Our last week together arrives and we spend it in solitude as much as possible. Even Hilda has taken to arriving late in the mornings and leaving earlier in the day, and I don’t see her at all that week. I cherish every moment I spend with Harley. I know this may be the end of us no matter how much I know he doesn't think so.
Our final weekend together, we stay at his house always touching and caressing each other, if we are not making love. I try to soak up the taste and feel of him so that I will remember all of him when he is gone. Neither of us speak about his leaving. I know I avoid bringing it up because I don’t want Harley to see how much it is affecting me. He obviously has his own reasons for not speaking about it either.
Sunday is our last night together and we stay awake all night, not wanting to sleep the night away. Harley has to leave on an early flight at 7:00am. Looking at the bedside clock from where I rest on his chest listening to his heart beat, I watch as it flicks to 4:30am, silently pleading with time to slow down. Harley has to leave at 5:00am. I inhale deeply, his scent filling me, as I hook my leg over him, and swing my body up over him. Straddling him, I place both my hands on his chest. I gently squeeze the hard muscles of his upper chest and then using my fingers I gently trace each of the wings of the eagle tattoos he has on either side of his chest. I am going to miss being able to do this. Watching as he moves his hands from my hips to reach up and grasp both my breasts causing his eyes to dilate, I secretly revel in the fact that I can turn him on with only a touch. Moving my fingers down over his abdomen I trace his tattoo, following the lines of each of the birds that are holding a ring between them. I move my fingers to trace over the indent that leads to his pubic hair and watch as his muscles jump and flex under my touch. Lifting myself, I reach for him, finding him rock hard. I hold it steady as I lower onto it slowly, savoring the feel of him inside me. Knowing this may be our last love making session, I slowly lift and lower myself placing my hands back on his chest, lightly pinching his nipples. Harley reaches one hand around me to grasp my bottom and while keeping the other one on my breast. I watch his face as I pleasure him. I never want this to end.
Having worked Harley into a fevered frenzy, I sink myself down on him one last time and feel him spurting inside of me. Absorbing the feeling, storing it away to take and remember while he is gone, sets off my own orgasm. Falling forward onto his chest, I feel a tear slip from my eye. Swallowing, not wanting him to see me crying or causing a change in the mood, I force the tears back and revel in the feel of him underneath me.
"I have to shower," Harley gently whispers and strokes my hair. Nodding, I slowly push myself up. My heart is screaming as he slides out of me. I force myself to lie down next to him on the bed. Harley gives me a deep kiss. As he pulls back from me, he pauses a moment, staring into my eyes, as if he is going to say something. He must decide against it and instead places his forehead to mine for a few seconds before sliding out of bed at the very last minute to grab a shower. I painfully keep my arms by my side so that I don't wrap them around him and beg for him to stay. I listen to the shower turn on and I can’t stay in bed. Opening the door to the washroom, I step inside and watch him through the clear glass. My heart is breaking and tears start streaming down my face. I let them flow hoping they will stop before he is done his shower. My throat is burning, making it impossible for me to speak and I feel a deep ache inside my body. Harley is leaving and he is taking part of me with him, a part that will never be the same. Just as I knew he would.
He’s my Achilles heel.
He turns off the shower then notices me standing there. His face falls as he sees my tears. Wrapping a towel around himself, he steps out and comes over to me. Wracking sobs race through me uncontrollably. I want to beg him to stay but I can't speak through the burning of my throat.
"Shhh...Kate," he says placing his hand on my head to pull me to him. I stay like this for a few moments with my arms wrapped around his waist and my head on his chest. Forcing myself to quiet my sobs, for his sake, I focus on the water droplets on his skin. I take a finger and trace the droplet down his chest, over his tattoos. I feel his breath hitch. I lean forward and place a kiss on his chest inhaling his scent. I am completely in love with this man who comes from a different world than mine, and I have to let him go. Placing a last kiss to his chest, I step back. Not looking at him, I return to the bedroom and sit on the edge of the bed. I stare at the floor while holding my tears back, waiting for him to dress. His booted feet appear before me and I look up to see him dressed in his tight black skinny jeans and black t-shirt. He is so beautiful on the inside and out. I keep telling myself over and over that I should be thankful for the small amount of time that I have been so lucky to have with him.
Leaning down to grasp my hand, he pulls me off the bed. Chase lifts his head from his own bed and Harley tells him to stay.
I follow Harley in the heavy silence to the front door. Opening it I hear him sigh. I am clinging to his hand with both of mine, terrified.
"I have to go or I will miss my flight," he gently says.
Nodding, I still hold his hand. I have never been so tortured or torn apart in my life.
Leaning towards me he whispers against my lips, "I will miss you,” before he places a gentle kiss on my lips. I know the time has come, the time I have known had been coming, dreaded and tried to avoid since first meeting him. It was time to let him go.
