When Fates Collide

by Isabelle Richards

  Gavin gently lunges to the side, helping me avoid a massive puddle.

  “Brooke’s PR company wants me to hold a big flashy memorial, which is exactly what Brooke would have wanted. The thought of it disgusts me. Everyone will pretend that she was the innocent victim of some random car accident. One more giant lie that I’ll have to sit through with a stiff upper lip.”

  He lets out a deep sigh and runs his fingers through his hair. “Plus, I need to get back to work. I’ve been here for weeks, and my company has been on autopilot. My staff has been picking up the slack for too long now.”

  “I bet they’ve missed you,” is the best I can come up with to say. I really don’t give a shit about his staff or if his business is suffering. I don’t want him to go.

  “What about you? What are you going to do?” Gavin asks in a tone that sounds as though he’s afraid of the answer. Maybe he senses that I’m not really ready to think about it.

  “I need to call Ashton’s mom and tell her what’s happened. I’m sure together we’ll figure out what to do. When Franklin died, there was a big service, but Ashton’s made a lot of enemies. A big thing may not be necessary. Personally, I’d rather just ignore the whole thing, but I’ll do whatever Darlene wants. I need to find a place to live, and fast. The FBI is only paying for the room for a few more days. And then I have to figure out what to do with my life.”

  “You have a lot on your plate and not a bean to support yourself. Let me help you,” he pleads.

  I thread my arm through his elbow. “That’s sweet. But, I need to do this on my own.”

  “Don’t be stubborn. You don’t have to do it all on your own,” he insists.

  “I got myself into this mess, and I’ll get myself out.” Between my tone and body language, I hope I’m making it clear this isn’t an issue I’ll be pushed on. Thankfully, he backs off.

  We walk another block before he pulls me close to him. He kisses the top of my head and says, “I respect that you want to do this on your own. It’s commendable. Just know I’m here if you need me.”

  It’s quite a statement and a lovely sentiment, but I don’t really believe him. He lives four thousand miles and a very large ocean away. I’m so grateful we’ve had each other through this. I’m not sure I’d still be vertical if he weren’t here. But once he leaves, I’m sure that will be it. A phone call here and there, some texting, an occasional email.

  As we enter the hotel, Gavin’s phone rings. “It’s my office.”

  I look at my watch. “It’s almost midnight.”

  He smirks. “Not in London. I’d better take this,” he says. “Why don’t you head up to your room? I’ll come up and see you after I finish.”

  I nod and start to walk away. I’ve made it about halfway to the elevator when he suddenly grabs me and spins me around before planting a deep kiss on me. As we break apart, he winks and walks away, picking back up on his call without missing a beat. That man sure knows how to make a girl feel special

  .

  Ten

  “I’ll come up and see you when I finish.” It seems like such a simple statement, but it could mean anything. A friendly handshake goodnight. Or watching a movie. Playing cards? Or wild, crazy sex. The possibilities are endless.

  While I try to decipher his complex code of guy speak, I hop in the shower to make sure I’m ‘sexy ready’—just in case. I shower for so long I nearly turn into a prune, so I finally get out and dry off. Still no word from Gavin.

  By two, I’m too revved up too sleep because I’m trapped in an internal debate about what to do. Do I wait up all night for him to come by? Call? Say ‘Fuck ‘im!’ and just go to bed? What’s the protocol here? It’s been so long since I’ve had to deal with the games played between men and women that I’m completely at a loss. Disgusted by my indecision, I get dressed and head to his room.

  He opens the door to his room looking haggard. Quite the turnaround from when I saw him a few hours ago. His room looks as though a bomb has gone off inside. Suitcases and clothes everywhere. “Lily dear, I’m so glad you’re here. I was just going to ring you. I have to leave in just a few hours. I wasn’t intending for it to happen this fast, but chaos has erupted at home. Since word got out about Brooke, it’s been pandemonium. My offices were essentially attacked by the press. No one can get anything done. Someone released Brooke’s address, and there are people camped out there. Someone broke in and tried to steal her clothes to sell on eBay!”

