellie,” he said seriously, looking me in the eye. “You know that I would never make you do anything unless you were comfortable with it, so all you have to say is you need more time and I’ll give it to you.”

  Something in his voice unsettled me. “Wait,” I said, cocking my head in thought. “Do you not want to be seen with me in public anymore? Did I do something last night that embarrassed you, or did you finally realize that I’m just not good enough for you? Because if that’s the case, just tell me Jackson,” I said angrily.

  “What?” Jackson said loudly, shaking his head. I tried to pull myself from his grip, but he just held onto me tighter. I knew I was being unreasonable, but I was just too frustrated to deal with any of it.

  “You heard me,” I said. “Did Sophia finally convince you that she was better for you than I am? I saw her grab your hand last night, and I should have known. Maybe I should be glad that I never put myself in that position, so the world won’t know when you break my heart.”

  “God Mellie,” Jackson said, shaking me this time. “Would you listen to yourself? Of course I want you, and I have no plans to break your heart any time soon. I feel like an ass that I couldn’t give you the weekend away that you wanted, and the one that I promised. I would give it all up for you, if it meant that I could give you a happy, normal life. You know that.”

  “Don’t say that Jackson,” I said, on the verge of tears. I knew he was right; he would never lie to me like that. I was just so frustrated; I was going stir crazy in my apartment, but I was terrified to outside too. Was it all worth it? Was being with Jackson really worth the pain that his celebrity status was going to cause me; cause us and our relationship?

  Jackson always had this uncanny ability to understand what was going on in my head and my heart long before I did. Who was I kidding? I never understood what I was feeling; I was still learning how to read my own emotions, and how to deal with them. Jackson, on the other hand, always knew when I needed to be kissed or held, or even if I just needed a piece of chocolate.

  I wanted to say something to hurt him, to push him away, but he had his arms wrapped around me and my face pressed up against his chest before I could think of anything. I felt the tears leak from my eyes, but for once I wasn’t afraid of them. I knew I didn’t need to be afraid if I had Jackson there to help me through it.

  He held me against him, and I just cried silently into his chest. He didn’t tell me to stop this time either, though I knew he could tell I was crying. I was soaking his shirt, silent tears running down my face. I was just so angry; angry at everyone for wanting in on our private lives, when this was supposed to be our time; I was angry at Jackson for making me fall in love with him, and I was angry at myself for giving in. But it was too late for that. I’d made my bed, and I needed to lay in it. At least my bed was one sexy piece of man.

  “I love you Mellie,” Jackson whispered into my head, stroking my hair and rocking me gently in his arms. I immediately felt better, hearing his words in my ear. It scared me before, how much I responded to his touch and his voice, but I let the fear go. There wasn’t much I could do about it anymore, and I might as well be happy, if only for a bit.

  Eventually my tears slowed, but Jackson just kept rocking me in his arms. “Why don’t you go change Mellie? I can order something in for dinner.”

  I nodded, and turned toward my bedroom. I kne
w my face must have been all red and splotchy, so I went into the bathroom to splash some cold water in my face, and throw my hair up. I pulled on a pair of yoga pants and sweatshirt, before making my way back out into the living room. Jackson was already on the phone with our favorite Chinese restaurant, and had pulled off his button down shirt so he was just in a t-shirt. He had his back turned to me, so I used it an excuse to shamelessly check him out. God knows he did to me on a regular basis, so why shouldn’t I have the same fun? Especially if I was already torturing myself with the tragic love story I was apparently living.

  There was no doubt in my mind that Jackson was seriously one of God’s finest gifts to mankind. Everything about him was pure strength and muscle, from his broad shoulders to his very, very fine backside. I was actually a little jealous, since my own derrière was far too flat for my own liking, though I knew Jackson would deny it until the end of time.

  I couldn’t help but love this man. He was kind, generous, and sexy as hell, all wrapped up in the perfect package. Damn him for making me drink the Kool-Aid too.