Forcing my hands to unwrap a finger, one by one, from his, I watch as his hand slides out of mine. I feel a great loss overwhelm me. I can't look at his face or I will beg him to stay.
I hear the door open, then there is a silent pause before I hear it close. I sink to the floor. The cool tiles soothe my heated cheeks, and I silently, stupidly pray that the cool will numb some of this pain. I stay like this trying to get myself under control, unaware and uncaring of time passing. Finally gathering enough strength, I crawl to the nearest wall to prop my back up against it. I lose control again as Harley's face flashes before me. I know I will never be the same.
I knew he would leave me in pieces.
Unsure how long I have been there, the thought crosses my mind that Hilda will soon be here. I feel panic slide through me, suddenly worried about how much time I have lain here. I want to be gone before she arrives. I can’t bear to have anyone hovering over me. I want and need to be alone.
Using the wall to push myself into a standing position, I head up the staircase to Harley's room. Chase follows me around the room, whimpering as I quickly stuff all my belongings into my bag, overflowing it but uncaring, knowing I have to hurry to avoid Hilda and her sympathy. I need to get out of here. There are too many memories. Taking a last glance around, my eyes avoiding the messed up bed, I walk through the door, letting Chase follow me out and close it. Quickly rushing down the staircase, I exit through the front door, locking Chase in behind me, and walk the long driveway until I reach the end. Opening and then re-closing the gate with my code, I walk a couple of blocks to hail a cab. On the way home, I take my phone out of my purse to call work to let them know I need a sick day. There is a text message from Harley.
My heart racing, I quickly open his text:
XO
Tears stream down my face. Not responding, I call work trying to bring some normalcy to my voice but it cracks several times during the call and I am excused without question. There is no way I can hold it together today. Entering my apartment, I drop my bag and grabbing a sofa cushion I press it to my chest to try to keep the deep ache that is spiralling through me from hurting so much. It doesn't help. I lie back on the sofa and let the tears run until I fall asleep.
Waking up, I look at the time on my phone. It is a little after noon. Pushing myself to a sitting position, I slowly take stock of my body. My head is pounding, my eyes feel raw and sore, my chest feels like there is a huge hole through it. I need fresh air.
Changing into cropped yoga pants and a t-shirt, I slowly stroll around my neighborhood. I recall the day when we went for a jog and it brings a small smile to my face. I will always have the pleasant memories we made together. I have to be satisfied with that. Taking a deep breath, I head back home.
Entering my apartment, I check my phone. There is one missed call and there are two text messages from Harley:
Landed in London. Waiting for the lads. Tried calling. Xo.
The other text reads:
Boarding our plane to Australia. Tried calling again. Sorry I missed you. Guess you are asleep. Sleep well. XO.
I quickly dial his number but it goes straight to voice mail. I listen to his voice say he is unavailable and to please leave a message. I feel a deep yearning for him. I don't trust my voice so I hang up and text him instead:
I was asleep. Miss you.
The rest of the week results in missed phone calls on both ends. Texts and emails keep me going but by the start of week two, I am desperate to hear his voice. I resort to something I did when I first met Harley, I googled him. The short fan videos and the interviews done by various media, holds me for a few more days. One fan video is taken from front row where Harley is sat on the edge of the stage. The fan is screaming his name and Harley reaches out to slap her hand followed up by a grin. I feel unease slip through me but I abruptly push it away. Harley's texts and emails to me clearly indicate he misses me as much as I miss him. By the end of the second week, I am desperate to hear his voice. I feel out of sorts, and not myself, with this much dependency on hearing someone’s voice. As I leave work on Friday for another long uneventful weekend, I text him to call me no matter the time. I resign myself to spending another weekend alone. Lexie has been pestering me to go out but I am not up for it.
Falling asleep on the couch while watching yet another movie, I am woke up by my phone ringing. Seeing Harley's face on my screen, my heart races and I am abruptly and fully awake.
"Hello?" I answer hesitantly, now unsure of what he will say to me.
"Hello? Are you okay?" I finally hear his voice. I feel tears slip down my face. I miss him so much. I miss feeling whole.
"Yeah..." I whisper quietly.
I hear him sigh. "You scared me with your text to call you as soon as I could. It would have been earlier but I had a fan meet and greet before the concert. Tonight’s concert just ended."
"Sorry," I mumble. I now feel stupid in my neediness.
"It's okay," he says quietly, and I hear the hesitancy in his voice.
I hear a female scream his name in the back ground. I want to vomit.
We both remain silent for a few moments and awkwardness settles over me. I want to ask who she was but I won’t let myself stoop to being a clinging, whining girlfriend.
"I should let you go. I only wanted to make sure all was going well with your tour," I say quietly, suddenly unsure about asking him to call. My tears are now flowing freely. I feel so far removed from him and from what we had, but I find a deep reserve to not let him hear.
