by Renee Dyer
Over and over, I listen to it as the tears fall down my face. I memorize the lyrics, letting the meaning of the words sink in. I did it. I pushed him away. It’s what was best for him. I know I needed to do this.
So why do I feel like I’m being crushed, like the world has caved in on me and I’ll never be able to be whole again?
The song continues to play. Continues to torment my tattered soul. “I’m sorry, Tucker,” I whisper to the empty air. The words to the song have sunk in and although I won’t respond to him, I need to say what I wish I could tell him if he were here. “If only you knew how much you got to me, Tucker. You got to every part of my heart, my mind, my soul. You touched every part of my body.” I stop talking, thinking of all the ways he touched me, feeling the blush creep up my neck and into my cheeks. I wish I could feel him touch me one more time, feel him between my legs. Oh God, Adri, you need to stop thinking this way before you make yourself crazy. I know I could feel him, touch him again. All it would take is one phone call, but I can’t do that. He’s finally letting me go. He’s breaking me completely and it’s what has to happen.
Hugging myself around my middle, I put the song on repeat and lay my head on the couch, staring aimlessly into the room. Like I’ve done since Alex left, I now picture Tucker before me. His blue eyes are staring at me, he’s smiling his full dimple smile, and he’s sexy as hell. My coping mechanism is carrying me through another bout of devastation.
“I know you would have followed me anywhere. You would have stood beside me through anything. In the short time you were in my life, you showed me the amazing man you are. I can’t tell you how thankful I am that I met you. I know you would have been my rock, the shoulder for me to cry on, and my beacon through all my storms. I wish you could see this about yourself.”
My tears are falling harder and my sobs break through the stillness of the house. I want to curl in on myself and cry until there is nothing left of me, but I need to get this out. It’s irrational. Somewhere in my tortured mind I know this, know that I’m talking to myself, but I still need to do this. Need to say it out loud. I need to say what I want to say to him, but can’t. If I said it to him, he may never leave my side and I would only bring him pain. That’s something I’m not willing to let happen.
“How do I explain to you that you had it all figured out. You had me figured out. You saw past the pain of me losing Alex and pushed me to live, asked me to be me again. You woke me up, showed me what life was when no one else could. That was part of the problem. You saw too much. I’m not sure why you think you knew nothing, but, Tucker, that’s not true.” Again, the words to the song haunt me. He couldn’t have picked a more meaningful song to say goodbye to me. Every line, every verse, cuts into my heart. I can’t help but feel like the group saw my and Tucker’s situation and wrote this song for us. I picture Tucker hearing this song and wonder if it breaks him the way it’s breaking me now. I hope not because I would never wish this pain on him. “I never saw you stumble. Never saw you falter, even in the face of betrayal and the mass of disappointments you’ve been handed your whole life. Most people would be bitter, crumble, and fall apart, kind of like I’ve done. They can’t move on and let people in. They can’t find happiness and love. Were you trying to tell me you love me? I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to ask that. This is supposed to be me telling you how I feel, but that one line of the song keeps ricocheting around my mind. Do you love me, Tucker?”
Silence greets me, engulfs me. Even my sobs subside—like they think he’ll barge through the door to profess his undying love for me—like he somehow heard me ask him if he loved me and he was magically transported to me through the airways. But, this is life, not some crazy sci-fi movie. Tucker isn’t coming to me. He won’t be telling me he loves me. I may be reading into that one line of the song too much and I’ll never know because this is his goodbye.
“Damn you, Tucker Stavros. Damn you for coming into my life. Damn you for making me want to live again. And, damn you for making me love you.” My shouts echo off the walls back at me. “Without you, life feels like it doesn’t work again. I don’t know what to do with that and I don’t know who to be angry with. But, I am angry. I’m so fucking angry, Tucker. I’m tired of hurting all the time. I’m tired of this pain and I’m tired of this guilt. I want it to stop. Please make it stop. I miss you.”
