Accidental Texting: Finding Love despite the Spotlight

by Kimberly Montague

  "What?" I had laughed with Floyd and felt like he understood what I was going through, but there was nothing more than that.

  "I heard it all from Chrissy. You can't lie about it. You were flirting with him on the red carpet then I watched you over there with him. I'm not blind. How could you pretend to be all upset about me with Michelle when you were all over Floyd?"

  Again, I couldn't process what he was saying enough to respond with anything but an irate "What?"

  "Is this what you're like, Morgan? I realize our relationship was just starting out, but your behavior is not acceptable."

  My whole body pulsed with anger as his words sunk in. How dare he! "Who the hell is Chrissy?"

  "One of my handlers. Are you surprised she told me about you and Floyd?"

  I studied him for a moment, my hands clenched in fists at my sides. He'd been downing shots. "Are you drunk?" It was the only explanation I could come up with for his stupidity. Why on earth would he believe Chrissy? Didn't he know me?

  "No, sweetheart." It was the only time he'd ever used that nickname in a derogatory way, and it made me feel sick and cheap. He glared at me. "God, I can't believe you did that in front of—"

  I pulled in a deep breath and stepped closer to him. "It's you I can't believe! Some girl tells you I'm all over Floyd and you see me laugh a few times and immediately think I'm after someone else. How could you even—you know what, it's not even worth arguing about. You're absolutely right, this whole thing is unacceptable. I don't know why I thought this could work." I started to turn away from him, but he grabbed my arm again.

  "Best defense is a good offense, huh, Morgan? Well I don't fall for games."

  I lowered my voice to make it as deadly as I could. "I'm not interested in games either, Sean. I was interested in you, but you just destroyed that. I just want three things from you, and I'm done." He raised his eyebrow like he thought this would be good. Probably thought I was going to ask for money or some shit like that. Jerk! How could I have misjudged him so completely? "One, turn to your own fucking friend, and ask him what the hell happened on the red carpet instead of trusting some random chick. Two, remind yourself that I don't have a fucking clue about this world you live in or how to juggle twenty different ulterior motives like these people. And three." I glared at him with disgust. "Go to hell."

  I didn't give him a chance to respond but turned to storm away. It took everything in me not to burst into angry tears and when that burned off a bit, heartbroken tears threatened to fall. Damn it. Why did I let myself fall for the asshole? It took me twenty minutes to find my way to the front of the hotel where I could get a cab, but I had no idea where Sean lived. I only had my license and my debit card on me. I couldn't get home with that. I couldn't even get to the airport with that. My credit cards were in my wallet in my purse in Sean's bedroom.

  As I sat on a bench in the lobby of the hotel, I let it all run through my head. Chrissy. Why the hell would she lie? Ulterior motives—this city was full of them. And Sean fell for it. I thought he would have been better prepared for the games other people would try to play. And I was still seriously pissed about his possessiveness and how he hadn't bothered to give me the benefit of the doubt, but he'd been played. Still, I was quite certain this wouldn't be the last time someone would try to come between us. If I couldn't trust him to trust me now, how could I put my faith in him in the future?

  My heart ached so badly. He could have been acting when he said he loved me, but if I was expecting him to give me the benefit of the doubt then I needed to do the same. And if he truly loved me, wasn't it worth giving another shot? Wasn't it about time I actually invested myself in the possibility of a relationship? I didn't want to be scarred so badly by Brent that I ran from every guy at the drop of a hat. Granted, this was a pretty big hat, but I could see how he'd been manipulated.

  At the very least, I needed to get back to Sean's place, so I took out my cell phone and called Stewie.

  "Morgan? Wha—where are you?" He sounded surprised. Maybe Sean hadn't shared his newfound knowledge with him yet. He certainly seemed clueless.

  I wasn't about to explain it, though. "In the lobby. I need to get back to Sean's house, but I don't have any cash, and I don't even know the address."

  "I—just—stay there, I'll come get you."

  Ten minutes later, Stewie took a seat on the bench next to me. "Busy night, huh?" I just nodded, unsure of whether he believe Chrissy or not. He pulled my hand between his. "He's an idiot, Morgan. He heard it all from Nathan and is up there trying to get completely plastered. He knows he fucked up. I can't get him to leave the bar. The photographers are gonna have a field day when he succeeds in getting drunk."

