by Reber, Tina
“It’s a simple question, Ryan. I don’t hold Pete’s hand or Gary’s hand – ever. I just want to know why you felt the need to tow her along through some Oscar after party.”
“She was drunk. I didn’t want her to make an ass out of herself while she was out in public,” Ryan defensively answered.
Flashbacks of me asking Thomas similar questions coated my thoughts. Thomas always had a valid excuse too:
“Her car broke down and I couldn’t just leave her stranded so I gave her a ride home and then we just got to talking...”
“She was a girl I knew from school. She is going through some rough times right now.”
“I had to do an estimate at someone’s house. So what that I’m a couple hours late. Do I have to check in with you every ten minutes?”
I sighed loudly. “I thought Lauren has a boyfriend? Why wasn’t he tending to her?” I asked.
“Because he’s on location in New Zealand, Taryn,” Ryan returned sharply. “Her boyfriend, Lucas Banks, is also filming.” His tone made me feel like an idiot, like I should’ve known that.
“I’m sorry,” I apologized instinctively. My old habits of being insecure kept resurfacing. Thomas always had a knack of turning each argument around, blaming my lack of trust and neurosis for being the cause of our fights.
“I just wanted to know what the circumstances were, that’s all,” I conceded.
“You have no reason to be suspicious, Honey. It’s just like the pictures of you holding onto Cory out on the icy sidewalk. I recall seeing your hand in his in those pictures. Just remember how quickly an innocent gesture gets taken out of context.”
“You’re right, but…” I whispered. “I just don’t want you to give Lauren the wrong impression either, Ryan.”
“Are you going to be like this forever, Tar? Accusing me whenever I touch another human being?” Ryan snarled.
“No. But I will be like this when you’re holding hands with someone you’ve already had sex with!”
I tried to maintain my temper, and although I was unsure if he had sex with Lauren or not when they supposedly dated, the fact that he didn’t try to deny it was confirmation enough.
“And I know you well enough to know that if you saw pictures of me holding hands with some ex-boyfriend that I…” I took a breath, pausing to check the direction of my accusations. “With someone you didn’t know or trust, smiling and canoodling around some over the top party with him, you’d flip out on me,” I groaned.
“Yeah, you’re right. I would,” Ryan willingly admitted.
“And why would you have that reaction, Ryan? Would it be because you don’t trust me or because you don’t want the entire world to have that impression of our relationship?”
“I trust you,” he whispered.
“It’s embarrassing and disheartening, seeing your boyfriend being affectionate with his ex-girlfriend off set,” I said softly. “When you’re filming, it’s another thing…”
“If you would have just come out to L.A. like I asked you to we wouldn’t be having this conversation. I was afraid of this… afraid of what the distance would truly do to us,” Ryan uttered into the phone.
“Ryan, it’s not the distance! I know you and Lauren hooked up last year and you dated her. She’s familiar territory. I’m like this because I’m in love with you and I don’t want to lose you to someone else.” The thought of him slipping out of my hands and into Lauren’s stabbed me in the heart.
“I figured you knew. No wonder…” he sighed. “I guess I messed up again. I should have told you.”
“Well, put it this way, you just confirmed what I thought I knew,” I whispered. “I wish you would’ve just been honest about what happened between you two. I’m just left here to speculate.”
“What do you want to know?” he scoffed. “I’m sorry. We should’ve talked about this, but I didn’t think it was a big deal, so either you trust me or you don’t.”
“Ryan, I trust you!” I said, hoping he’d believe me. “But how could you think it wasn’t a big deal for me when you know you’re working on a romantic movie with some actress you screwed before? You never even told me about her,” I reminded him.
He tried to interrupt but I spoke over him. I needed to get this all off my chest.
“You have to realize, all of these little, undisclosed secrets are what tears trust apart! Give me reasons to trust you, not reasons to distrust you, Ryan.”
“Taryn, I said I’m sorry. I should’ve been honest about it, but I was afraid you would be angry and I didn’t want to fight about it, so I didn’t say anything. Now I’ve just made it worse.”
