Where The Little Birds Go

by Celeste, B.

  It’s Aaron who caresses Olivia’s cheek and says, “I’m not sure it’s possible to go back that far, Beck. I know you’ve tried, but it’s never been me as much as I wanted it to be.”

  Olivia withdraws, eyes widening.

  Aaron smiles sadly. “I’ll love you unconditionally like I promised I would when you gave us a chance, but we both know you want to take it back.”

  “Ian—” She steps back. “What…?”

  His head tilts. “When the right person comes along, you don’t have to work so hard to be happy. That’s all you do though. Work. Happiness is just supposed to happen when you’re with the person that’s meant to be yours. It may not always be easy, but it's supposed to be more than this. I see it in your eyes, Rebecca. It’s not me you want.”

  Olivia stares at the floor.

  Aaron tips her chin up. The smile on his face is genuine as he brushes her bottom lip with the pad of his thumb. “This is on me too. I wanted to pretend we were meant to be something more. I know you and your heart. You wanted to give me that happiness, but it’s not mine to have.”

  Olivia tries speaking but can’t. A choked sob escapes her lips that Aaron tries comforting away by holding her close to him. She buries her face in his chest as he brushes his fingers through her hair.

  “It’s okay, Beck. I forgive you.”

  It takes her a moment, but she says, “You shouldn’t. I’m a bad person, Ian. The things I’ve done…”

  Aaron draws back and holds her face. “We all do things we’re not proud of to find the happiness that’s just out of reach.”

  Olivia just stares.

  Leaning in, Aaron kisses her cheek. “It was too easy for us, wasn’t it? It’s not supposed to be that way.”

  Finally, Olivia says, “No. It’s not.”

  When the scene ends, Buchannan goes over and pats Aaron on the back and says something to Olivia that makes her smile. It gives me time to nudge Kinley’s arm, getting her to turn her focus from them to me.

  I smile. “I’m proud of you, Little Bird.”

  She blinks. “Thanks?”

  Chuckling at her confusion, I rest my ankle on my opposite knee and lean back. “You congratulated me a while ago on living my dreams but look at you. Neither of us chose easy career paths, yet we still made it. I can tell how much this means to you.” I gesture around us. “I see the way you mouth along with the lines and try wiping away tears before anyone can see you’re emotional. You deserve to be though. Embrace it.”

  She looks away for a moment. “I’m not a fan of people seeing me emotional.”

  “Why?”

  Her hand forms a fist and squeezes, before loosening her grip. “When you let your feelings be known, you’re vulnerable. People look at you differently when they see you at your weakest. I know because I was there before.”

  My brows draw in. “Kinley…”

  “Lincoln pities me,” she informs me. “I get why you think they’re on my side, but it’s not like that. They see me as a heartbroken teenager who trusted a boy with big dreams. I decided to channel all those emotions into my work to get where I am. I’m lucky that there’s a distraction for the town to focus on. That doesn’t change how they see me though. I’ll always be seventeen with puffy eyes, waiting for the day that the boy she loves shows back up.”

  I hear one thing. Loves. Present tense.

  “Like I said. I forgive you, Corbin.”

  My eyes open to stare at her.

  “I wouldn’t be here without you.” One of her shoulders lift and lowers as her expression turns sullen. “Kind of funny, huh? I made a career for myself because of you. I used to be so angry, but I should be grateful.”

  I shake my head, sitting up. “Don’t be grateful for that. We both know I don’t deserve the credit for what you put to paper.”

  She slides out of her chair and clicks her tongue. “Yet, here we are.”

  I purse my lips. “Yeah. Here we are.”

  Before she can walk away, I call out her name again. “You never came to my trailer the other day.”

  She hesitates. “Do you really think that’s a good idea?”

  All I can do is smile. “No,” I admit. “But I’ll make it worth it.”