"Tour is great," he says.
Nodding to myself, I cover my mouth so he can’t hear me as I take a deep breath.
"Kate, I wish you were staying at my house," Harley says. I hear frustration in his voice.
Sighing through my tears, I say, "I told you Harley that I would not be staying there."
I hear loud knocking on his end before I hear loud voices and music in the background. My heart twists, my stomach flops.
"Harley, where are you?" I ask before I can stop myself.
"I just arrived back to my hotel room. Sorry Kate,” he sighs heavily before hesitantly continuing, “but the lads showed up bringing a party with them."
My stomach completely dips and I swallow back vomit.
“Hold it together, Kate,” I silently tell myself.
"Okay. I should let you go," I squeeze out.
"Miss you Kate. Wish you were here," Harley says.
"Take care," I say quickly and hang up. I wish now I had not asked him to call me.
Curling into a ball, I imagine all kinds of things happening at that party, making it impossible to sleep. I remain a miserable mess the rest of the weekend. When Monday slowly rolls around, I drag myself to work and manage to get through another work week. Friday approaches and I resolve myself to not spend another weekend alone. I call Lexie and we go out. After five glasses of wine, I am open to dancing with the guy who is now standing in front me with his hand out. Not caring who he is, I let myself go and concentrate on feeling the music. It feels good to not think about anything but moving my body. When I feel his hands on my hips, I put my arms around his neck and close my eyes, thinking of Harley. Vaguely aware of a few flashes but chalking it up to the strobe lights of the dance floor, I ignore it. This guy's hands don't feel the same, his height and body don’t feel right. I open my eyes.
I need to get out of here.
"Sorry, I have to go," I mumble to the guy and remove my arms from his neck. I stumble to where Lexie is dancing with a guy and tell her I have to go.
Outside the club, I take a deep breath of air. Lexie appears beside me. I have never been dependent on her and our friendship, but right now I feel so fragile. I hate feeling this way.
"Oh Kate, I wish you never met him," she whispers sadly.
Nodding, I feel tears escape my eyes.
Wrapping her arm around my waist, she escorts me home.
I am a mess by the time my apartment door is open and I sit on my couch. My head is throbbing from the combination of my wracking sobs and alcohol. Lexie stays the night with me, not saying much, only being there with me because she knows I don’t want to be alone.
I know I can't go on like this. It isn't living.
Saturday morning, she says, "Okay Kate. This has to stop. You are a mess."
I sigh and admit, "This long distance thing...” I shrug as I continue, “I am really struggling with it but that isn't the worst of it. Harley is surrounded by beautiful women all throwing themselves at him. His travelling and the time distance never allow us to talk. I know he still cares but what is the point of a relationship if we are separated more than we are together? He still has another seven months of touring. Seven months of never seeing him."
Lexie sighs heavily. Holding my eyes, she replies softly, "I guess you have a decision to make. I know he was definitely into you when he was here, but I see what trying to stay with him is doing to you. I hate seeing you this way." She hugs me as the tears start. I know I have to make a decision.
“Do I take what little he can give me, enjoying him only in the moment, when he has time for me? Do I end it, and with time, heal and have him nothing as more than memories?” I silently keep torturing myself with the same questions the rest of the weekend.
Lexie thankfully stays with me until Monday morning. When I walk to work, there is a crowd of people outside my office building. As I approach, I notice most of them have cameras, which they aim towards me as they spot me. I stop abruptly as they rush towards me. I am bombarded with questions and flashes go off everywhere in my face. I am so shocked I stay where I am for a moment before a hard shove and hearing a woman call me “Bitch,” forces my brain to work. Barely keeping myself from falling, I head for the entrance of the building. I can't turn and go home because I know they will follow.
By the time I reach the entrance, my hair has fallen from its pony tail, my shirt is ripped at the shoulder and there are scratches on one of my arms. Opening the door and going inside does not deter them. The shoving, pulling, screaming obscenities and questions are all continued to the elevator where three unsure looking building security guards rescue me. They guide me into the elevator, and one follows right behind, while the other two remain outside, not allowing anyone else on.
"Miss, not sure what is going on but I would advise you to be careful leaving today. They have been here since 7:00am this morning and building maintenance has had to call for backup. You can call us when you are ready and we will help as best as we can," the security officer suggests helpfully. They are not experienced in dealing with this as our building is usually pretty quiet.
Nodding, I reply gratefully, "Thank you."
I press the button for my floor and try to stop myself from shaking. The paparazzi have found out who I am and they were going to be merciless.
Exiting the elevator, I head quickly to my office. It takes me several minutes to settle down as my mind whirls. How do I deal with this?
I try calling Harley but it goes straight to voice mail. I almost cry at the sound of his voice. Leaving a short message for him to call me, I hang up.
