Beyond Hereafter (The Movie Trilogy Book 3)

by Kimberly Adams

  She nodded, her wide eyes studying me intently. “You think I won’t take you back?” she whispered, shaking her head. “No Keaton. I can’t imagine my life without you.”

  She smiled and closed her eyes.

  Within moments the trailer was silent other than the sound of her soft snoring.

  I gazed down at her, letting her candid words sink in. She still loves me. Exhilaration, relief, and pure joy raced through my veins. I bent to press a kiss to her forehead, reaching for the blankets to tuck her in securely.

  I was positive she’d wake up sick. After laying a towel down on the floor, I lined a wastebasket with two trash bags and placed it against the edge of the bed. I made sure to turn her on her side before returning to the oversized chair and ottoman, trying to make myself as comfortable as possible.

  Sure enough, not two hours later, she woke up moaning.

  “Bathroom,” she mumbled. I raced to her side, turning her over the trashcan just in time.

  She passed out again, and by morning, I realized that neither one of us were making it to the set by six.

  She stumbled to my bathroom, glancing my way and groaning. “Keaton. What…?”

  “I put you to bed. Nothing more.”

  She brushed her hair out of her face with the back of her hand, nodding and continuing to the bathroom.

  I hurried to her trailer, opening the door without giving a fuck about Salter. He was gone, and the remnants of their drinking party lined the trashcan. Rolling my eyes, I found her oversized, terry-cloth robe and returned to my trailer.

  The shower was still running, and I reached in and hung her robe on the hook on the inside of the door. “It’s just me. I got your robe, it’s hanging here on the door. Take your time, I’m going to shower at your trailer.”

  She opened the door a crack, her flushed face peeking out at me. Those wide eyes met mine. “Thank you. I’m sorry for this.”

  “Don’t be. Just meet me on the set. I’ll have coffee. All the coffee,” I added, winking.

  She gave me a tiny, grateful smile, returning to her shower.

  Hello-Goodbye

  V

  Somehow, my drunken night at Keaton’s trailer seemed to have changed something between us.

  We were more tolerant. More polite with each other. I started filming scenes with Ash while Keaton fully resumed the director role, maximizing every take. It was clear that the scenes that Keaton was directing were more fluid than Max’s scenes, and his talent as a director became abundantly obvious to everyone.

  “Good. Great work, everyone. We can call it a night. Vivian, Salter- really nice job today. Both of you,” Keaton called to us.

  Ash grinned and high-fived me. I moved toward Keaton, despite the group of people gathered around him asking questions.

  “V?” he asked, pointing to something in the script for one of the gaffers. “What’s up, baby?”

  I cleared my throat at his familiar endearment for me. “Um, can you come by later? I was hoping we could talk.”

  He looked up from the script quickly, his eyes meeting mine.

  “Yes. Absolutely. I’ll be over as soon as I wrap this up.”

  I nodded, giving him a gentle smile before turning to hurry to my trailer.

  The night seemed to drag on and on. I’d already changed my clothes three times, finally settling on a peasant blouse, jeans, and my favorite flip-flops. I wanted to remind him of the days we fell in love.

  I wanted to ask him to come back home.

  I was ready. After the night I stupidly drank too much and ended up in Keaton’s bed, I knew he’d been tempted to his core. Yet, he never touched me, or a drop of alcohol, and he cared for me throughout the night.

  God, I missed him.

  I didn’t know if I was doing the right thing. I knew there was always the possibility that what had happened could happen again, but I needed to believe in him.

  In us.

  He’d made it through rehab a changed person; that much was clear to me. I could tell he still struggled with the pain in his shoulder, but he chose his words carefully, and never did I see him pop one pill or take one drink of alcohol. I wanted to know more about how he was dealing with the pain. I needed to know that whatever method he’d found was healthy, and that there was longevity in his healing.

  I needed reassurance.

  When the heavy knock sounded at my door, I took a deep, calming breath, reaching for the handle.

  Keaton stood anxiously on the stoop, and the moment I opened the door, he started firing orders at me. “Pack your suitcase- just the basics. We have to be at the airport in- well, we should already be on the road-”

  “What’s wrong? Where are we going?” I demanded.