I whisper the last line, afraid of admitting it to myself. But, I can’t deny it anymore. I do miss him. I miss him every second of every day and it’s sucking the life out of me. I want to hop on the first flight to Vancouver, run into his arms, and beg him to never let go of me. I want to tell him that I am saying something, but I won’t do that. I can’t. And, it sucks. Protecting him from me sucks.
“I hope you find happiness, Tucker.” Using the words he wrote to me, I say in a voice fractured by tears, “I will remember you always.”
Chapter Three
Tucker
It’s been almost two weeks since I sent my goodbye to Adriana. I told myself not to have hope that she would respond, but deep down, I thought she would. I thought the song would get to her. It was my way of telling her I loved her. Telling her, I’d be there for her in any way if she wanted me to be. I thought I had found my way to get through to her. She was always telling me how music was pivotal in the books she read. I thought I was being slick. Apparently, I was wrong. Again.
Now, I’m waiting for Eddie to pick me up because he thinks a night out drinking and picking up chicks is what I need. It so isn’t, but he isn’t taking no for an answer.
What I need is my angel to come save me. I need her to save me from this hell she put me in. She has no idea what she did to me when she walked away and I have no idea how to get on with my life. I’ve never been messed up like this over a woman.
For the millionth time since sending her the message that ripped my heart out, I look at my cell, start pressing the numbers to call her, and stop. I can’t do this. She’s obviously done with me and I need to move on.
How do I get my heart to understand?
Fingers typing on their own, I watch the numbers flash across the screen. I place the phone to my ear and listen to it ring. Her voice brings peace to my entire body and a smile to my face.
“Hi, sweetie.”
“Hey, Grams.”
“What has you sounding so down, my boy?” That’s my Grams. Always cuts to the chase. My heart is pumping wildly knowing I’m going to tell her the truth.
“I had to let her go.” Saying those words feels like swallowing glass. I never should have had to say them, but Adriana left me no choice.
“Why?”
“What do you mean why, Grams? She still hasn’t responded to any of the ways I’ve tried contacting her. After a month, I had to stop pestering her. I was starting to feel like a stalker. It wasn’t right. It was time.”
Her huff through the line tells me she disagrees with me before she says anything. “Did she tell you that you were pestering her, huh? Or that she thinks you’re a stalker?”
I don’t let her continue. I snap. “She hasn’t said anything. Haven’t you been listening to me any of the times I’ve called you since I left her place? She hasn’t responded to me in any way. She doesn’t want me, Grams.” Saying that breaks my heart all over again. “Continuing to chase her makes me look pathetic.”
“Oh, poppycock. The girl is scared. You were the first person she let into her world since her husband died. You told me that, Tucker. You said her friends and family couldn’t even get close to her. Can you imagine the fear she must have been feeling and the guilt with what you were awakening in her? Sweetie, she just needs time. Listen to this old lady, she’s a good girl. Don’t throw her away.”
Eddie knocks and walks through the door, interrupting our conversation. I wish I had more time to talk to Grams about this. I want to ask her why she’s so adamant that Adriana needs time, but now isn’t the time to ask. Eddie is convinced Adriana is the downfall of my career an
d will not be happy if he knows I’m talking about her at all. He’s my best friend and he thinks she totally fucked me over.
“Eddie just got here, Grams. I’ll call you soon. Love you.”
“Love you too, sweetie. Please think about what I said. Especially if that friend of yours thinks taking you out to look for women is a good idea tonight.” She hangs up and I chuckle. How does she always know? The woman must be psychic.
I look at Eddie and instantly want to rip his fedora and shades off. He gave me a story a few years back that he always wears them to protect his parents because they don’t want to be in the limelight, but I know there’s more to it than that. He’s too anal about it. I’ve only seen him without his hats and shades a handful of times and it’s only at his or my house with all the blinds drawn so there’s no chance of the paparazzi sneaking pictures. He freaks if anyone attempts to remove them from him; acts like you’ve burned him. As close as we are, he’s never been able to tell me the full truth.
Maybe I’ll get him smashed tonight so he’ll finally tell me what the fuck his story really is.
Yeah right, he never allows himself to get drunk either. Eddie is hiding something. I wish that he could trust me enough to tell me what it is.