  I sit down on the edge of his bed. “That’s disturbing. Who would do that?” A stupid question, I know. The world is full of morons that would pull those sorts of stunts, and even bigger morons that would spend a small fortune on the pillaged souvenirs.

  “I’m just gobsmacked,” he continues. “Where were all these adoring fans when she was trying to make a go of it after Covent Gardens? Certainly not buying tickets to her films or going to her plays. The PR person says that this is what happens when someone was in a cult classic like that. Even if she wasn’t making movies anymore, she was still in the public eye. I’m still trying to wrap my head around it, but I don’t have time to stop and think. I have to pack and go. My flight leaves at six. The car will be here in an hour and a half.”

  I’m just as gobsmacked as he is. I’m not ready for him to go. I know he has to, and I completely understand why, but I don’t want him to. I don’t want to spend my last bit of time with him pouting, so I say, “How can I help?”

  He kisses my cheek. “Aren’t you wonderful. Would you mind helping me pack? When I came, I only brought an overnight bag, never expecting to be here this long. As my trip extended, I just shopped online for whatever I needed.” He looks around the room. “As you can see, it got a little out of hand.”

  This makes me laugh. “Gavin, you are such a clothes whore!” A well-dressed one at that. He always looks as though he’s just walked out of a Ralph Lauren ad, and now I understand why. The man has exceptional taste and an unhealthy shopping habit to match.

  “Fourteen pairs of shoes? Really?” I laugh, but deep down, I’m jealous. The only shoes to my name are the flip flops on my feet.

  “I was a model, remember? I was spoilt by all the best clothes, and I became accustomed to it. I’ll admit I have a bit of a shopping problem. I hate to go to the shops. But get me on a website, and I point and click my way into trouble.”

  “I can see that.” I shake my head. “I can’t relate. I despise shopping.”

  I sort through the mountain of clothes and come across the shirt he was wearing when we first met. It’s the same blue as his eyes, is so soft, and smells just like him. I hide it in a corner, hoping to snag it for myself. A little something to remember him by.

  We tell stories and laugh as we pack and get him organized. Before we know it, it’s three fifteen, and his car is meant to arrive at any moment. Both our faces fall when we catch sight of the clock. I look at him, trying to find the words. There’s so much to say, so much we haven’t talked about.

  He takes me in his arms and kisses me as though it’s for the last time. I’m absorbed into his embrace, and I melt into the kiss. When we break apart, I have tears streaming down my face.

  “Oh, no. I can’t stand to see you cry,” he says as he wipes the tears. “Run upstairs and get dressed. Ride with me to the airport. I know there’s so much left to say and talk about. We can’t leave like this. Please?”

  I couldn’t possibly say no. Especially when he gives me that look. Those baby blues could get me to do just about anything. I grab my memento as stealthily as possible and run upstairs to change. My choices are slim: an FBI tee and shorts or an FBI tee and sweats. I’ll fit right in with the tourists.

  I open my door to find him there. The car is waiting. We hold hands as we make our way down. I’m gripping his so hard I’m amazed I haven’t cut off his circulation. He practically has to drag me along as I walk as slow as molasses to the back door.

  Before we get in the car, he captures my face in his hand
s and tilts it to look at me with those amazing eyes. “This isn’t goodbye, Lily. I promise. I don’t want to leave you, especially like this, but if I don’t, my life is positively snookered. And—”

  “Gavin,” I stop him. “I understand. You have to go. Please don’t feel bad.” I move to get in the car, knowing that if I don’t do it now, I’ll lose my nerve. “Plus,” I say after we settle into the seats. “They have these things called telephones and computers. I don’t personally have one right now, something I must resolve soon.”

  “Oh, Lil, I totally forgot. How can I leave you here without anything? What will you do? How will I get in touch with you? You don’t even have my bloody mobile number! Bollocks!”

  “You’re so cute when you speak British!” I lean over and give him a sweet kiss. “I think you could read me the phone book and it would get me hot and bothered.”