I have to try to get through my day. Pushing the incident from my mind, the day passes. As it nears 5:00pm, I ready myself to leave. Grabbing my purse, I silently pray that the paparazzi have moved on. Calling security to check out the situation, they inform me that they are still waiting. I let them know I am on my way before hanging up and calling a taxi.
As the elevator doors open, I am immediately barraged by camera flashes and questions are shouted at me. One paparazzi grabs my attention as he shoves a picture of Harley holding hands with a female in front of my face, asking me how I feel dating a womanizer. I almost trip but one of the security officers steadies me. I barely register that there are nine security officers surrounding me to bring me to my waiting taxi. They assist me into the taxi, and as we leave, several paparazzi jump on motorcycles to chase me home. Having no where else to go, my only option is home. I can't let these people follow me to Lexie's. It wouldn't be fair. I won’t go to Harley's after seeing the picture of him with someone else. As I exit the taxi, the paparazzi that followed continue to follow me inside to the elevator. I press the elevator button and when it arrives, I hop on turning to face them. Extending my arms out to deter any of them from getting on the elevator, the cameras keep flashing as they see an opportunity to snap clear, unobstructed pictures of my face. When the doors slide close, I press the button to select the second floor. Getting off, my heart thumping, I run to the stairs to climb the rest of the way to my apartment on the third floor. Opening the door to my apartment, I quickly slam it behind me. Tears are streaming from my eyes as I realize the situation I am now in.
My phone rings and I realize it is my work number. Puzzled, I answer it while trying to stop the flow of tears.
"Hello?" I ask hesitantly.
"Is Katherine Knight there please?" I hear a man’s voice ask very professionally.
"Speaking," I respond cautiously.
"This is Peter Sanchez of the human resources department," he states confidently.
"I remember you. You conducted my interview," I say, hesitant. Work has never called me before.
"Ms. Knight, unfortunately we have to terminate your employment,” he states in his professional voice. My stomach drops as he continues, “Due to the circumstances of today, we have had to hire extra security. The paparazzi have camped out here waiting for you. The company does not want to incur these expenses. We believe it is best to part ways for the sake of the company. We will arrange for your release papers, pay in lieu of notice along with your final pay to be dropped off tomorrow morning to the address on file," he finishes coldly, as the last part of my world falls apart.
Shocked, feeling stunned, I stumble out, "Wwwhat?"
"I am sorry, Ms. Knight, but your position here is easily replaceable and the company has decided to avoid complications. While your work was great, your position within the company was entry level. Management does not want to deal with personal issues," his voice has only softened slightly.
I have lost my job. I feel sick.
"I understand Mr. Sanchez," I respond quietly.
"We wish you well, Ms. Knight," he says a little softer before he hangs up.
I am stunned. Not knowing what to do, I sit on my couch and stare at the scratches on my arm. I don't know what to do next.
Sitting there, replaying the image of Harley holding another girl's hand and then Mr. Sanchez's words going through my mind, I feel ripped apart, unsure what to do. I suddenly have no way of supporting myself and I am terrified.
My mind is whirling, trying to catch up when I realize the cuts from the scratches are stinging. I decide to take a shower to soothe them. I stop along the way to get a glass of wine from my fridge. I stay in the shower, curling into a ball on the floor, until I run out of hot water. Forcing myself to a standing position, I exit the shower and almost slip. Tears flow freely from my eyes as I become overwhelmed, feeling helpless and lost, completely out of control. All feelings that were unfamiliar to me before Harley. As I dry myself, I sip on the glass of wine trying to convince myself things will be okay.
I dress in pajamas and head out to my living room. My phone is ringing. It’s Lexie.
"Hello?" I say feeling exhausted but at least my tears are under control.
"I saw eNews. Are you okay?" she asks worriedly.
My stomach pitches. "What?" I ask stupidly.
"eNews, I just saw it," she says cautiously.
Grabbing my iPad, I flip it open and bring up the eNews website. It is all about Harley and I and some mystery girl. The headline reads, "Harley Stile. Well known womanizer is at it again. Balancing two women...or does one of them have a boyfriend on the side?" There are several pictures underneath the headline. One is of Harley and I at the airport, a lost and unsure expression on my face. Another is the picture of Harley holding another girl's hand that had been shoved in my face only a few hours ago. Then there is another of me dancing with the unknown guy from the dance bar last weekend, his hands on my hips, holding me to him as I drunkenly danced to the music. Dropping the phone, I barely make it to the bathroom when I start to vomit. I retch until there is nothing left. Standing shakily, I wash my face, not able to look at myself in the mirror. I knew that this was what my life would be like if I got involved with Harley, but I let him in anyway. I feel anger well up.