  To my surprise, I see the faintest smile tip up the corners of her lips. And that’s how I know there’s hope for us. Because she’ll show up.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Kinley / Present

  The sun is setting by the time I find the courage to walk over to the trailer with Corbin’s name plastered on the door. It’s nothing like I would expect a star’s trailer to look like. It reminds me of my brother’s first single wide that he proudly bought for himself shortly after moving away from home.

  Taking a step back, I debate on what to do. I should be going back to the hotel and eating the leftover salad I ordered the night before. My laptop should be out with my current book pulled up to be written so I can submit it to my editor as agreed upon.

  What I shouldn’t be doing is this.

  One deep breath later, I’m knocking on the door just below the lettering of his first name. I remember an old conversation we had about what his trailer would look like someday. Having his name on a door is like having mine on a book cover. It makes the dream more real.

  When the door opens, my mouth goes dry at the sight of Corbin in blue jeans and a loose tee. It takes me a moment to pull myself together from all the times I’d see him wear this exact thing when we were younger. Long gone is the business wear that differentiates his two worlds.

  “I was wondering if you were going to bail,” he says by greeting. Half his lips quirk up at me as he steps aside. “Coming in or going to keep staring?”

  Brushing it off, I straighten my shoulders and walk up the steps. Just as I pass him, his chest brushes my shoulder as he reaches behind me to close the door. He chuckles when I eye him suspiciously, then walks further into the trailer toward a little kitchen area.

  “This is…” I take in how homey the inside is. There are a few counters with a microwave perched on one and a fridge next to it. The sink is on the opposite end, where the kitchen leads to a built-in wooden eating area. The benches are padded and clothed with black cushions and the table between them is the same wood as the counters and paneling.

  “Wow,” is all I remark.

  As I’m turning to examine the rest of the space, I stop and stare at the large flat screen TV mounted on the wall in front of a huge black suede couch. The screen has Carrie displayed on it with the curser hovering over the play button.

  Corbin comes up beside me. “It’s the remake they did a few years back. Figured you probably hadn’t seen it.”

  He’s right, I haven’t. Anything that reminded me of him I tried to avoid if I could help it. Since Stephen King was his obsession, it wasn’t hard to do. I’ve only read a few books by him that Corbin got for me, and not another since.

  “You wanted to be part of that film,” I say quietly, walking over to the couch and seeing a closed pizza box on the wooden coffee table.

  “It would have been cool,” he agrees, sitting down on one end of the couch. “But I still plan on being part of other films based on his books. Plus, the cast for this is great.”

  I eye the spot nearest me, then look back at the assortment of food items littering the table. My gut tells me there’s something familiar in the plastic bag, so I reach forward and peek inside.

  “What are you doing?” I whisper.

  “Going back.”

  My eyes widen. “Corbin—”

  “Just sit down, Little Bird.” He pats the cushion and picks up the remote. “We both need a break. What better way to do it?”

  The Twizzlers, pizza, and soda take me back to the uneasy nervousness I experienced the very first time I hung out with him in his bedroom in that yellow house in Lincoln. It should be different now—the gut feeling settled into my stomach as I examine the man draped causally on the couch only feet from me.
It isn’t though.

  Corbin was confident then, but that confidence is tenfold now. He has no reason not to be. His body is in pique condition, his career is huge, and he can get anything he wants with one little wink from those stupid melted lead eyes.

  “You’re not playing fair,” I state, reluctantly taking a seat despite my better judgment egging me to leave.

  The wafting scent of cheese and grease has my stomach growling. I haven’t eaten since breakfast because I’ve been battling myself all day on should I or shouldn’t I. Logically, the answer is obvious.

  But here I am, losing a battle I had no chance at winning as soon as he stepped back into my life. I knew I’d wind up here eventually, pretending like nine years didn’t separate us so we could live our own lives like nothing happened. As soon as my agent called to tell me the exciting news about the movie cast, it was all over.