  He pats my knee. “While I love the distraction, this is a real problem. How will I talk to you? Seriously, Lil. I can’t not talk to you.”

  He looks genuinely bent out of shape about this, which touches my heart. “Gavin, I’ll get a phone. Once the insurance thing is all worked out, I’ll get a new laptop. I promise I’ll be reachable.” I pause for a moment, giving him a half-hearted grin. “Plus, you’re going to be so busy, you probably won’t even have time to talk.”

  He looks at me like I’ve just backed over his dog with my car. A cross between heartbroken and angry. “That’s bullshit, Lily. I—” He stops himself. He looks furious. His face is flushed, and he’s biting his lip so hard I’m afraid it’s going to bleed.

  I reach over to try to connect with him, but his muscles tense at my touch. His eyes that usually look like a warm ocean are now cold as ice.

  This mood shift shocks me. I’m not even sure what I’ve done. “I didn’t mean to upset you. Please talk to me. We only have a few more minutes before we get to Dulles. I don’t want it to end like this.”

  “That’s just the thing, Lily. In my mind, this isn’t the end. You speak about me leaving with a casual disdain that guts me. As though the moment I get on the plane, this,” he points back and forth between us, “disappears. I’m not ready to abandon the bond we’ve created just because I’m leaving for now.”

  He runs his fingers through his hair. “I’ve never felt this way about anyone. Ever. Those five days in that apartment with you were like a slice of heaven after almost two years of hell. Leaving you now, it feels like I’m walking away from the promise of something amazing, and I hate it. But it must be done.”

  I sigh. “The idea of the debacle I called a marriage opening the door to a happily-ever-after is charming and enticing. But that’s not how things work out for me. I don’t ride off into the sunset and live the fairy tale. You’re going to go home, mourn, and move on with your life. You’re going to realize that this connection we have was just a bi-product of our shared experience, and our friendship will get tucked away in the back of your mind, lumped in with all the other memories regarding Brooke’s death. I don’t want it to be that way, but we have to be realistic here. Things like this?” I point back and forth between us. “They don’t work once you go back to the real world.”

  I’m pushing him away. I know I am. As much as he wants to believe there’s hope for us, I know that there isn’t. I don’t have room in my life for any more disappointment or things I can’t count on. The last thing I want to do is hurt him, but I can’t delude myself either.

  “You’re wrong,” he says quietly. “I don’t know how to convince you of that, but you’re wrong.”

  Not wanting to look at him, I watch the landscape of the Dulles Toll Road pass by. The atmosphere in the car turns tense. Every pebble we drive over feels like hitting a speed bump at seventy-five miles per hour. I feel myself shrinking into the corner of the car, wishing I hadn’t run my mouth. Why couldn’t I have just played along until he left and then been grateful when those few-and-far-between emails showed up in my inbox?

  The airport comes into sight, and I brainstorm how I’m going to try to end this amicably.

  “Come with me,” he says breaking the quiet.

  “What?”

  “Come with me, Lily. To London. You have nothing tying you here. Just get on the plane with me, and we will figure it out.”

  I’m taken aback. Nothing like a grand gesture to stop your heart. Part of me wants to go with it, to be swept up into the romance. But I can’t. My life is a mess and I need to get my head on straight. Riding off into the sunset would just be avoiding the problem. I need to fix me first. I will not jump into another relationship simply because it promises to be a quick, easy escape from my past.

  I reach across the car to hold his hand. “You have to go home and get your life together, and I have to do the same. It would be amazing to just run away with you. But everything would catch up to us.”

  He sighs deeply. “I know you’re right.” He pauses, a pouty look spreading across his face and making him look like a spoiled toddler. “I just don’t like it!”

  We arrive at the airport and I’m dreading saying goodbye. I lean into him to pull him into an embrace, but he pushes me away. “No. I’m not doing it this way. I have a few more minutes, and you’re coming in with me!” He tells the driver to circle for thirty minutes and then return for me.