Heading back to the couch, I realize I forgot about Lexie. I pick up my phone from where I had thrown it in my haste to reach the bathroom but Lexie has disconnected. I should call her back but my hands are still shaking, my stomach still unsettled, as I try to process that my face has been splashed across every tabloid. At the top of my mind is the picture I saw of Harley holding a girl's hand.
“Who was she? Is that why he hasn't called? Maybe he thinks I am okay with him having someone else when he is on the other side of the world. We never discussed exclusive.” My mind silently whirls, thinking of all the ways I let Harley possess me and I feel like a fool, as it hits home that I was only another girl. I knew all along what getting involved with him would mean but I pushed it away. Now look at me; broken, no job, with the paparazzi hounding me.
I hear a knock on my door and I look through my peep hole, and see Lexie. I quickly open the door to let her in.
She gasps as she takes in my appearance.
"Are you okay?" she asks worriedly.
Shaking my head and biting my lip, her face twists as she steps in, closing the door quickly behind her. She wraps her arms around me. She lets me cry it out for a while before softly suggesting, "Let's sit on the couch Kate before you fall down."
Stepping back, I nod and follow her to the couch.
Grasping both of my hands, Lexie says worriedly, "There is a large group of what looks like to be paparazzi outside your apartment building doors. It is only a matter of time before they find your apartment. We have to get you out of here right away."
Nodding in agreement with Lexie, I ask, "I do have to leave but how?"
"We will dress you up and then you will stay with me until this blows over," she says determinedly.
Shaking my head, I reply, "No, I am afraid they will find me there. I have to leave LA." I feel an urgency to flee.
"Leave? You can't leave! You have work tomorrow," she is clearly surprised.
Whispering, I confide, "I was fired today." Tears spill over again. When did I become so weak? I hate this feeling.
“Damn Harley,” I silently curse him.
"Fired? Today?" she asks wide eyed. "But...why?"
"The paparazzi were waiting for me at work this morning. The firm had to hire extra security and didn't want the expense or trouble of dealing with them. They decided to let me go because I was entry level and could be easily replaced," I admit quietly. I feel I will fly apart into pieces at any moment. I have lost everything.
"Jackasses!" Lexie says vehemently and then hugs me again. “Oh my Kate. I am so sorry.”
Rolling through the very limited options I have in my mind, I say, "I am going to go home. Let this cool down."
Leaning back and looking me in the eye she says, "Oh Kate. Are you sure?"
"Can you bring me to the bus station?" I ask, trying to force some strength into my voice.
"Of course," she nods quickly.
Feeling a huge lump in my throat, I nod in return, unable to speak to thank her. Standing, I head to my room and throw items into a small suitcase. I change into blue jeans, a long sleeved shirt, running shoes and tie my hair back to place Harley’s toque over my head. It was the only thing I had taken of him with me. Putting on dark sunglasses and dark lipstick, I head back to my living room. Retrieving my keys from my purse, I remove Harley's house key and pocket it. I then hand Lexie my apartment key saying, "I won't be able to come back for a while and I may need some items shipped to me. I may have to give up my apartment if I can’t find another job soon." My voice cracks on the last sentence. My independence is gone and I have no other choice only to flee to my parent’s home.
She nods, grasping the key tightly in her hand, as her glance worriedly roams over my face, "I will help you out any way that I can."
Feeling tears rise to the surface, I push them back knowing I have to keep myself together and get out of my current situation before I break down again. Mumbling, "Let's go," I grab my suitcase. Opening the door to my apartment, I glance around the hallway, relief flooding me when I don't see anyone. We take the elevator to the main floor and manage to walk through the mass of paparazzi without suspicion. When I get to Lexie's car, my eyes widen as I look back at the number of paparazzi waiting for my appearance. Harley’s love life is obviously of great interest to them.
Lexie and I are both quiet on the drive to the bus station. I am thankful as I don't know how I can speak past the large lump in my throat. When she pulls up to the curb, I swallow but I am still unable to speak. A tear falls and Lexie places a hand on my back saying, "Honey, I know. You don't have to say anything. Text me when you get to your parents."
Nodding, I forcefully wipe the tear away, and give her a hug. Opening my door, I get out taking the small suitcase I had carried on my lap with me. Shutting the door, I don't trust myself to look back at my best friend as I walk into the terminal. Purchasing a bus ticket, I find out the next bus is leaving in ten minutes. Anxious now to leave this place, I quickly find it and hop on. Choosing a seat next to the window, I lean my head against it.
My head is spinning and my body feels as if it were a punching bag. I close my eyes and tears fall silently. I keep my face hidden throughout the drive and thankfully no one sits next to me. When I am about fifteen minutes from the bus station in my hometown, I realize I have no way to get to my parent's house without calling them, having not thought any further than getting out of LA.
When my mom answers the phone, they are clearly surprised and worried that I am showing up unannounced, with tears evident in my voice.