  He knew he fucked up. It wasn't enough to outright forgive him, but it was enough to hear what he had to say. I let my shoulders slump. "Take me to him."

  His smile was wide and immediate. "He doesn't deserve you."

  I just shook my head at that and thought about the fearful expression in Sean's eyes as he told me he loved me. I wanted to be with him. I wanted it to work.

  By the time we got back up to the party, Sean wasn't at the bar. Stewie put his ear piece in and asked, "Rudy, where is he?" A second later, he looked at me, "Hallway by the bathrooms." I started walking in that direction, but Stewie grabbed my arm and shook his head. He looked a little sick to his stomach. "Uh, you shouldn't—he's uh—" His discomfort made me yank my hand from his and walk as quickly as I could to the bathrooms.

  I saw Sean's back first, but it took a moment for me to register the female hands wrapped around him. My heart dropped to my stomach where it burned, making me want to throw up. Rudy stepped in my pathway, blocking me from moving forward, but I got close enough to see Sean's gray dress shirt, his spikey dark hair, and Michelle in her stunning silver dress.

  His tongue was buried in her mouth, and she certainly looked like she was enjoying herself. I couldn't believe it. I just stood there, unable to digest the image being fed to me. It just couldn't be.

  "Sean!" Stewie shouted from behind me as he rushed closer to them.

  Sean pulled back, and his eyes bounced around everywhere as he stumbled a bit. He was seriously drunk.

  Somehow, I managed to turn and run away. I tried to find the doors we came in through, but my mind wasn't functioning rationally. I headed for the first open door I could find, but it just led to another room full of people. I refused to cry. I refused to let any of these fake smiles see how destroyed I felt. I was strong. Hands grasped my arms, and I turned around, expecting it to be Sean but found Stewie instead. Sean didn't even come after me? Strong, damn it! I told myself. No tears.

  Stewie pulled me into a hug. "Let me take you home, Morgan. I'll get you out of here, just stay with me."

  I think I nodded, and Stewie took my hand in his and pulled me through the room. I vaguely remember getting in a limo. It wasn't our limo. It was silver and smaller than Sean's. Sean. With just Stewie in the limo across from me, the tears broke through and ran down my cheeks. Stewie handed me a box of tissue and moved to the seat next to me, holding me in his arms as I cried my eyes out. I think I went through half the box before we got back to Sean's.

  Stewie let me in, and I ran upstairs. I managed to stop the gut-wrenching sobs, but tears were still falling, and I was finding it hard to deal with the pain in my chest. I yanked off my shoes and my dress, washed my face and put my own clothes on. Shoving my things in my bag, I found Stewie in the doorway of Sean's bedroom.

  "I need a cab, Stewie." My voice sounded awful and scratchy. "Please?"

  "Morgan, you should stay here."

  "Stewie!" I shook with tears and anger.

  "Okay, Morgan. Come on. I'll drive you." He stepped out into the hallway.

  The mirror caught my eye, the one with my pictures. I couldn't stop myself from grabbing at each and every one and ripping them to shreds. The earrings still in my ears sparkled at me, and I yanked them out and threw them on the pile of picture
s. I felt completely broken as I kneeled on the floor in front of the pile with my hands covering my face.

  Stewie finally came in and pulled me into his arms. "I'm so sorry, Morgan. I just—I'm so sorry."

  I was shaking and crying and I tried to get up, but I was so burnt out. "Help me. Please. I don't want to be here."

  "I know, honey." He put his arm around my waist and helped me up, supporting a lot of my weight. It seemed to take forever, but we finally got into a black SUV parked at the curb.

  Several quiet minutes passed as we drove out of the community, and I tried to pull myself together. I was a total wreck, but I managed to stop sobbing.

  "Morgan, I know he'll realize what a mistake he's made. I tried—"

  "Stewie, I like you. You're a good guy, but if you don't stay out of this, I'll associate you with it. It'll be hard to see you or hang out with you and Annalisa. I don't want that to happen. I need you to choose between trying to clean up Sean's mess or trying to maintain a workable friendship with me. You can't have both."