  “It’s Gram.”

  My knees weakened beneath me, and I reached for him as he caught my arms. “Is she okay?”

  He pulled me closer, the gold flecks in his eyes swimming in unshed tears.

  “No, baby.”

  I could only stare at him for long, unblinking moments. Finally, when the gravity of his words began to sink in, I fell forward.

  I was in his arms.

  I didn’t care about talking through our issues, or custody arrangements, or any of the topics on my agenda. I didn’t care about anything but getting back to Gram.

  “What happened? Keaton? I didn’t even get any calls-”

  “Your mom called me when she couldn’t get through to you. Gram is in the ICU. Let’s just get you packed up and I’ll tell you more on the plane, okay? Vivian. Look at me.”

  “You’re coming with me?” I cried, realizing for the first time that I was practically shouting.

  He cupped my face in his hands. “Of course I am, I made all the arrangements. I’m here for you. With you. You’re not alone, V. Where’s your suitcase, baby?” he asked, his tone rushed as he moved to open the closet doors.

  I turned to the dresser behind me, frantically yanking at the handles. “I can’t- I can’t focus-”

  His phone rang.

  He grumbled and reached for his back pocket, hurriedly pressing the phone to his ear. “What, Robin?” he demanded.

  The silence in the room was deafening. I could hear bits and pieces of Robin’s voice, but her words were unintelligible.

  Keaton turned to me, his face falling.

  I knew.

  The ache in my heart seemed to tear open my chest as the realization set in. I lowered to the bed, and Keaton followed, gathering me into his arms.

  Gram had been my haven, my place, my guide when my own mother wouldn’t be there for me. She held me and dried my tears, talked to me about life, and encouraged me to keep living.

  She promised me that I could make it through anything. She taught me about love, and what it truly meant to love another.

  She promised me that my broken heart wouldn’t last forever, and, now, it was breaking all over again.

  She was gone.

  “I shouldn’t have been here. I should have been there, with Charlie, spending time with her,” I sobbed, gripping Keaton’s shirt. “I’m so wrapped up in this- this dramatic life, and my own problems that I-”

  “You are living your life, V. That’s what Gram wanted you to do. Vivian,” he said, his deep baritone forcing me to lift my eyes to his. “She loved you so much. She trusted me to love you and care for you. Let me do that, please. Please give me this chance.”

  I choked back a fresh wave of tears, nodding, giving in and giving up on every shred of will that I had remaining. “I love you,” I cried, wrapping my arms around his neck. His familiar scent, his touch, the way he held me, everything about him felt like home.

  God, had I missed him.

  “I’ve got you, and I’m never letting you go,” he hushed, gripping me to his chest. His kisses trailed over my forehead as he smoothed my hair, comforting me with his quiet words. “I’m going to help you pack, and we’ll get to the airport. One step at a time, okay?”

  I pulled away, sea
rching his eyes.

  “I just want to go home,” I whispered achingly.

  He met my gaze, nodding. “I’m taking you home, baby. I’m taking us home.”

  …

  Keaton never left my side from the second we left Chambord. His priority was to get to Charlie. The moment we arrived at Luke’s apartment together, I could feel Luke’s disapproval of Keaton’s overeager, protective behavior.

  “I’m so sorry, Vivie,” Luke began. I watched Keaton push past his brother, moving to the car seat where Charlie was strapped in and ready to go. “I got a flight, but it’s not until tomorrow.”

  “We’re leaving this afternoon,” Keaton fired, hoisting diaper bags and duffle bags over his shoulder. “Thank you for caring for her while we were in France.”

  Luke rolled his eyes, and I cringed. “Caring for her? Sure, you’re welcome, Keaton. I’ve been the only dad she has ever known, don’t forget that.”

  I watched Keaton as his temper flared, and yet he managed to contain himself with Charlie in his arms. “That changes today.”

  Luke scoffed, crossing his arms over his broad chest. “I hope so. For Charlie’s sake.”

