New York, USA
A trail of goose bumps traveled across her bare stomach as the night air from the open window floated into the bathroom that was slowly filling with steam. Dipping her hand under the surface of the bubble-topped water, she checked the temperature, then stepped back to let the button up linen shirt slide off her shoulders, catching it briefly in her fingers before letting it fall in a silent heap on the tiled floor. Slipping her fingers underneath the waistband of the drawstring pants that clothed her bottom half, she slid them down, catching sight of herself out of the corner of her eye in the mirror behind the sink.
Her back straightened as she took in the reflection of her body in the slowly fogging glass clad just in her undergarments, taking notice of the slight bulge that now protruded from her lower stomach, the only evidence of her five and a half month pregnancy. That was one of the few questions she’d had answered with the visit she’d made to the doctor before leaving home; the conception of their child had happened on that night back in November after the video shoot. Slowly, almost with hesitation, her hands found their way to her midsection, her chilled fingers sliding over the growing mound. She’d been able to keep herself busy enough in the last month and a half that she didn’t leave much time to think about her pregnancy, but now that she was alone for the first time since she’d left him, the thought hit her harder than a ton of bricks.
She let her eyes linger for a second more on her image in the mirror before her eyelids fell closed and she turned her head away. Stripping off her underwear, she tossed them into the corner of the bathroom and stepped into the bathtub, letting the warm water engulf her tired and aching body as her eyes closed again.
Thankfully, the nausea had subsided a bit, so she was only getting sick once a day instead of twice, but the fact that she was throwing up less did nothing for her lower back, which seemed to take over where the vomiting left off. The only good side about it was that she didn’t have to go through it completely alone.
By utter coincidence, she’d run into Rupert, and they’d formed a friendship that was comfortable to Keira, something she’d been missing in her life since she’d left Orlando. Despite the rumors that littered the tabloids for weeks, and still popped up occasionally, it went no further than that, and his friendship was something she’d come to lean on lately. Because he wasn’t directly involved in the mess she put herself in, he was able to listen objectively, something that Ashlee, and her mother, and Caleb couldn’t do. His advice and impartial ear were exactly what she needed, and she couldn’t have been more grateful for him if she tried.
But thoughts of Orlando often found their way into her head, no matter how hard she tried to keep them at bay. Out of nowhere sometimes she’d hear her name in his whisper, even if she was alone. Or a man would walk by and the scent of Orlando’s cologne would trail behind.
He’d invade her dreams and they would feel so real she’d wake up with the warmth of his touch still lingering on her cheek. And it was in those moments she would almost reach the proverbial breaking point. Most of the time, those thoughts would be followed by a ponderance of where he was, who he was with, what he was thinking… if he thought of her. And then she would feel guilty knowing that the whole situation was her own fault.
She opened her eyes and let her gaze shift to the window, seeing the bright light of the full moon shining down. More than anything else she missed him and how she felt when she was with him. And once again thoughts of where he was at that exact moment entered her exhausted mind.
~*~
On the carpeted floor a rectangle of light, cut only by the shape of his shadow, swept across the room. From where he stood by the window he had a view of the entire street, but his eyes weren’t on the neighborhood he grew up in. Instead they were focused on the bluish glow that shone down from the sky… and his mind was on her.
It had been two months since he’d spoken to her, and a little less than that since he’d heard her voice over the phone the first night he’d called Ashlee. She’d already left for New York by the time he’d spoken to Orlando again, and as painful as it had been to hear her that night, he couldn’t help but wish to hear it again, even if it did tear his heart out.
If he closed his eyes and thought about it real hard, he could almost feel her there with him and see her in his mind. How soft her skin would feel against his, the way her eyes would darken right before his lips met hers, the sound of his name on her whispered sigh. These fantasies, and his memories, were all he had left, and were all he would ever have again… because she’d found someone new.
Despite what Ashlee said the to the contrary, he could tell even from the pictures that there was something between Keira and Rupert just by looking at her. The newest set, taken only a week ago, was of them in a park. She was laying on her back, her knees drawn up, laughing at whatever he was saying, and he was holding a lock of her dark hair above her head. The smile on her lips caused a sharp pain to pierce his heart, simply because he wasn’t the one to put it there. And while he was happy that she was happy, the knowledge that he wasn’t the one she was happy with killed him.
He opened his eyes again, aiming one last look at the glowing moon before he turned away, wondering if maybe, just maybe, she saw the same thing he did when she looked out the window, and the thought that they were under the same sky made his ache a little less.