  He sighed. "I don't… okay, Morgan. I choose Annalisa, and I'll butt out." His cell phone started ringing. He pulled it out and put it to his ear. "This is Stewie." I could hear very loud talking on the other end and had a pretty good idea it was Sean. "Look, I'll try, but I can't work magic here." He held the phone out to me. "Sean wants to talk to you."

  "He can go to hell." I returned my gaze to the window but continued to listen.

  "Sean, I can't make her talk to you… Well you should have thought about that before you—" More yelling in the background made tears fill my eyes again, but I held myself together. "No… You heard me, no! I'm staying out of this. I have to… Don't do that to me, it's not fair… Look, I'll try, but I don't blame her, Sean." He hit end on the phone call.

  Several more minutes passed in silence. I thought he might actually leave me alone when he sighed loudly. "I know you don't want to hear it, but I'm just gonna say a couple things, and then I won't say anything else. He's sorry, Morgan. He knows he made a mistake. Michelle knew exactly what to say to push his buttons. She played on his past experiences, and when he saw you enjoying yourself, he freaked. When you walked away, he knew how badly he'd screwed up, and started drinking everything in sight. But that's no excuse. He said he's not gonna stop trying to get you to forgive him—that's all."

  When we got to the airport, Stewie stayed with me as I stood in line to get a ticket. I never realized how expensive it was to fly cross country at the last minute. I nearly passed out when the girl behind the counter told me it would be almost a thousand dollars. I didn't have that kind of money to spend on a ticket.

  "Let me." Stewie handed the girl his credit card.

  "No, I don't want Sean's—"

  Stewie sighed so sadly. "It's my money, Morgan, not Sean's. You're my friend, and I feel partly responsible for all of this. Let me get you home, please. It's the least I can do."

  I didn't have much of a choice. I nodded.

  My flight was still two hours away, so Stewie stayed with me. I was so tired emotionally and physically. I just wanted to curl up and sleep for a long, long time. True to his word, Stewie did not bring up Sean again. He didn't even say anything to me, but he sat next to me.

  When I was ready to drop into a coma from exhaustion, he put his arm around me. "Lean against me, and close your eyes. You look so tired, Morgan."

  I finally gave in and fell asleep immediately. I don't know how long I'd actually managed to rest, but Stewie shook me awake.

  "Morgan?"

  Sean? No. My eyes flew open, and I sat up abruptly, trying to move away from him. Sean was inches from me in jeans, a hooded sweatshirt and a baseball cap. He was kneeling on the floor in front of me with his hands on my knees. I nearly kicked him.

  "Get—away—from—me," I said quietly and deadly.

  "Morgan, please. I'm so sorry. Please don't leave me. I fucked up. I totally fucked up. Please." His eyes were almost horrifyingly bloodshot, but at least he'd sobered up enough not to slur.

  I leaned forward so he could hear me without causing more of a scene. "Listen to me carefully. You can't fix this with an 'I'm sorry.' This isn't one of your movies, and I'm not one of those skanky chicks you were dating. You really really hurt me." My voice broke, and I took a deep breath to steady it. "Have the decency to leave me alone."

  "I can't. I can't lose you, Morgan. I—"

  "Sean…" I stared deep into his eyes, trying to be forceful and trying to remember them at the same time. "You already did." It felt like someone was stabbing my chest with a machete. I got up, grabbed my bag, and walked to the security checkpoint where he couldn't follow me. I refused to look, but I could feel him watching me. When I made it quickly through the short line and turned down the corridor to the gates, I was finally able to breathe again and let the searing pain burn through me like it wanted to. It was done.

  Vultures

  I slept most of the first leg of the flight. In Chicago, I called Cerise. She said she'd already spoken to Stewie and would be at the airport waiting for me. Thankfully, she didn't ask me any questions or push me for information. I had a feeling Stewie had given her all the details.

  I was pleasantly surprised to feel pretty numb the whole way home. When I climbed into Cerise's car, it felt familiar and much safer than the world I'd left on the West Coast. Curling up on the seat, I closed my eyes as Cerise patted my hand and sang to the radio.