“You ready to get your drink on and maybe a lady or two?” he asks me with a shit eating grin on his face. He knows I don’t want to do this tonight and I definitely don’t want to pick up any women. There’s only one woman I want to sink into and he isn’t going to be able to get her to any of the bars we’ll be going to tonight. Making a sweeping motion with my hand, I tell him to lead the way.
I so don’t want to do this.
We go to Petey’s, our usual joint for dinner. Petey’s daughter, Grace, who took over when he passed away a few years back, seats us in the private section away from prying eyes. She’s awesome. She knows what I like to eat and drink, but still asks if I want to try anything different. I tell her the usual, like I always do—a Pepsi with a prime rib, medium-rare, garlic mashed potatoes, and mixed vegetables. I like a big meal and maybe the garlic will keep unwanted woman away from me.
Grace brings our drinks and some warm bread, offering a little small talk before walking off to her other customers. I like her because she never oversteps her bounds. She doesn’t act like a star-crazed ass-wipe like so many servers do. I try not to get aggravated, but seriously, be professional and do your job. Let me eat my meal.
My foul mood is getting worse the closer we get to dinner being complete. Eddie is trying his hardest to ignore it, but I’m sure my sulking is obvious to anyone with functioning eyes.
“Tuck, can you act like you’re having fun? My girly ego is fragile, you know?” I stare at my friend to see him pouting and I imagine that he’s batting his lashes at me behind his shades. Asshole. I can’t help it. I start laughing. I may not want to pick up chicks, but hanging with Eddie is good times.
“How about we go shoot pool or play darts, man? I’m really not up for women tonight.”
I watch Eddie go into contemplative mode. This is where he tries to decide what’s best for me. If he would listen for five seconds, I would tell him. “I told some of the crew we were going out so they are going to meet us. Sorry, man. I didn’t realize you were that set against going out.” I watch as guilt crosses his face and I feel bad. He’s just trying to make me feel better. I’ve been a fucking bear to deal with for weeks. Who am I to bitch that my friend wants to take me out?
“No sweat. We’ll meet up with everyone.” Although I don’t feel any enthusiasm over that, I play it off like I do. Play it off well enough that I see Eddie’s expression shift from guilt to happiness. Mission completed.
Dinner completed, we get in his car to head out. I don’t bother asking where we’re going. My mind travels three thousand miles away to a strawberry blonde beauty who has stolen my heart. I wonder what she’s doing right now, how her day was, if she’s thinking of me at all. These thoughts always bring a stabbing pain to my gut. I worry that the pain will never go away. I worry that I’ll never be able to find someone who fits me the way she did. She was my perfect.
Eddie tapping me on my shoulder brings me out of my wandering thoughts. “We’re here, man.” I nod and unfold myself from his car. I don’t bother looking at where we are. It doesn’t matter. I have no plans of going home with anyone or asking anyone to come home with me. A drink or two with Eddie and some people from work and then this miserable night can be over.
Walking in, the music slams into me, bass pumping through my head. I’m so not in the mood for this. I used to be a fun guy, but all I want now is to go home and stare at the pictures of Adriana and me all night. I know it’s self-inflicted torture, but I’ll gladly take that over being out in public waiting for the vultures to start circling. It’s inevitable. I always get recognized and if they don’t ask for my signature, they try to get me to fuck them. I don’t even try to say it politely. That’s what they want. A night with a movie star to brag about. So not in the mood for this shit.
I head straight for the bar and grab a beer. A few ladies openly gawk. A couple others giggle. Yeah, I love when grown women turn into thirteen year olds in my presence. And, a few bold ones fluff themselves up like peacocks on display. Yep, the vultures are starting to circle. I make my run for Eddie and our co-workers who are starting to arrive.
About an hour in, after several failed attempts by woman to gain my attention, my eyes lock on the back of a woman at the other end of the room. My heart rate picks up and it takes everything in me to not drop my beer. Holy shit. Eddie must have done this. Long, waist-length, strawberry blonde hair on a tiny frame is calling to me. I can’t believe she’s here. Six weeks of no contact, of not hearing her voice, and… she’s here. My feet move on their own accord. I can feel the urgency in my step to get to her; to pull her into my arms and ask her what the hell took her so long. Nowhere in my mind am I thinking, “Why didn’t she come to me?”