  I saw Keaton flinch, and knew his shoulder was throbbing under the weight of all the bags and the heavy car seat.

  I took Charlie from him, and he took that opportunity to close the personal space between him and Luke.

  “You did something unforgivable to Vivian. And so did I. Neither one of us are any better than the other. If I ever hurt her again, you have my permission to fuck me up.”

  Luke blinked, clearly taken aback by his brother’s words.

  “You have my word that I will.”

  “Good. And if you every touch my fiancée, or kiss her again, I will kill you. Brother or no brother. Are we clear?”

  He shot me a sideways glare, and I bravely kept my eyes locked in his.

  “I give you permission to try.”

  “Enough.” I stomped to the door, throwing it open and glaring at both of them. “We’re not doing this right now.”

  Keaton led me out the door without another word.

  We didn’t talk on the plane other than to care for Charlie. The flight was long and the layover gave us just enough time to feed the baby before boarding the next flight. By the time we landed in Pittsburgh, we were both exhausted and jet-lagged.

  Robin and Jane met us eagerly, gushing over Charlie and promising us both rest as soon as we got home. I couldn’t make it that long. As we pulled into the old Victorian house that Keaton grew up in, I woke up groggily, unsure what time it was or where we were.

  Jane brushed her hand over my shoulder tenderly. “We have the baby. Keaton, take her straight upstairs. She can barely keep her eyes open, poor dear,” she crooned, moving efficiently with Robin to gather all of our luggage.

  Somehow I made it to Keaton’s bedroom, lowering to the neatly made bed.

  And I slept.

  I was still fully dressed as I stirred sometime later, blinking to realize that Keaton was next to me. The silence in the dark room shook me awake, and I tried to sit up. “Where’s Charlie? What time is it?”

  “Shh. It’s a little after midnight. Charlie’s sound asleep in Robin’s room. Robin said she’ll get up with her tonight.”

  I stilled, running my hand over Keaton’s side. “You still have clothes on.”

  He was silent for a moment before exhaling a chuckle. “I can fix that if you like.”

  I rolled my eyes in the darkness, bumping him with my hip. “No, I just meant that you never changed clothes. You just crawled in the bed here, next to me.”

  “That’s where I wanted to be. I couldn’t get here fast enough.”

  I smiled weakly. “Oh.”

  “Oh? You sound disappointed.”

  I rolled my eyes again, shaking my head. “Bathroom. Shower. I’ll be back.”

  “Take your time,” he replied.

  I reached for my phone and used the backlight to guide me to the hallway. The moment I pressed the home button on the screen, I saw the barrage of message previews.

  Mom: Call me sweetie.

  Dad: Call us Vivian.

  Matthew: I’m so sorry, Vivian. I want to come pay my respects, but I need to know it’s okay with you first.

  Tossing my phone on the clean towel that Jane had so kindly laid out for me, I ignored all the messages and took a long, hot shower to clear my mind. By the time I was wrapped in the towel and making my way back to Keaton’s bedroom, it was nearly 2 AM.

  He as breathing softly, and I rolled over to face him, comforted by the darkness between us.

  “Hey, firecracker.”

  I smirked. “Hey, Maverick.”

  “Feel better?”

  “A little.”

  “You smell better.”

  “Gee thanks.”

  “Yep.”

  We lay in a comfortable silence for a long time as my mind toiled from subject to subject. Finally, I cleared my throat.

  “I need you to know,” I began, “that I love Luke in a… familial way. Like a brother. The kiss was… I was really in a bad place. And I didn’t feel anything.”

  He exhaled, and his mouth was so close to mine that I could feel the heat of his breath on my lips.

  “What do you mean, you didn’t feel anything?”

  I swallowed hard. “I didn’t feel… anything. Inside.”

  “Inside where?”

  I groaned, torn between laughing from sheer exhaustion and chastising him for mocking me.

  “Inside my body. My mind. My heart.”

  I felt his hand land on my lower back, and he tugged me closer, pressing me against his length.

  “Am I in all those places?”

  His lips moved against mine as he spoke.

  “You were.”