  When the movie starts, Corbin passes me a plate of pizza and tosses an unopened package of Twizzlers at me. Glaring at his innocent expression, I just focus on eating and watching the screen.

  “You’re not eating any of this?” I ask when he leans back without getting himself any.

  “Not really in the diet plan.”

  I roll my eyes. “I’m not eating all this on my own, superstar. Don’t you have some overpriced trainer to get you to do a few extra sit-ups for occasions like this?”

  His laugh is deep, causing little goosebumps to pebble my arms. “Suppose you’re right. I don’t have a shirtless scene tomorrow, so I guess I can indulge.”

  Shaking my head, I don’t bother remarking on how one slice of pizza won’t harm his chiseled physique. The last thing he needs from me is a compliment about his body. Then he’d know I’ve most definitely been looking.

  We’re halfway through the movie when I decide to tuck my legs under me and settle into the small decorative pillow on my side. The Twizzlers on my lap have been dug into, and a few even thrown in the general direction that Corbin is sitting.

  After getting comfortable, I freeze when a warm hand caresses my calf. My head lifts to see Corbin’s eyes on the screen but his hand kneading absentmindedly at the tight muscles in my legs. I tell myself to move away or tell him to stop, but all I do is watch.

  Swallowing, I try resting back down and watching the movie. A few minutes later, he extends my legs straight to drape them across his lap. His fingers work their magic on the other leg, before his palm drifts down to my socked feet. I unintentionally moan when he starts massaging them one at a time, leaving my eyes growing heavy from the relaxing sensation.

  “You probably shouldn’t do that,” I say quietly, half sleep ridden.

  “Probably,” he agrees.

  “I shouldn’t be here.”

  “No?”

  Keeping my eyes closed, I shake my head and listen to the movie. “We both know I shouldn’t. Your wife…” My throat hurts and tears threaten to spill suddenly from my eyes. “I don’t know why I’m doing this to myself.”

  His hands stop moving. “Lena and I aren’t … we’re a bit complicated to explain, Kinley. The public doesn’t really understand situations like ours.”

  I can’t help but laugh dryly. There’s a line in my book between Ryker and Beck that sounds an awful lot like this. You can’t always predict when your story becomes relatable, but somehow, I walked right into this narrative.

  Literally.

  “How’s that?” I play along.

  To my surprise, his hands begin moving again as he explains. “Lena comes from a very traditional family. When we started dating, things got serious fast. Expectations were heavy despite our careers pulling us in different directions, but we both wanted more.”

  I won’t lie and say it hurts to hear him talk about the woman he married. A woman who isn’t me. Nobody wants to hear about how their ex moved on, complicated relationship or not.

  “We rushed into a marriage that neither of us second guessed because we thought it was what was best,” he continues softly. With my eyes still closed, I wonder if he’s looking at me or staring at the TV hoping he won’t see the crushed expression on my face. “Her family helped plan the wedding and in no time we were saying our vows. Things got … intense. Between work, married life, you name it. We’ve barely spent more than a few months together in the years we’ve been married. Our jobs keep us busy. We try making it work and meeting up when we can, but it isn’t that simple. This year we decided it may not be worth the hassle.”

  My entire body locks up.

  “But like I said. Her family is traditional.”

  Now I’m hyperaware of the conversation we’re having. My eyes open but stay focused in front of me instead of at the man who’s divulging secrets that clearly nobody else knows. Wetting my dry lips, I try evening my heartbeat that’s racing from the unknown.

  “Lena can’t get divorced without repercussions from her family. She’s worried about what they’ll say when they find out it didn’t work out between us. Her father is strict, her mother tried getting her to reconsider from the beginning. It…”

  I hold my breath.

  “It wasn’t my biggest mistake in life,” he admits, blowing out a breath. “Because Lena is what I needed for a while. She became something I could focus on without looking back. I’m a selfish man for that, but it wasn’t any different for her. We clicked, had some things in common, but it wasn’t meant to work out.”