I didn’t want to push the issue any further. I hoped he got my point about honesty.
“Do you love me?” I asked.
Ryan sighed. “With all my heart.”
“Then I trust you,” I vowed.
“Do you really?” he questioned harshly. “Then can you explain to me why Kyle is in Miami?”
I was momentarily stunned from hearing Kyle’s name come out of his mouth again.
“What do you mean Kyle is in Miami?” I retorted. “When did you see him?”
“He was on location with us this morning, Tar,” Ryan growled. “Why is he here?”
“I have no idea why he’s there,” I defended, trying to decipher Ryan’s line of questioning.
“You better not be lying to me, Taryn!” he stated forcefully.
“Ryan, I swear – I’m not lying! I have no idea why he’s there.”
“When was the last time you saw him?” he asked.
I thought about it for a moment. “When he came to give me that mace and stuff a week ago, and I told you about that. I’ve told you every time he’s ever come around here. I’m not the one keeping secrets.”
“Swear to me that you didn’t know about him coming down here,” Ryan breathed desperately.
“Ryan, I swear on my life that I have no idea why he is there.”
“He irks the shit out of me. I don’t know why he’s here, but I’m going to find out,” he said authoritatively.
There was a long pause until Ryan broke the silence.
“Taryn, I don’t want to fight with you. I am just frustrated about…” It was silent again and I didn’t know if I should say anything or let him talk.
A million thoughts rushed through my mind. He is frustrated with me and my insecurities. He is frustrated that I didn’t come to the Oscars. He is frustrated that I lost his unborn baby.
I mindlessly let the next thought slip out of my mouth to kill the silence.
“You’re frustrated with me,” I stated it, not questioned.
“I’m frustrated with everything, Taryn.”
One single tear dripped down my cheek.
Chapter 33 - Crushed
The next week seemed to move along quicker. I was starting to feel better physically and spending more time downstairs in the pub was better for me mentally. I didn’t realize just how much interacting with people was good for my spirit.
My regular customers were glad to see me again and although many were concerned, some couldn’t help but make a few jokes about the accident. I still wore my obnoxious blue cast as a constant reminder.
“Taryn! What are you doing?” Marie yelled at me.
“Just filling the coolers,” I muttered.
“You’re not supposed to be lifting and bending like that! Get away from there!” Marie tugged on my arm. “Go, sit. Take it easy. I don’t want you getting hurt before your trip.”
There was no arguing with Marie about the amount of physical labor that I tried to exert, but what she didn’t realize was how good it felt for me to move and stretch again.
“Is it okay if I tap a beer?” I kidded with her.
“Fine, but no lifting heavy beer cases.” She shook her finger at me.
I was feeling very apprehensive about my upcoming trip to Florida. Ryan was acting… weird, skittish. Since he was always working, our phone con
versations had to be coordinated, but lately Ryan was over-the-top with arranging times when it was safe to talk.
Safe… he uttered that word during one of our conversations. Why all of a sudden is he worried about being safe when he talks to me? Was it because Lauren was constantly around him, even when he had spare moments of downtime when he wasn’t filming?
Ryan informed me of Kyle’s annoying presence, almost accusing me of being responsible for Kyle being there on occasion. Kyle had managed to spend a few days making his presence known on some of the filming locations… that was until Ryan put an end to it.
Ryan told me that he spoke to the head of Kyle’s company directly and informed him that he wanted Kyle removed from the set immediately. Ryan wouldn’t tell me what happened, but something definitely went down between the two of them because Ryan was furious.
Kyle was to be informed immediately to refrain from contacting me or attempting to see me in any way, shape, or form… permanently. I was sure that Ryan used his “no bullshit” tone with Kyle’s boss.
I wished there was someone I could call to keep Lauren’s lips off of Ryan; someone to order her to stay away from him. I would have loved to use my authority to issue a “cease and desist” order on her.