  He kissed me, feathery, so weightlessly that I wasn’t sure if it really happened. “Can I get back there?”

  “We’re working on it,” I replied, bowing my head to press my forehead to his chest. He tightened his grip on me.

  We drifted in and out of sleep. I thought about Gram, about all the times I’d spent with her when I was young. I thought about going to church with her, and working in her garden, and especially the long talks at the kitchen table after I’d lost the baby.

  I didn’t realize that I’d started crying again. Keaton was brushing his fingers over my hair, pressing loving kisses to my forehead. “She was a wonderful woman. You’re so much like her, Vivian.”

  “I don’t know who to talk to anymore, about all the things in my heart,” I managed.

  “You can talk to me,” he offered. “You’re my best friend. I can be yours. I’ll even get us those halfsie-heart necklaces. But I want the BE FRI side, okay?”

  I exhaled a breathy, tearful laugh. “Whatever you want, director.”

  “Talk to me,” he urged.

  His invitation prodded at my words. I realized that we’d been through so much in such a short amount of time, and yet very rarely did we ever really talk- seriously, without deflecting to sex.

  I also realized that if this man would someday be my husband, it was time to be honest.

  Honesty had never been my strongest attribute and he knew that, so I closed my eyes and pretended that I was talking to Gram.

  “I was in love with Matthew,” I poured, unable to stop the words as they erupted from the deepest parts of my heart. “I loved him so much. But after Rory, I just… I didn’t. I didn’t anymore. I drove to Gram’s and left him behind hoping- praying- that he’d just move on, find someone else… so I wouldn’t have to break his heart the way mine was broken. I didn’t want him to hurt the way that I was hurting. Does that make me a coward?”

  “Yes,” he answered quickly, continuing to stroke my hair. I stiffened, and he continued. “But can anyone really say their first break-up was handled with effortless maturity? You were so very young. You still are. We are.”

  I nodded, taking a deep, calming
breath. “I appreciate your honesty. And, no, I guess I wasn’t very mature.”

  “And then you met me.”

  “And then I met you. And it was just this… this whirlwind weekend of games and drinking and shopping… and the Ferrari and the wedding, and the amusement park… but it was just that. One weekend. How could I walk away from years with Matthew, plans, dreams… even the grief that we shared. I owed him more than that. My conscience was beating me up. I needed to go home with Matthew. It was the right thing to do. You were... one long weekend, Keaton.”

  I heard him exhale a shaking breath.

  He said nothing.

  “And then I hurt you. And when I found out I was pregnant with Charlie, I wanted to apply what I’d learned from my mistakes of the past- not to “end up” with you just because I’d been reckless and made impulsive choices. But I had already started the fall with you, Keaton. I already loved you, and I loved you that weekend and ever since. You were just like me. My perfect match. Everything about you… your wit, your humor, your impossibly stubborn nature… I loved all of you. And I loved our baby growing inside of me.”

  “I know, V,” he whispered confidently, his lips brushing my cheek, just next to my own lips.

  I puffed out a short laugh. “Of course you know. You’re so confident, and you make me feel protected. You make me feel like we can do anything. Conquer anything. And when we were abducted… at that horrible cabin…”

  “Don’t think about that,” he urged quietly, hugging me to his chest. “It’s over. We’re safe.”

  “You almost died. I killed that man. My life changed. My priorities changed. Everything that I thought was important up until that moment didn’t mean a thing, not anymore. I sent Matthew away. I sat by your side while you were in that coma and held your hand, begging you to come back to us. And the day you did, and Charlie was born… my God, Keaton. I was so thankful.”

  I took a moment to compose myself, and his strong thumbs brushed at the tears on my cheeks.

  “You never gave up on me,” he whispered.

  “Never. And the whole time I was praying for you to come back to me while living with Luke, he was falling in love with me. But I didn’t know that. And when he told me, after… after the night of the party… I felt betrayed. Like all of the sweet memories of him supporting me while you were in that coma meant something completely different. He never crossed the line. He never even gave me an indication that he was falling for me. He kept on respecting you, even when the doctors said there’d be little chance that you were coming back to us.”