  Chapter 22

  “So, today’s the day,” Darcy said as she pushed through the swinging door into the kitchen, just to torture me I was guessing. I was too busy beating the dough for my cookies to death to give her any verbal response, so I kind of just grunted in her direction. I had exactly forty-three minutes before I needed to be at Jackson’s apartment, so I could get ready before the premiere, but I was trying desperately not to think about it. The cookies were just a distraction, of course; they’d never bake correctly after the way I’d been pounding the dough together for the past fifteen minutes.

  “Do you know what you’re wearing yet?” It was like she didn’t even care that I hadn’t answered her the last twenty times she asked me the question.

  I put down the bowl I was holding, and turned in her direction. “No, not yet Darcy,” I said, running a flour covered hand through my hair. “It’s still between the same three dresses.”

  Darcy thought for a second, and grabbed a spoon from the bowl I’d put on the counter so she could lick the batter. “Well, I still think you should go with the red one. It brings out your eyes, and definitely gives all those other Hollywood bitches a run for their money.”

  I scowled. “And that’s exactly why I’m leaning toward the black one. It’s understated, subtle. Nobody would notice me that way.”

  Darcy narrowed her eyes at me. “Mellie, this is your chance to prove to everyone that you’re good enough for Jackson. Not that I would ever doubt you, of course, but you need to show everyone that you have some balls, that you aren’t going to let them walk all over you. And believe me, they’re going to try and walk all over you from the moment you step foot on that red carpet.”

  I sighed. “I know, but what if I’m not ready? I mean, maybe I should just stay home tonight, let Jackson go at it alone. I’m not made for this life Darcy, and I don’t know if I have what it takes to hear everything they’re going to say about me in the morning.”

  Darcy made a face, and stuck the spoon right back in the batter. It’s a good thing I wasn’t going to be making the cookies anyway, since she’d just ruined them by cross-contamination. “You listen to me Melanie Rose Devlin,” she said, putting her hands on my shoulders and looking me straight in the eye. “You love Jackson, and he loves you. Wait, scratch that. He adores you, worships the freaking ground that you walk on. I know, more than I’ve ever known anything, in my life, that he wouldn’t let them hurt you. You’re his, and he has some serious man-protectiveness inside of him. Just watch; the second he actually throws himself in front of a bus for you, hopefully not really a bus but you get the picture, is going to be the hottest moment of your life. I would give my right boob to have someone love me the way that Jackson loves you.”

  She was right, but I was stubborn. I opened my mouth to respond, but she slapped her hand over my mouth. “No. No more talking Mellie. You get your ass to Jackson’s and get ready. And wear the damn red dress.”

  I huffed, and turned around to go up the stairs to my apartment. If she was going to kick me out of my own kitchen, she got to clean up after me. The thought made me smile, but I was still nervous as hell about how it was all going to go down later.

  I changed quickly into something more comfortable, and grabbed my overnight bag before heading back down the stairs. I was driving Jackson’s BMW again, which made my life a thousand times easier. He was out doing a radio interview at one of the stations downtown, to do publicity for the movie he was premiering that night, so he wouldn’t have had a chance to come pick me up anyway. I honestly didn’t even realize how inaccessible Los Angeles was without a car until I had one at my disposal. Thank God my boyfriend was a talented, rich actor who didn’t mind lending his poor girlfriend a car that cost more than I’d make in five years at the café, but who was paying attention, really? Well, they would be after tonight.

  It was the middle of the day, so the drive to Jackson’s apartment only took about fifteen minutes, and he still wasn’t home when I got there. I let myself in, and went to take a shower before my hair and makeup stylists arrived. I had told Jackson it wasn’t necessary, that I could do my own hair and makeup, but eventually I gave in. Lucy had convinced both Jackson that I needed to hire her image consultant, something I didn’t even know existed until Lucy mentioned it. She cost a lot more than I would have liked, but Anita wouldn’t have me taking no for an answer once she met me. I wasn’t so sure why, but apparently she and Jackson had come to some sort of an arrangement; one that I was left out of almost completely. Thankfully she agreed to my conditions: that my makeup stay minimal and my clothing at least somewhat modest.

