Michael felt his heart breaking as he looked at her and he tried to come towards her but she held up her hands and stopped him, shaking her head.
“No, please. Don’t. What’s happening here, it’s probably the single most agonising thing I have ever experienced and I am so confused, so fucking confused, Michael. I miss Joe so much, I really do, and to know that he doesn’t even want to speak to me is something I just can’t deal with. But then I look at you, and I remember everything we had and how I felt about you and it feels like a part of me is being ripped away and that pain is excruciating, and I don’t understand …” The tears were streaming down her face but she didn’t care anymore. She hadn’t wanted to cry, she hadn’t wanted to show weakness around him but she was tired now. Tired of it all. Everything was such a mess anyway. How much worse could it get? “You … you have a hold over me that is so strong, Michael, so permanent, and I think you know that … you know that and you used that and … Jesus, what am I doing here?”
“India …”
She sat down, looking past him out of the window. The feeling of emptiness and despair that was ever-present now was overwhelming her.
“I don’t know what to do,” she said, her voice a whisper. “I don’t.”
He looked at her. She’d lost so much weight, she looked so much younger, but so tired. She looked worn out, and whose fault was that?
“I think we need a drink.”
She looked up at him with the eyes of a confused and frightened child and he felt his heart break all over again. He loved this woman so much yet he’d broken her completely. And all he wanted to be able to do was put her back together.
She watched him walk away into the kitchen, then she stared down at her clasped hands, at the JJ tattoo on her left wrist. She’d got that done when she’d only known him for a matter of weeks but even then she’d known she was going to fall in love with him. She’d known he was going to be so important to her and now he was gone and it wasn’t just Michael’s fault. If she’d told the truth from the start he’d have had no ammunition. She was to blame. She’d stupidly kept secrets from JJ, she’d handled things so badly and now he was gone and she felt like her world had ended, that’s the only way she could describe the dark feeling that engulfed her.
As she looked around the room, her eyes fell on a pile of newspapers on the chair by the fire and she got up and went over to them, even though she had no idea why. It was as though something was making her feel the need to see what was there, something she couldn’t explain because she had no interest in the news. She had no interest in anything except JJ. He was the only thing she cared about, the only thing that mattered.
She pulled out the newspaper from the top of the pile and unfolded it, shaking it out and scanning the pages, and that’s when her heart stopped dead, or that’s what it felt like. A tight, searing pain shot across her chest and small but loud sobs came out of nowhere as she looked at the picture staring her in the face. A picture of her husband - and another woman. She wasn’t a well known face; India didn’t know who she was, all she knew was that there in front of her was a picture of this woman, holding onto JJ, and it was like someone had taken a cold, icy hand and grabbed at her heart, a searing pain that hurt like hell.
Michael heard the cries from the kitchen and came crashing back into the living room, racing over to her, taking the paper from her shaking hands, throwing it straight onto the fire as he pulled her into his arms, her body trembling against his, the sobs racking it as he tried to hold her close. Hearing her cry like this, like some wounded animal, so primitive was the noise, it tore him apart. She was his beautiful, English angel and she always would be and what he’d done to her was going to live with him forever, and so it should. He should always carry these images with him to make him finally realise that everything he’d ever done to hurt her had been wrong. Yet the way he loved her just felt so right. But somewhere along the line he’d lost control and this was his punishment. This was what he had to live with.
He sat her down, still holding her and she wasn’t letting go. She clung onto him as the crying finally subsided and he tilted her chin up so she looked at him, her eyes a mirror of pain and heartbreaking grief and it was all he could to do keep his own emotions in check.
She stared at him, searching his face for something, anything that could help her understand what was going on in her head but everything was so mixed up in there that nothing could help now. Her husband was over her, he was thousands of miles away not caring how she felt while she spent every day with a broken heart and nothing but uncertainty ahead of her. What was she supposed to do now?
Michael put a hand to her face, gently stroking her tears away, and then, without even thinking, without even caring about the repercussions, he lowered his mouth down onto hers and kissed her slowly, feeling her respond immediately, even though he shouldn’t really be doing this, he knew that, because she was emotional and vulnerable but he couldn’t stop himself. And as her hand covered his, her fingers curling around it, he held onto her tightly as the kiss got deeper and longer, neither of them breaking away, even as he gently pushed her back onto the sofa. She felt smaller, more fragile as he pulled away her clothes, her skin so soft as he trailed his fingers over her stomach, hearing her gasp out loud as they moved down, touching her in a place that had once been home for him, and every feeling he had for this woman suddenly overwhelmed him, he wanted her so much. He needed her. Did she need him too?
She closed her eyes and arched her back as the familiar touch of her ex-husband invaded her body, his breath warm on her face as he kissed her neck, gently pushing her legs apart, and for the first time in days she felt almost liberated, free from the crushing despair she woke up with every day and she didn’t care that this was wrong and crazy, she just wanted to not think about JJ, she wanted to be able to forget that he was out of her life and if being here with Michael did that for just a few hours then she could deal with it. She could do that.