  I follow him into the airport, even though I know I’m just prolonging the pain of the farewell.

  Gavin checks in, ignoring the ticket agent’s snickering at his ridiculous amount of luggage. The airport is practically empty, which gives it an air of privacy as we stroll the concourse trying to enjoy our last few moments together. We talk about nothing at all of consequence, just random stories that make us both laugh. He has a laugh that can brighten any room, and it’s infectious.

  I look at the clock on the wall. “You need to get going or you won’t make it through customs. You remember how much you’re bringing home, right?”

  He perks up, as if he’s seen something out of the corner of his eye. He kisses me and says, “Stay here!” Then he runs over to the security checkpoint and quickly disappears from view.

  I stand there, feeling like an idiot, for close to fifteen minutes. There’s still no sign of him, and I have no idea what he’s doing. Is he skipping out on saying goodbye? I wouldn’t have expected something so cowardly from him, and I’m not the one who just insisted that “this”—whatever “this” is—is more than just a case of two people bonding through tragedy. And yet, I’m the one standing here by myself.

  After nearly twenty minutes, I decide he must be gone. There’s no way he can come back and still make his flight. It’s not like he has to worry about his carry-on luggage. He can just point and click his way to another new wardrobe. I turn to walk away when I’m plagued by an image of a TSA agent tackling me for leaving a suitcase here. That’s how my luck would go. I meet Prince Charming, who bails on me at the airport, and I get arrested for abandoning “suspicious baggage” in the concourse.

  “Lily! Don’t Go!”

  Turning back around, I see Gavin running the length of the concourse on the other side of security, loaded down with shopping bags. He heads for the door that leads back to this side of the lobby, panting heavily.

  What the hell? He left me to go get airport souvenirs? I put my hands on my hips and stare at him as he comes to a halt in front of me. “I live here, I don’t need Washington DC tchotchkes.”

  “Don’t be cheeky,” he says, out of breath. “When I flew in, I needed a new cord for my iPad, so I stopped in this shop I saw when I landed. It sells computers and mobiles, and I thought, ‘Who the hell is daft enough to buy a computer or mobile at an airport?’” He points his thumbs at his chest. “Well, this bloke is bloody daft enough! I gave up my last few moments with you to know that I would be able to talk to you when I land. It was well worth it!” He hands me the bags that hold a brand new iPhone and Macbook.

  “This must have cost a fortune! At an airport no less! I ca
n only imagine the markup.” I try to hand the bag back to him. “It’s too much. I can’t accept this.”

  “Luv, I just sprinted through a very large airport, in loafers by the way, so that I could have the peace of mind of knowing I would get to say goodnight to you tonight. Bloody hell, woman! Don’t ruin my moment with your rubbish. Take the damn gift and kiss me!”

  I relent and kiss him with such fervor that it borders on inappropriate.

  “Now that was a sendoff,” he says with a smile. “I have to go now. They wrote your new mobile number on the paperwork. I’ve already programed all of my info into the phone. As soon as you get it up and running, email me with all of yours, please. I’ll be devastated if I land in London and there isn’t a message from you.” He picks me up and kisses me again. “I’ll see you before you know it.” Then he walks away. I watch him go back through security. My heart hurts a little, wanting nothing more than to believe him that this isn’t goodbye.

  After the car picks me up, we get stuck in traffic. I wish I had spent more time looking at Gavin on the drive over rather than looking at the roadside, because I’ve got nothing to do but look at it now. It gives me time to take in the last eight days. The drama and excitement is over, and now it’s time to focus on the mundane and the boring. How to put food on the table. Getting a table to put food on. Procuring more than three pairs of underwear. The basics.

  Before I can start the next chapter in my life, I have to conclude the previous one. While I’m sure it would be easier to just keep moving and try to forget, I have people other than myself to think about. Ashton’s mother deserves more than that. Darlene is a good woman that, sadly, has not been a big part of our lives. She met Frankie when they were fourteen. They married right out of high school and, from what it sounded like, they were happy in the early years.