"Please mom. Don't ask any questions. Not right now. I can't take anymore today," I plead, barely holding back a sob.
There is a pause before she asks worriedly, "Are you okay?"
Not sure how to answer that, knowing that she will worry if I don’t give her some sort of reassurance, I respond truthfully, "I am physically fine. Can you please come get me?"
"Your dad has already left," she says quietly.
"Thanks mom," I say quietly and swallow back that large lump that hasn’t gone away today.
"See you soon honey," she replies soothingly.
When I get off the bus, my dad is waiting and I run to him. As he wraps his arms around me, the tears I had been holding back flow freely until I am hiccuping.
"Shhhh Kate," he soothes, as he squeezes me close while rubbing my back. "Let's get you home," he says, trying his best to comfort me.
Nodding into his shoulder, I let him lead me to his truck. Sliding into the passenger seat, I feel completely depleted and defeated. My dad thankfully does not ask any questions during the drive.
Pulling into the yard in front of my childhood home, I know I have made the right choice in coming here. My mother steps out through the front door and I can't wait to have her hug me. I quickly exit the truck and half walk, half run to her out stretched arms. She gently enfolds me, running her hand over my hair saying, "Oh Kate. Whatever happened?"
"I'm sorry mom. I'm so sorry," I say clinging to her. I feel so ashamed that I allowed myself to be in this mess. I had known what I was walking into by having a relationship with a playboy rock star. I knew he would leave me in pieces.
"Come on into the house and let's get you in bed. You look a mess," she says avoiding addressing my apology.
I let her hold me until we reach my childhood room where I allow her to remove all my clothing, except my underwear and bra. She places a night shirt over my head before rolling back the sheets on my bed for me to climb between. I do gratefully, my body not feeling like my own.
"I will be right back," she says gently.
Looking around my bedroom, I am glad I avoided taking Harley here as he had requested many times, wanting to meet my parents. If I had given in and brought him here, I would always have the memories of him being here. I would have had more memories, that I had once craved to create when I was with him, but now wished my mind would erase, to stop the hurt. This place has thankfully remained untainted by him.
Mom does as she promised and quickly returns with a glass of water and a pill that will help me sleep.
"Take this Kate. You are emotionally distraught and you look physically drained. You need to sleep now. We will chat in the morning," she instructs softly, but gently as she smooths the sheets over me.
Nodding, I take the glass of water and pill, forcing it past the large lump in my throat that always seems to be with me since Harley left. I hold her hand, a few tears seeping from my eyes until I drift off.
I sleep the entire evening and into the night, not waking up until the next morning. I feel beaten down both physically and mentally. My body is tender and my head feels foggy. Moaning as I climb out of bed, I reach for my phone on my nightstand. There are several texts and calls from Harley but I choose to ignore them. I am too weak when it comes to him. I am better off keeping my distance. It will help all this to pass quicker. There is nothing left between us for me but pain and memories. I send a quick text to Lexie to let her know I had arrived and also to apologize for not sending one last night. I head to the washroom, taking my phone with me, before heading downstairs where I can smell coffee. As I walk into the kitchen, my mother turns from the counter to look over my appearance.
"Coffee?" she asks.
Nodding, I sit at the table. My mom places the coffee in front of me and I take a deep sigh, tears welling up again. I swallow and blink, holding them back.
"You ready to tell me what happened?" she asks gently as she sits across from me.
The lump grows in the back in my throat as I finally open up enough to my mom to admit, "I met someone. I knew he wasn't for me, wasn’t good for me, but I didn't stay away. Now I am paying the price."
Nodding, accepting this small explanation, she asks quietly, "Is it over?"
With Harley on the opposite side of the world it was hard to let him know it was over. He was always too busy to call me or take a call from me, along with the time difference being a factor. The truth is, it was over the day he left.
Nodding in answer to my mom’s question, she watches my face before saying, "You need time to heal. Can you stay for a while?"
Nodding again, feeling broken, I admit, "I have lots of time. I was fired yesterday." Was it only yesterday that I was fired? So much happened that it seems it lasted far longer than the length of a day.
"Oh Kate! I am so sorry! What happened?" she asks as she reaches across the table to grasp and squeeze my hand.
Not being able to talk about losing my job without telling her more about Harley I say, "It is all related. I will tell you but I can’t. At least not right now, please?” I feel reprehensible for pleading with her to not ask more questions, but I feel too fragile to continue.
“Of course, sweetie,” she nods, understandingly.
“Can you take my phone? I need to be cut off from the rest of the world for a while,” I squeeze out through the pain after admitting to my mother that Harley and I are done.
She looks at me, then finally nods taking my phone. I exhale with relief. I need the temptation to call him removed.
"I think I am going to take Duke for a ride," I say in a low voice. My mind is craving alone time and my horse.
My mom smiles encouragingly as she says, "Okay honey. A bit of fresh air and Duke will help you."