I tried to constantly remind myself that Ryan was making a movie, that his kissing Lauren was no different from him kissing Suzanne. Sometimes I tried to swap out Lauren’s head with Suzanne’s just to keep my jealousy at bay, but since I had never met Lauren, it was difficult. I didn’t know her and therefore I didn’t trust her.
Ryan constantly assured me that he loved me, but I couldn’t help to think of my failed engagement and all the times Thomas “assured” me when he covered his infidelities. Some experiences were difficult to shake.
It didn’t help that Ryan’s demeanor towards me had been different these last few days. He was nervous and weirdly excited that I was coming to Miami. Flight times, arrival times, departure times, all carefully orchestrated.
My friends were behaving differently as well… smiling at me awkwardly all the time, like they knew something I didn’t. It sort of reminded me of the ambiguous looks they used to give me when they thought I was too stupid to realize Thomas was cheating on me.
The day finally arrived that I departed for Florida. This time I was going to make it there safely; Ryan was making sure of that. He hired a driver to get me to the airport and Jamaal, my new bodyguard – who was the size of an NFL linebacker - accompanied me the entire way. I felt better knowing that Ryan wanted me to arrive unscathed, especially since Angelica was still on the loose.
“I thought Florida is supposed to be sunny and warm?” I said to my driver, trying to break the silence. I glowered at the dismal gray skies that darkened the afternoon. The heavy rain was making trails down my window, obscuring my view of the landscape.
“It is, madam,” my driver stated with a thick Jamaican accent. “But not today!” He laughed.
“I feel like I should ask for a refund! All this false advertising!” I laughed at my own joke, sensing that he either didn’t hear me or he didn’t understand.
Downtown Miami was still teeming with life despite the dubious weather. I tried to pay attention to where we were driving while my fingers tapped along with the rhythmic sound of the windshield wipers.
I noticed the marquee on the Regency Hotel as we slowed. It was a relief to know that I finally made it and only a few more minutes separated me from being reunited with my love.
I couldn’t wait to wrap my arms around him and put an end to all my worries.
The steel garage door sealed tightly behind my car, shutting out the prying eyes and photographers that surrounded the hotel.
It was difficult not to feel like royalty when I had a hulking bodyguard holding out his hand for me to exit the limousine, my driver was handling my luggage, and hotel security was waiting for my arrival at the private entrance.
Butterflies coated my stomach while I slid the keycard into the lock of Ryan’s private suite.
“You can just leave my bags here,” I pointed to the floor in the entryway.
“That’s okay ma’am, I’ll take them to the bedroom for you,” the bellboy nervously insisted.
“I can get them,” I said. I wanted the bellboy out as soon as possible so that the second I saw Ryan it would be a private, intimate moment. I had been thinking about this reunion for days. I even strategically picked out my outfit – a simple cotton top and his favorite jeans. I was not about to waste a second of our time messing with layers of clothes as we got re-acclimated. Besides, I didn’t know if Ryan was lying and waiting naked in the bedroom. At least I hoped he was.
“No! Um, I have to take them!” The young man was adamant, almost shouting out at me. Before I had a chance to say no again, he quickly carried my bags off to the bedroom.
“Here you go,” I said with a smile, tipping the bellboy ten dollars. He quickly snatched the money from my fingers and sprang for the door, not even making eye contact. I thought it was rude that he didn’t even say ‘Thank You.’
Ryan’s suite was magnificent, of course! Private bedroom, enormous living room, and a large dining table with a lush fresh flower centerpiece made the room feel like an apartment.
“Ryan?” I called out, wondering why he didn’t meet me at the door. I hurried to the master bedroom and opened the double doors. “Are you here?” I wandered around all the rooms but he wasn’t in the suite.
Where is he? We had agreed to meet here. I looked at my watch. I had expected him to be waiting for me, figuring he’d scoop me up in his arms and carry me off to the bedroom the moment we saw each other.
I tried his cell number, anxious to let him know I had arrived. My smile turned to a frown when his voicemail answered instead.