~*~
The water had long since cooled off, but she hardly noticed as her gaze was still locked on the moon. What had started out as something so beautiful, something so good, turned out to be a mistake. She shouldn’t have agreed to spend those six months with him, shouldn’t have let herself get so close, shouldn’t have let her guard down.
But even as she scolded herself, she knew it would have happened anyway. The connection between them was almost magnetic; if it hadn’t happened then, it would have happened eventually anyway. She knew that the first day they’d locked eyes on each other in the rehearsal hall during auditions. But back then things had been so simple, so easy, so dangerously close to perfect.
They could blame it on being too young, on being too naive, but what it came down to was that there was no fear of being apart because they were together every minute of every day. How were they to know that things would change so much and become so difficult?
The chill that claimed her body snapped her out of her daydreams, and a glance at the clock on the wall told her she’d been in the bathtub for over an hour. She yanked the plug from the drain, bracing her weight on the sides of the tub to lift her body out. She wrapped her chilled frame in a big fluffy towel, clutching it tightly around her as she began to shiver.
Had she been wrong to leave? Would talking things out with Orlando have made her feel any different? Or would the cost end up being greater than the means.
Cost… young…. change…
An inspiration she hadn’t felt in months railroaded her, and she flew into the hotel room to dig out her well-worn jounral. Yanking the pen from the spiral binding, she sat next to the bed, and once the pen hit the surface of the paper, her thoughts flowed from the tip.
~*~
Two months later
Orlando opened the door of the bathroom, exiting the steam-filled space with a towel wrapped around his damp hips, another wrapped around his neck. Drops of moisture fell from his water-logged curls as he shook his head, flinging moisture around the room. After pulling on a pair of nylon track pants he sat on the edge of the bed and picked up the remote, aiming it at the television. He removed the spare towel from his neck and placed it over his head, rubbing it vigorously as he half listened to the end of the local news broadcast and then switched it over to an American channel, and the beginning of the Tonight Show.
“Tonight, Jay welcomes, Comedian Dane Cook, as well as award-winning actress Keira Knightley…”
Orlando stopped the movement of the towel and looked up in time to see her name flash across the screen briefly before disappearing. He held his breath for a moment before letting it out, his eyes focused on the screen in front of him. She was going to be on TV…
He waited not-so-patiently for the first interview to be complete, the commercial break in between just about killing him, and he found himself leaning forward, holding his breath again, when the program came back on.
“My next guest has starred in many feature films, won numerous awards, and still managed to remain one of the nicest people i have ever met. Her newest film is coming out this summer, Ladies and Gentleman give it up for Miss Keira Knightley.”
Orlando slid off the bed, his eyes still on the television screen as a Keira came walking out onto the stage. The time since she left hadn’t changed her much; her straight, darker brown hair fell past her shoulders only slightly, without the benefit of extensions. Different shades of brown powder highlighted her bright eyes, lined lightly in black eyeliner. The only thing that struck him as odd was her choice of clothing.
The low riding jeans were vintage Keira, but her shirt, which had a high waistline that flared out just underneath her breasts, her noticeably larger breasts, wasn’t typical Keira at all. Normally it wouldn’t raise any red flags, but even Keira, in all her sweat suit loving glory would wear something a little more tapered around her waist.
His eyes traveled back to her face, transfixed, as she stared straight into the camera and blew a kiss.
Keira’s eyes shined as she chatted with Jay and Orlando found himself inching closer to the television. The words she was saying were lost on Orlando's ears as he starred at the screen willing to never let his eyes close.
Her eyes stared once more directly into the camera lens, and for the briefest, fleeting moment, he swore she was staring straight at him. He heard his name briefly work it's way into the conversation, but he ignored it, refusing to let their conversation reach his ears. There was a brightness shining in those beautiful pools of brown and it was caused by only one thing, a sight he knew all too well- unshed tears.
By now he was on his knees in front of the television, his fingers tracing every curve of her face the close-up shot displayed. Keira closed her eyes again and a renegade tear broke free from the confines of her lids, pushing past her dark lashes and zigzagging it’s way down her cheek. She opened her eyes once again, piercing his heart with the painful look she sent and he felt his own eyes spill over while he tried so desperately to brush away her tear through the barrier of glass and distance while her interview came to a end.
She turned her head away from the camera and the shot pulled back, but not before he saw in her eyes the struggle to keep her emotions in check. Hands flat against the screen he whispered her name on a soft sob as the picture faded to black and was replaced with a commercial. Orlando bowed his head, sobs taking over his entire body. Not once in the time since she’d left had he broken down… until now.