This is how I cope with losing Harley. It becomes my life over the next couple of days. I wake in the morning to head immediately outside, skipping breakfast, to feed and water Duke before taking him on a long ride. I feel a freedom that I didn’t realize I was missing; the weight lifted from me, as I let him run at full gallop with my arms outstretched trying to soak up the warmth of the sun. Sometimes I stop to lie in the grass, just breathing, trying to heal, as Duke grazes on the grass next to me. I am able to push the outside world away, feel like I am gaining a little of my old self back, but nothing stops the thoughts of Harley still invading my mind. At times when I know no one can hear, I lie in the grass allowing myself to relive the memories, allowing gut wrenching sobs to overtake me in the hopes it will make it better. Make it go away faster.
My afternoons are spent helping my father with chores around the barn, the physical labour a balm to my soul, if not my mind. It also helps me to choke down a few bites of my dinner as my worried parents watch me push my food around on my plate, my interest in food lost.
But the nights are hardest as my dreams come unwelcomed every night, filled with Harley. They torture me by playing out what could have been, never reliving the memories we had made. I could have dealt with the memories because at least I lived and experienced them. Instead, my dreams tease me of what could have been our future, if he wasn’t who he was. They become my torture causing me to wake every night, screaming out to him, my body yearning for him, leaving a deep painful throbbing ache within me. My mother runs into the room each time to soothe me, my father hovering in the doorway, unsure of what to do.
As the first week slides into the next, I spend my days riding and helping with the physical labour. What is done is done and it is best I move on.
Forget.
On the eleventh day of staying with my parents, I head home after an early evening ride with Duke, praying the ride will relax me enough that my mind doesn’t torture me tonight with my dreams. After settling Duke in his stall for the night, I swing open the door to my house to find Harley sitting at the kitchen table with my mother, dressed in his tight black jeans and black t-shirt. My stomach plummets, my mind screaming for him to go away, that he can’t be here. I grasp the kitchen counter to keep myself from falling, my knees too weak to hold me up. I had hoped to never see him again, but my heart is telling me differently as my eyes greedily soak up the sight of him. My eyes connect with his and I can’t look away, my body yearning for him.
Having forgotten my mother is in the room for a moment, I jump a little as she says gently, "Kate, this young man is here to speak to you. He says he has been searching for you."
Tearing my eyes from Harley's, I glance disconcerted, at my mother. She has moved close to me, while I had been absorbing the sight of Harley, to place a hand on my back.
"I think you need to talk. Why don't you take Harley outside? It is a beautiful sunset," she suggests softly.
I feel panic slip through me and I shake my head. The memories of the sunsets Harley and I shared flash through my mind. I can't go back there. I have to keep moving forward.
Forget.
"Kate, you both need closure. He has come quite a long way to see you," she says firmly.
Knowing my mother will insist I speak with him, I feel anger spiral through me as I turn and leave the way I came. I welcome the anger. It will help me through facing him, telling him to leave me alone. I hear Harley say my name behind me and it takes everything in me to keep walking. I wrap my anger around me, shielding me from him, his ability to wrap himself around me, consuming me until I forget who I am. When I feel we are far enough away from the house I turn, knowing Harley has followed.
He stops as abruptly as I stopped, about ten feet away from me.
"Please Harley. Please, just go away," I try to state angrily, hearing my voice crack. I swallow the lump in my throat as my anger dissolves, and instead the yearning takes over, making me weak.
"Kate...please," he pleads and extends his hand, while taking a step closer.
Scared, bruised, I take a step back. I can’t fall under his spell again. I am too weak for him to be so close. I am weak because of him and I feel anger starting to spiral through me again at him because he has made me into the weak mess I am.
“My Achilles heel,” I silently remind myself.
I have to concentrate on forgetting him. I have to send him away.
He watches me step away from him and he runs his hand through his hair, showing his frustration. God he is still sexy.
“Anger, Kate, keep the anger,” I whisper in my mind.
"How did you find me?" I ask quietly, with a little venom in my voice. He has not given a thought to how I would feel if he showed up here. I told him from the moment I met him, that he was not what I needed but he persisted until I lost everything. Now he has the audacity to show up here.
“This is good, this anger,” I silently encourage myself.
"You told me where you grew up. I hired someone to find you. I wasn't sure you would be here but I knew I would find your parents and eventually find you. I am glad you are here," he says softly, taking another step, stopping once he sees me take another step back.
“I need to forget. I can’t let myself remember the taste of him, the feel of him.” My brain and my body are waging their private wars.
My heart pounds as my mind slips for a moment, remembering.
“Keep your anger, Kate,” I mentally scold myself.
"I want you to leave," I state firmly holding back tears.
"We need to talk, don't you think?" he asks, his voice anxious.