She cried out as he pushed his way inside her; slow, gentle movements, and he held her tight and kissed her mouth as he became a part of her, his hand in the small of her back, pushing her against him, and he couldn’t help thinking how fragile she felt, how tiny she seemed in his arms. This woman that he would always, always love.
It was the most beautiful, surreal and dangerous act they were undertaking, but it was wrong. It shouldn’t be happening, and as she clung onto him, holding him so tight as that crashing climax enveloped them both she knew, deep down, that this was the beginning of the end. This was goodbye. It had to be. And the pain that realisation brought with it was the worst pain she’d ever felt in her life.
CHAPTER 72
“What the fuck is going on here, India?” Kenny asked, as she sat staring into space at the kitchen table. He sat down opposite her, trying to get some kind of response out of her but it was like she’d just shut down again.
She spent her days trying to get through to JJ followed by hours sitting curled up on the sofa crying in front of episodes of ‘Covert One’. It was heartbreaking and worrying and painful to watch and there wasn’t a thing he could do. She wouldn’t even talk to Bobby, who was usually always the one guaranteed to make her smile in any situation, but it seemed even he was failing here.
Charley and Vince, who were calling all the time from Las Vegas, wanted her to come and stay with them for a while but she didn’t want that. She didn’t want to go anywhere. She wanted to stay where she was until her husband came back to her. Her behaviour wasn’t rational or sensible and Kenny was getting scared. Scared he was losing his friend.
He spoke more quietly as he looked at her, but she still wasn’t looking at him.
“Isn’t it time we thought about going back to The States, India? Huh? What do you reckon? Maybe it’s time we went home, babe.”
“I am home,” she said, still not looking at him.
Her split from JJ was common knowledge now. He was over in L.A., pictured out and
about with different women, yet it was the pictures taken of him with Ellie that broke India’s heart more than anything. Their perfect family was in ruins and she couldn’t bear it. If she stayed here in Britain she didn’t have to face it, she could hide away here. She could stay out of the limelight; go back to being just, India.
Kenny tried to take her hand but she pulled it away.
“India, your home is Los Angeles, you know it is, and you need to get back over there. You need to start thinking rationally and you need to get your head together and snap out of this.”
She looked at him, her eyes suddenly showing signs of life he hadn’t seen in a while. “Snap out of this? You want me to snap out of this?”
“Yes, India, I do. For your own good because this is making you ill. It’s changing you and I don’t like it.”
She turned away from him again, looking out of the window in front of her. The sun was shining, making the snow that had fallen overnight look even whiter and she wished for a second that her children were here with her. They’d never seen snow. They would have loved this.
“I’m not stopping anyone from going back to Los Angles, Kenny. I still don’t know why you and dad and Bobby are all still here.”
“We’re all still here because we love you and we care about what happens to you. Do you think it’s easy for us, seeing you like this?”
She looked down at her wedding ring again. She’d noticed in the photos of JJ she’d seen lately that he was still wearing his. That had to be a good thing, didn’t it?
“I really don’t need anyone, Kenny.”
“Well, that’s not entirely true though, is it? Because, you need somebody, don’t you?”
She’d been leaving the house now and again over the past few days, and although she’d told him she just wanted to be alone, Kenny had a feeling that wasn’t the case. Something was going on that he didn’t know about and it concerned him. Because he had an awful feeling that he knew exactly where she was going. And who she was seeing. He just hoped he was wrong.
She looked up at him when he said that, her eyes meeting his.
“What’s going on, India? Me and Reece, we’re worried, babe.”
“Nothing’s going on.” She looked down at the table, fiddling with the mug sitting in front of her. “He’s helping me, Kenny.”
“Who’s helping you, India?”
She looked back up at him, and in that second, with that one look, he knew. She’d just confirmed his worst fears.
“Jesus, India! This is helping is it? What the fuck ...”
“Don’t lecture me, Kenny. If JJ doesn’t want me ... if he can do what he’s doing ...”
“And doing exactly the same thing makes it ok, does it?”
“I’m not doing exactly the same thing.”
“Aren’t you?”
He stood up, kicking the chair back under the table. “Why are you making things worse, India? What the hell are you playing at?”
“I need him, Kenny. You know how it is.”
He came over to her, placing his hands on the table in front of her, leaning forward so his face was close to hers. “No, India, I don’t know how it is, and I don’t think you do either.” He stood up straight, pushing a hand through his hair. “I don’t believe you. This is crazy!”
She didn’t move from the table, didn’t look at Kenny as he paced the floor.
“Why, India? Why complicate this situation any more than it already is? What the hell is going on here?”
“I can’t let him go, Kenny. Despite everything he’s done, despite the fact he’s turned my world upside down I can’t let him go.” Her voice was quiet. “But I know I have to.”
“India, baby, this isn’t right.”
She looked up at him. “He’s so much a part of me, nobody will ever understand. Nobody. Except him. He understands.”
“He’s fucking brainwashing you! Have you any idea how crazy this all sounds? He destroyed your life, India. Twice. And every time you begin to deal with that you let him right back in and I don’t understand how you can do that, honey. I can’t get my head around it.”