  The rest of the week was all about getting back into my routine. Between Thanksgiving and the mess with S—well, the California mess, it was nice to do regular day-to-day things. I'd spent an entire night crying my eyes out to Cerise and Annalisa when I explained everything to them. Cerise was ready to castrate Sean, but Annalisa stayed quiet when Cerise was bashing him. After a few days, the aching I felt at the mention of his name went from bad to worse. It cut off my breath and made me gasp. Cerise and Annalisa stopped bringing him up entirely. It helped, but at night, in bed alone, I cried myself to sleep thinking about him and wishing I'd never met him in person.

  By Friday, Stewie was back. He said hello to me and chatted about mundane things like sports or how the inn was doing, but he didn't bring up Sean. I was happy and disturbed by this. Had Sean gotten over me so soon? But I had to remind myself that I'd asked Stewie not to mention Sean. He was just doing what I wanted. Still, every time I saw Stewie, the thought that Sean had moved on burned in my chest, forcing me to walk away from him and fight through the pain in private. I wanted so much to just sit back and be happy for the completely awesome way Stewie smiled at Annalisa. He was so in love with her. The way he looked into her eyes was like Se—I'm sure a lot of guys loved their girlfriends like that.

  On Saturday, Jake and I were hanging Christmas garlands in the dining room when Stewie came in, looking upset.

  "Jake, can I have a minute with Morgan?"

  I didn't want to be alone with him. I tried to distract myself with the decorations, not looking at him.

  Stewie came close to me, but I kept moving away from him. Finally he grabbed my arm lightly. "Please look at me."

  I shook my head rapidly. I couldn't. Didn't he understand that I couldn't? I kept my eyes on the silver star in my hand.

  "Morgan, please?" The pleading in his voice made it so much worse, but I lifted my gaze and tried so hard to keep the emotions off my face. When he looked hurt, I knew I failed and looked away, crossing my arms over my chest, trying to squeeze away the pain.

  "I understand, Morgan, but damn it, I hate that I cause you pain. He hates that he caused you pain."

  I didn't give a damn what Sean hated! I clenched my jaw and threw the silver star at the wall as hard as I could before walking quickly out of the inn. I could only get as far as the porch before the snow stopped me and the fact that I hadn't even grabbed my jacket. I refused to cry, though and enjoyed the pain of the cold as opposed to the heartache.

  The door opened behind me and Stewie's voice was very firm and w
ithout emotion. "I won't mention him again, but we need to have a serious discussion. Please come back inside."

  I breathed in and out for a few moments then walked inside to sit at a table across from Stewie. Spread out on the surface of the table, I noticed several magazines. My stomach burned.

  "You need to know what's headed your way." He got my attention with that statement. On the cover of each tabloid magazine were pictures of Sean and me.

  My mouth fell open, and it felt like someone had hacked away at my chest with a dull spoon. I missed him so much on a daily basis, but seeing the pictures hit me like a ton of bricks. I stared down at one of me standing on the red carpet with the headline: "Sean Wilder's New Girlfriend Scorned by Renewal of Tryst with Michelle Stevens." I turned to the next paper. "Sean Wilder Goes on Partying Binge after New Girlfriend Leaves Him." The accompanying image was of Sean being half carried out of a bar by Nathan and Rudy. "Sean's Vermont Lover Says No to Open Relationship with Michelle Stevens." That one had a picture of the two of us at the airport, Sean kneeling in front of me. The last magazine—the one Stewie must have purposely put on the end—was the worst. "Morgan Edwards' Attempt to Break Up the Happy Couple of 'Until Tomorrow.'"

  "Oh, God." I could feel the bile rising in my throat. They knew my name. They plastered my picture all over the magazines. My hands were shaking. "Are these—these are out right now?" Stewie nodded. "Everyone knows?" Sweat was beading on my forehead. "The old bitties, Petey, oh God."

  "I saw a few photographers in town this morning. It won't be long before they come here. I'm hiring a security guard to keep them out of here, but they have a right to camp outside."

  "You can't—I don't want you to spend your money on me. I'll—"

  "Sean insisted." I winced and shook my head, but Stewie continued, "It's his fault, Morgan. He doesn't want you to be in any danger."

  "I don't want his money or anything to do with him."

  "Morgan, you need this."