  “So, have you decided which dress you’re going with?” she asked me as soon as I stepped foot out of the bathroom. I jumped in surprise, since she hadn’t been there when I’d gone into the bathroom. I shouldn’t have been surprised; Anita was one tough, talented, and dedicated stylist. She was always the first to arrive at our meetings, and went above and beyond when I ever expected from her. I didn’t know why she did it, honestly. I wasn’t the famous one, and Jackson already had his own stylist.

  “Um,” I said, clutching my towel around my chest. I hadn’t even had a chance to put something on yet. “I was thinking the black one?”

  Anita glanced over at me from where she stood in the door to the bedroom, and smirked. She was a beautiful woman, in a nontraditional way. Even if she didn’t have the face to be on screen though, she definitely had both the body and the style for it. She was edgy and modern, and always impeccably dressed. It was actually really intimidating.

  “I was afraid you’d say that,” she said, a sly smile coming across her face. “Are you sure that’s the one you want?” As of ten seconds ago, I had been sure, but the look on her face was making me second guess myself. There weren’t many people that could do that once I made my mind up, but Anita was apparently one of them. She wasn’t mean about it; more like she wanted to challenge me to be more…me.

  I looked at her nervously. “Yes?”

  “Judging by the way you said that as a question, I’m going to assume that you aren’t sure.” She disappeared into the closet, and came back out with the same two garment bags that had been hanging inside for the past week. I hadn’t even taken them out since she brought them over the week before, even though I was supposed to be taking the week to make a decision.

  She set both on the bed, and pulled them out one by one. The first was the black dress; the one I had originally thought I wanted to wear. The dress itself was a simple pencil silhouette and strapless, though it had a black lace overlay with elbow-length sleeves. It really was understated, yet still beautiful. I had fallen in love with it when she pulled it out of the bag the week before, but something did seem off. I wasn’t quite sure what.

  The second dress she pulled out was the red dress that Darcy wanted me to wear. This one was long and fitted, with a high neckline and low back. It was se
xy without being too explicit, though the sheer paneling across the midriff and up the leg did make me nervous.

  “Now, if you really want to wear the black one, I won’t stop you. But, I do have one more option that I brought with me today. It was rushed over to me from Reem Acra earlier this afternoon, and I think it might be exactly what you’re looking for.” With that, she disappeared out of the bedroom, and came back in with another garment bag. I watched curiously as she brought the bag over to where I stood, and unzipped it slowly.

  The dress she pulled out of that bag was my dress. It was absolutely perfect, in every sense of the word.

  Multiple layers of white silk chiffon made up the skirt, which flowed all the way to the floor. The bodice had metallic beading over a champagne, almost nude, lining. It was cut into a subtle V-neck, with off the shoulder straps.

  I felt myself nodding slowly, though I don’t remember doing it consciously. It was better than anything I’d ever imagined; I’d never even seen a dress like it. Anita just smiled, as if she’d planned the whole thing all along.

  “Our goal today, Miss Mellie, has always been for you to make a statement tonight. And this is exactly how we’re going to do that.”

  It took Anita’s five person team four hours to get me ready for the premiere. My nails were buffed and filed, and painted a shimmery blush pink. They exfoliated and moisturized my skin, and stayed true to my minimal makeup requirement, though Anita did insist on adding a bit of shimmer to my eyes. My mess of hair took up almost two of those hours just on its own; it was dried and curled, then pulled off of my face into a smooth, retro wave that was held back by a simple pearl barrette.

  Finally, after what felt like far too long to be spent on primping a non-celebrity, I was apparently ready to put my new dress on. Jackson had come home sometime during that marathon session, but he’d been denied access to the bedroom and bathroom by Anita. She’d forced him to get ready in the guest bathroom, which I’m sure he wasn’t happy about. To be fair, it probably only took him about fifteen minutes to get ready.