She looked down at her hands. “It’s complicated.”
“You’re fucking telling me.”
She put her head in her hands; she didn’t want to hear him talking anymore. She didn’t need the lectures and the disapproving looks. She knew what she was doing. She could handle this. She knew where it was all heading and she was dealing with it.
“Look at me, India. Look at me, come on.”
She slowly looked up, getting up from the table and walking over to him.
“My head is like cotton wool, Kenny. It’s messed up, it’s all over the place. Joe won’t talk to me, I can’t think straight, I can’t eat or sleep and the only time I feel vaguely normal or human, the only time I actually feel like doing anything is when I’m with Michael. I can talk to him...”
“But you’re not talking, are you?”
She looked at him again. “He makes me feel better.”
“Yeah, of course he does.”
She started to walk away but he grabbed her arm, swinging her back around.
“You can talk to me. Eighteen years, India, eighteen fucking years I’ve been there for you. You can talk to me.”
She shook her head. “No. I can’t.” She folded her arms against her. “I don’t expect anyone to understand what’s happening here, Kenny, because I’m not sure I understand it myself but ...” She looked up at him, her eyes heavy with tears. “I had to be with him. One more time. Oh God, I can’t do this …”
Kenny didn’t know what to say, what to think. This was all out of control, it was insane!
“Jesus ... how can you let him do this to you? After everything he’s done … what the fuck is he thinking? You’re vulnerable and he’s taking advantage, India, can’t you see that? That’s it, you’re coming home; we’re getting out of here and going back to L.A. You need to get your head sorted and it’s quite obviously not happening here.”
She let him talk, she watched as he ranted on about flight times and getting back to America but all the time she knew she wasn’t going anywhere. She was staying right here. She’d go back to The States when JJ wanted her to but until then she couldn’t face being in places that brought back memories. She couldn’t face being close to where he was and having him reject her again. She didn’t have the strength to cope with that.
“Kenny? Can I have a word?” Reece asked, coming into the kitchen, quickly looking over at India.
“What’s so private that you can’t talk to him here?” India asked, leaning back against the breakfast bar.
Reece looked at her then back at Kenny. “Michael’s here.”
“Is he now,” Kenny said. “I hope you told him he’s not welcome.”
“What does he want?” India asked.
They both looked at her.
“What do you mean, what does he want?”
“I mean exactly that, Kenny.” She looked at Reece. “What does he want, dad?”
“Sweetheart ...”
“Can you just answer me, please? What does Michael want?”
“He wants to talk to you.”
“Then let him.”
“What?” Kenny said, staring at India. “You want to talk to him? You sure that’s all you want to do?”
She threw him a warning look. “I’ll talk to him,” she said to Reece.
Reece couldn’t help but notice that comment from Kenny and the look that had passed between him and his daughter, but he didn’t want to know. He really didn’t. He wasn’t sure how much more he could handle.
“You don’t have to do this, India. I can tell him to go.”
“Tell him to go anyway,” Kenny said. “Tell him to get out of here.”
“Will you stop running my bloody life!” India shouted.
“Well, you’re showing no signs of being able to run it yourself,” Kenny shouted back. “You’re acting like an idiot, I
ndia; you haven’t got a fucking clue what you’re doing. You’re crazy!”
“Hey, hey, come on!” Reece said. “That’s enough. Enough!” He looked at Kenny. “If she wants to talk to Michael, let her talk to him.”
“Then I’m staying with her.”
“Are you?” India said, looking at Kenny.
He stared back at her. “Yes. I am.”
She shook her head. “Nobody’s staying with me. Let him in, dad. I’ll be fine.”
“Reece, she’s not fine. She’s so far from fine you wouldn’t believe ...”
“Kenny!” India stared at him, the look in her eyes telling him to say nothing more to her father. She wasn’t fine, she knew that herself. But she was perfectly capable of handling her ex-husband, and something inside her was telling her that maybe it was time this happened. It had always been heading here so maybe it was time to take control. She’d known it was coming. Even if the thought of it happening still hurt.
Reece looked at his daughter. She was permanently tired, always sad and it was tearing him apart. He’d tried to talk to JJ but he wasn’t listening to anything Reece had to say. He didn’t want to talk to India, simple as that. And there was nothing anyone could do.
She had Bobby cancelling work; she was refusing to speak to her children, refusing to talk to her publicity people or her management team. She was shutting everything and everybody out except for a few close people and it wasn’t healthy. It wasn’t right.
“Are you sure you don’t want either of us to stay with you?” Reece asked.
She shook her head. “Just let him in. He isn’t going to do anything else, is he? I think even he knows there isn’t much else left he could do that could hurt me any more.”
“He could take Ethan away from you,” Kenny said, and both Reece and India looked at him as he said that.
“He wouldn’t do that,” India whispered. “He wouldn’t do that to me.”
“Well, you’re not being much of a mother to him right now, are you?”
“That’s enough, Kenny!” Reece said.
Kenny looked over at India, knowing that last statement from him had floored her. But if it had kicked some sense into her then he wasn’t sorry he’d said it.
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