With a burst of adrenaline he sprung to his feet and heaved the remote against the wall, watching as it shattered into countless pieces of black plastic and wire and rained down onto the carpet. Grasping hold of the end of the comforter, he ripped it off the bed violently, tossing it away behind him. Next went the pillows, then the book on the nightstand, his watch, his left shoe… and when there was nothing left to throw he fell to his knees, weeping harder than he ever had before. Everything about this situation was wrong. He knew she’d been upset about something in the time before she’d left. He’d thought leaving her alone, not putting pressure on her to let him in, would be the best thing to do, but he’d never been more wrong about anything in his life. What if he’d made her talk? What if he’d pushed a little harder? What if he’d woken up sooner?
What if…?
What if…
It was too late for what if’s now. She was gone… and playing that game wouldn’t bring her back. He composed himself enough to stand up and turn off the TV, wiping his eyes with the back of his hand as he made his way back to the torn-apart bed.
Dropping down on the mattress, his wrist connected with something small and hard, and he raised his head to see what it was, catching the silver glint of his cell phone. Before he could think about what he was doing, his fingers were dialing her number… and the phone began to ring.
And after months of trying, months of nothing… she answered, his heart leaping at the sound of her soft
“hello” echoing into his ear.
“Keira…”
~*~
The drive to the airport was long and the open windows did little to refresh her in the humid, heavy June air that circulated through the air condition-less SUV. Shifting uncomfortably in the seat, the backs of her legs sticking to the leather, she reached to turn the volume up on the radio. Beads of sweat rolled down the back of her neck and saturated the escaped locks of hair that had slipped from the hasty ponytail she’d pulled back, and the seatbelt chafed her almost bare shoulder but she didn’t complain, because she was on her way home.
She wasn’t supposed to fly since she’d just entered her third trimester, but she’d be damned if she’d have her baby in an NY hospital if she could help it. In less than eight hours, she’d be with her Momma, sleeping in her own bed, far away from the bright lights of New York and the morbid curiosity of the paparazzi. How she’d managed to keep them in the dark about the baby as long as she had boggled her mind, but she wasn’t about to look a gift horse in the mouth. The less they knew, the less they reported… and the less chance it had of getting back to Orlando.
At the thought of him, Keira felt a pang of sadness deep in her heart. She’d been thinking about him a lot and three times she’d picked up the phone to call him, once even dialing up to the last number before she hung up. She wanted him to be apart of their child’s life, wanted him to be a part of her life, but the fact of the matter was it was probably too late. By now he’d probably moved on, or at the very least gotten over her. And what excuse could she give that would justify lying to him for the last four months about the fact that she was carrying his child?
But oh, did she miss him. No one knew her like Orlando did, both spiritually and physically, and no one ever would. The saddest part about it was that she’d always known, she’d just let her fears dictate her actions.
Her thoughts were interrupted by the voice of the radio station’s deejay, and the mention of a song title made the droplet of sweat sliding down the back of her neck feel cold as ice.
Her hands gripped the steering wheel, her knuckles turning white from the pressure, as the beginnings of the song, their song, filled the space around her. She should turn it off, or at the very least change the channel, but it was like slowing down to gawk at an accident on the freeway; you just couldn’t turn away. So the song played on.
And her cell phone rang.
She knew it was him. Call it intuition, call it a sixth sense, either way as she reached for the mechanism that vibrated as it simultaneously rang, she had no doubt that when she answered it, his voice would be the one that greeted her.
“Hello,” came her soft reply and from the other end of the line she heard her name whispered in that voice she knew so well, and she replied with his name on the same whisper.
“Don’t hang up. Please,” he begged, his tone odd.
“I…okay,” she said.
He wasn’t prepared for her to agree so easily, and the fact that she had threw him off for a second. Neither of them spoke and in the painful silence, he couldn’t help be realize how true the words she’d sung were. “How did we get here, Keir? How did our relationship get so messed up?”
She sucked in a breath at his choice of words. And in a tone filled with forced bravado she hoped hid her real feelings, she asked, “What do you mean, messed up?”
“I think you know what I mean, Keira,” he answered.
“You saw it didn’t you.”
“Those words. Were they real?”
With one lonesome tear rolling down her cheek, she answered, “Every last one.”
Hearing the emotion in her voice, a tightness formed in his throat as he choked out the words he’d been waiting to tell her for the last four months. “Keira, I lo-“
But his words were cut off with a hissed swear from Keira and the squeal of locking brakes causing tires to skid across the pavement. He heard the cell phone ricochet off something in the car, then settle next to a speaker, where over the resonance of breaking glass and crunching metal, the echo of wordsfrom a song from happier times drifted to his ear.
And then the line went dead.
**i had a bit of trouble writing this chapter- i hope it made sense.