Shaking my head, I reply, "I have nothing to talk to you about. I only want you to leave."
"I think we have a lot to talk about," he says forcefully and I hear anger enter his voice.
"I learned everything I needed to know in the headlines a couple of weeks ago," I state angrily.
"I wasn't the only one hiding something it seems," he says, mocking me.
"That picture wasn't what it looked like. I went out for one night only. He asked me to dance and that was it. Your paparazzi people were following and blew it out of proportion," I state hearing my voice rise.
"If that happened with you, don't you think the paparazzi could do the same with me?" he says now trying to soothe me. I see the pain and honesty in his eyes.
I feel myself weaken a little and as he steps closer, pulling me to him. I momentarily give in and lay my head on his chest, inhaling his scent. I miss the smell of him on my skin. I squeeze my eyes shut. I know deep down I can’t let this happen again. I was very nearly destroyed when he left for his tour. I can't live like that. I know I can't. I have to step away. I can’t be weak any longer.
I have to forget.
Placing my hands on his chest, I push him slightly away while my heart is screaming at me to do the opposite. I shake my head and I feel tears blurring my vision, burning the back of my throat. I focus my eyes on his chest. I have to get him to leave before the tears fall.
"Kate please..." he says and tries to pull me back into contact with his body.
"Harley I need you to go. Forget about me. I was starting to forget about you," I whisper the lie, still staring at his chest, praying he doesn’t ask me to look at him.
"No Kate! You don't mean that. Don't do this," he pleads.
My eyes on his chest I say, "I do mean it Harley. Please go. I don't want you here."
He pauses for a moment before he says quietly, "Look at me and tell me that.”
My stomach pitches and I brace myself as I painfully lift my head to look at him. Taking in his beautiful face, the pain in his eyes, his hair moving gently in the wind, I force out the words that I know I need to say, "I don't want you in my life."
His face changes as he finally lets my words sink in.
"If you send me away, I won't be back," he says angrily, staring back at me.
"I don't want you back. I never wanted you in my life. You forced your way in and I regret letting you stay," I force around the lump in my throat.
His face registers surprise and then hurt at my words.
“Forget,” I scream at myself inside my head. My mind unwillingly flashes back to remember how he felt inside of me, remembering the taste of him. I push it firmly away. Just another few minutes and he will be gone. “Stay focused on that Kate,” I repeat over and over in my mind. “Just forget.”
He stares at me a moment longer, torn. I know he is willing me to give in, to be with him. I feel my heart racing. He has to believe me. "Keep it together Kate. Just another few minutes," I repeat again in my mind.
Harley finally turns, his eyes looking lost, and I do nothing but watch as he walks away. I watch as he climbs into his car, feeling my world fall apart. I am again screaming inside at myself, this time to not let him go, but I do nothing. I continue to watch as his car heads down our long drive and out of sight. I only realize then that tears are pouring down my cheeks. I suddenly feel weak, drained. My body hits the ground and I blissfully pass out.
When I wake, I am in a hospital bed with a doctor gently lifting my eyelids. My mother is sitting next to my bed with a worried expression.
"Ahhhh...you are awake," the doctor says, smiling into my face, as he straightens.
"What happened?" I ask as I raise my hand to my head, startled to see the IV connection. I am not a girl who usually faints. Where did this fragile girl come from? I know the answer. Harley. He weakened me.
“I need to forget,” I remind myself silently.
"Well, Kate," he responds, "You have been under enormous stress and not eating right according to your mother." He inhales and then softly adds, "And you are pregnant."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Link to Captivated: Stile After: Amazon
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More by the Author:
Series:
Short Stories:
Stand Alone:
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Copyright © Katherine King
About The Author
With her first two books in a two-part series, "Captivated," reaching #1 on Amazon and #2 on iTunes, Katherine King has established herself as an International Best-Selling Romance Author. A mother, wife, dog lover, restauranteur and innkeeper, Katherine wears many hats...but by far her favourite job is being a writer. Sign up for her free starter library at www.katherineking2001.com
Captivated: Stile Series is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is of the author’s imagination.
Copyright © Katherine King – All Rights Reserved
Dedication:
For Rebecca Fowler, my daughter & greatest accomplishment,
always my inspiration to accomplish my dreams. Because a mom is the greatest example for a daughter – to follow her own dreams someday.
And to Chase, such a big-hearted dog that stole my heart the moment I met him.
RIP – January 20, 2017
Special Thanks:
To my amazing and very supportive proof-readers who are some of my greatest fans! Debbie Mahon, Kelly Ann Marshall, Colleen Fowler and Jane Krahe – the time you took to not only read but to go back and proofread Captivated: Stile Series will never be forgotten. Thank you so very, very much.
Also, many thanks to my hubby, my biggest fan, who broadcasted to everyone he knew that I was a romance writer while I was still very much afraid to be me.