I took my thin jacket off, struggling a bit to get the cuff over my cast, and laid it over the back of the silk-clad chair.
Shimmery hues of black, blue, and cream-colored fabric caught my attention. Next to the polished mahogany dining table stood a long metal clothing rack on wheels.
I hesitantly approached, admiring the exquisite evening gowns that hung on padded hangers. I let my fingers feel the silkiness of the different fabrics. One striking dress stood out over the rest – the bustier top was made of buttery soft ivory leather, crisscrossing at the waist. Curiosity made me look. Atelier Versace, I read the garment tag. I felt like I was committing a crime just by touching the dresses.
Stacked up on the floor were dozens of shoeboxes - Jimmy Choo, Christian Louboutin, you name it. Every high-end shoe designer was represented.
Why does Ryan have women’s clothing on display? Must be nice to be an actress – look at all the perks that come along with it. Wait, am I in Ryan’s room or Lauren’s room?
I turned around in confusion then hurried off to the bedroom again, noticing Ryan’s suitcases and his Gibson guitar. I double-checked the luggage tags and sighed with relief after reading “Shell-B Enterprises.” Okay, I’m in the right room.
I reached for my suitcase and noticed there was an envelope lying next to it on the bed. Hmm, that’s weird. Did the bellboy leave a bill for something? I opened the envelope and removed the folded paper. Ah! Ryan did leave a note! My eyes focused on the handwriting... but it wasn’t Ryan’s.
Are you serious? No, this can’t be happening! My brain tried to rationalize what I just read. No, he wouldn’t do this to me. Not today. Not on my birthday.
I looked at the note again, trying to read it as it shook in my hand.
There was my name…
I felt the weight of the entire world as it collapsed in on me, shattering every bone in my body. My heart was instantly torn to shreds and smashed into dust.
… There was her signature, clearly encouraging my boyfriend to leave me. The rumors, the lies, the photographs – could they all be true?
… The words jumped off the page like a sharp dagger into my heart.
“No. Damn It! NO!” I
cried out. “No! He loves me! Me, not her!”
Did he really fly me down here to break up with me or wasn’t I supposed to see this little remnant of his infidelity?
How could he do this to me? Would he really be that coldhearted, leaving this behind for me to read?
Why not? After all, Thomas did it to me.
No, Ryan is not like that. He is a good person… who is cheating on me.
I started to hyperventilate. A million pictures flashed through my mind... Ryan kissing my hand, his smile that made my heart flutter, hearing his voice say he loves me a thousand times.
No, there has to be a rational explanation for this! There has to be! I staggered slightly, feeling dizzy all of a sudden.
My foot stepped onto something on the floor, right next to where my suitcase was placed. I bent to pick up the shimmery fabric. As I unraveled it, I discovered that in my hands was a pair of black silk women’s panties. Like creeping death, more evidence of his infidelity unfolded to me. Visions of him with Lauren, making love to her in this bed right in front of me, snuffed out every one of my joyous memories.
My cell phone shrilled in my pocket, startling me. My pulse quickened and I recoiled back, almost falling over my own feet.
“Hello?” I answered in between sobs.
“Is this Taryn Mitchell?” the male voice inquired abruptly.
“Yes. Who is this?” I muttered, wiping my cheek on my sleeve.
“It’s not important. Write down this address,” he ordered. His voice was gruff, muffled.
“What?” I asked, completely confused.
“He is with her right now,” the stranger informed. “We’re taking pictures of them together. Get a pen.”
While I listened to the clicking sounds of a camera, I scrambled to the desk and found a hotel tablet – the same stationary that Lauren used.
“Do you have a pen?” the man yelled.
“Yes, but I don’t understand.”
“You need to see the truth. Hurry. The hotel will get a taxi for you. Come to 2950 West Palermo Avenue - the restaurant on the corner. Shoot that… he’s kissing her again! Ah! He is so busted! 2950 West Palermo.”