  I ask, “How do you know?”

  “Because we could have tried harder to make it work and decided not to,” he answers instantly. “This project has meant more to me than I realized it would. I knew I wanted to be on it as soon as my agent told me it was an adaptation of your book, Kinley. Being able to see you again? Bring something you did to life? It just felt like something I needed to be part of.”

  I sit up and stare at him.

  He shrugs and looks at me. “What I didn’t realize at the time was that this story is beyond you and me. It started out as a way to have you in my life again when I thought I needed the opposite in order to stop thinking about you. But then I read the script and I realized that Lena and I are no different than Beck and Ian. We both settled for a happiness we thought we could achieve while pining for other things. This industry feeds off failed relationships, so normally a divorce would only be front page news for a day before the next scandal happened. It isn’t like that for her and me though.”

  I try wrapping my head around what he’s saying. “Are you really staying married to someone you don’t love because of what other people will think?”

  “Kinley, it’s not that simple.”

  “When I wrote Beck and Ian’s storyline, I did it because I wanted to show that some people felt like settling was their punishment for the things they did in the past.” I draw my legs in and wrap my arms around my bent knees. “Beck blames herself for not loving Ryker the way he wanted her to when they were younger. She chose to move on and experience what it’s like to live and date and get attention from other people. You know what she felt?”

  “Lonely,” he answers audibly.

  I nod once. “Yes. Lonely. Beck knew how much Ian loved her which is why she thought she could find that same love for him as time passed. Why wouldn’t she? He’s a kind, supportive, caring person. In every way, they’re perfect for each other. But she knows that there are other people meant for them—not just how Ryker has always been meant for her, but that some lucky girl out there is meant for Ian. Settling for people that you think you can be happy with just means taking away other people’s happiness.”

  “Why?”

  I blink. “Why what?”

  “Why would Beck blame herself for not loving Ryker from the start? Any logical person would want what she did. Anyone would choose to go out and live their lives instead of being saddled with someone as intense as Ryker.”

  “That’s not how love works, Corbin.”

  He cocks his head. “Then tell me how it works. Explain it to me, Little Bird, b
ecause I’m clearly not following. You say that love is painful and nearly impossible to find. You believe that there’s a right time and place for everything, and that if it doesn’t work out then that’s all there is to it. What happens then?”

  My lips part … then close.

  “I’ll tell you what,” he says, grabbing my leg and pulling me forward. I yelp when my butt grazes his thigh and his hand grips one of my legs while the other awkwardly spreads to make room for his body as he leans forward.

  “Corbin—”

  “We fuck up. Over. And over. And over.” He twists his body so he’s between my thighs, hands resting on other side of my torso as he hovers over me. “You said it best. We’ll keep making mistakes because we don’t want to learn. Are you going to deny that you haven’t thought about us? Felt anything for me? Remembered what it was like when we were together?”

  My hands shake as they find his chest, but I don’t have the energy to push him away like I mean to. “Are you really asking me that? I’m not the one who walked away! You are. Don’t ask me stupid questions about if I remember what it was like because you know I do. You know how much it hurts that there’s not one thing I’ve forgotten. It fucking haunts me, Corbin. How much I gave to you, expected from you, it hurts so bad that I want to rip my heart out until it’s clean of you.”

  “Windows of opportunity open and close all the time in this industry,” he tells me without any real emotion spattered across his face. “If you stop for even a second then you become irrelevant.”

  I’m not sure why he says that. “You’ve never been irrelevant, Corbin.”

  His hand brushes my cheek. “Not to you, Little Bird. Never to you. But the world I threw myself into? That’s different. If I called you sooner, came home sooner, I would have had nothing to show for leaving in the first place.”

  My lip quivers. “And you do now?”

  His brows furrow. “Do you not see what I’ve built for myself? The name? The movies? The deals? I’m exactly where I want to be in this business. It’s everything outside my career that I want to change. So, what do you mean?”