I stop just behind her. With a steadying breath, I reach out to tap her shoulder. The moment she starts to turn and I see her profile, it’s all wrong. This isn’t my Adriana. It’s not her. I’ve made a grave mistake and now I have this woman I don’t want to talk to beaming at me.
“Oh my God. You’re Tucker Stavros. I’ve watched all your movies and I love your show.” Her voice is high pitched and nasally and it’s drilling through my head. “You are the sexiest vampire on TV. I can’t believe you came over here to talk to me. I’m your biggest fan. I just love you. I can’t wait for the new season to start. Oh my God, I’m talking to Tucker Stavros. You’re so hot.” How do I get her to shut the fuck up? I want to rip my own ears off and put them on her head so she can hear how fucking annoying she sounds.
Normally, I’m patient and nice to my fans, but this one is a stage five clinger and there’s no way I’m getting stuck with her all night. “So nice to meet you.” I don’t give her a chance to tell me her name. I keep looking around like I’m searching for someone. “Sorry to bother you, but from behind you look just like my friend who is meeting us here. I hope you and your friends have a great night.” Quickly turning, I make a beeline back to Eddie before she can say anything else in that annoying ass voice of hers. She is definitely not my Adriana.
I spend the next couple of hours trying to enjoy the company around me. Eddie is his normal cynical, sarcastic self, who normally humors the hell out of me, but the women I have to keep pushing off me are getting on my last nerve. I mean, seriously, can’t a guy enjoy a night out with his friends without being preyed upon by the masses of socially obsessed assholes looking to make a name for themselves? There are the sly ones who slink over and try to join in on our conversations thinking we won’t notice—yeah, they really do that—the shy ones who watch from across the room and finally work up the nerve to approach me, making me feel bad when I turn them down. Then, there are the blatant ones who come right out and ask me if I want to fuck them in the bathroom, their cars, or maybe go back t
o their places. It is unbelievable that these women have so little respect for themselves or me. I don’t mind the ones who just want an autograph, but treat me like a walking fuck stick and you may be facing the temper I’ve been struggling to keep under wraps since Adriana walked out of my life. The temper I’ve so carefully kept hidden from the public eye all these years.
Finishing my beer, I’m ready to tell Eddie it’s time to bounce when a sultry voice sounds off behind me. “Hey, Hot Stuff.” My spine goes stiff and I rail around, the name slicing though my already wounded heart. I know it won’t be Mickayla, but I have to see anyways. The brunette before me is trying to give me her best sexy smirk with her tits jammed out in front of her, her top pulled down far too low, revealing far too much.
Tick, tick… BOOM!
“Do I look like I fucking want to be approached by yet another woman asking me to go fuck her somewhere that no respectable man would, simply because she wants to say she had a movie star between her legs?” I watch as the wind leaves her sails and the hurt enters her eyes. I should stop. Eddie is grabbing for me, but he’s too late. My broken state won’t let me stop. “Have you not seen me turn away all the others who have come over here? What made you think you were going to be the special one? Because you threw your tits at me? Plenty before you tried that and failed. I’m sick of you women thinking because I’m on TV that I’m a personal fuck toy for all of you. I’m not, so go the fuck away.”
“I-I was just going to ask you for an autograph,” she whispers, but the blush in her cheeks tells me how embarrassed she was because everything I said was true. She was totally going to offer herself up to me in a tits out, probably bathroom stall package. She’s breathing heavy and I think she may even be slightly aroused by how I spoke to her. You have got to be kidding me. Disgust fills me.
“Keep telling yourself that. Too bad the blush on your cheeks tells the truth. All women have a tell and that was yours. Go away,” I say, turning my back to her. I know I’m being an asshole, but I can’t seem to care. Eddie and the other cast members are gawking at me, mouths hanging open. Well shit, guess I could’ve handled that better. I would have liked to see some sympathy from them, but all I see is shock and maybe some disgust of their own.
