Walk Away, The Romance of Nick and Layla (Part 1) (11 page)

"That's bullshit! I love you Layla. I
always have. I didn't mean to hurt you. I never... What do I have to do to you
or for you that will finally prove to you that I love you Layla?"

I ran my fingers up his neck and gently
held his head in place, holding his ears, pulling him close. "Is that what
you were doing when you were making love to those other girls? You were loving
me? When you put your tongue in their mouths and lightly touched their innocent
skin?" I tilted my head to the side and looked him into him deeply.
"Want to know what I was doing while you were getting off on all your
virgin groupies? I was home, touching myself," I picked up his hands and
placed them on my hips. "And wishing it were your hands on my skin. But
never once did I imagine that your hands would have been on someone else's. So
you tell me Nick... Is that how deep your love is? Your never ending supply of
pop star sperm riding into someone else's body?"

Nick squeezed my hips tight. "What
would you say if I said yes? Would that make you feel better? Okay Layla. Yeah.
I fucked other girls. Other women..."

I reached up and palmed the counter surface
until I latched onto the cold metal that had once warmed my skin. I clasped it
into his hand, wrapping his fingers around that ring. "Well now you can
get those other women to deal with it Nick. Because I'm done."

Nick's eyes darted between mine, trying to
find something. "You know what's funny about you Layla?"

I clawed my fingers into his hand, pressing
the ring like a knife into him.

"I think you like it."

My smile faded into a cold, hard glare.
"What?" I asked.

Nick took the ring from my grasp and held
my hand in such quick movements that I barely felt it happening. "Despite
how many times you say it's over," he circled the ring around my
fingernail, "you always come back to me." He slid the ring completely
onto my finger and held it there. "And that tells me one thing." I
could feel my own breath desperately trying to find its way in and out of my
mouth. "You are so deeply, insanely, completely..." he inched closer
to my face, cocking his head to the side so that his lips closed the gap into
mine, "in love with me." I stopped breathing. "And yet you keep
coming back." He kissed me once. "And kicking me out." He kissed
me again. "And making love to me." I closed my eyes as his tongue
licked over my bottom lip, tasting me. "And hating me." He tilted his
head to the other side. "And then you do it all over again." His lips
closed over mine and I could feel his warm breath cascading onto my skin.
"And I keep letting you do this to me Layla." My mouth automatically
opened up to his for more, as I had done so many times. But he pulled away ever
so slightly, taunting me. "But not this time."

My eyes opened and my mouth closed. I
looked at him. He stared at me. "What?" I asked, confused by the
flip.

Nick's hands moved under my shirt, slowly
ascending over my skin to my shoulder blades. "I'm not going to fight you
any longer Layla. This was the last time. You told me to leave..." His
fingers
traveled
around my body, under my arms and to
the sides of my chest. "So I'm leaving. And this time..." I moaned
softly, painfully as his hands cupped my covered skin, squeezing ever so
tenderly. "I'm not coming back." He put his lips on mine again and
spoke words I never thought I'd hear him speak. "And neither are you. Not
until," He bit down on my lip, "you stop playing these games."

"How do you know it's entirely me
playing the game?" I asked into his lips.

"Because I'm the only one in this
relationship that realizes just what we have," he said, leaning back to
look into my eyes once again.

"And what's that?"

"A future. And when you realize it
Layla.... When that little light bulb clicks on in that head of yours, you know
where to reach me."

"So that's it?" I asked, feeling
anger swelling in every atom of my body.

"It's what you asked for."

"You son of a bitch."

"I know. And now this son of a bitch
is going to do exactly what his wife wants. Goodbye, Layla." He removed
his hands from my body and stood up, towering high above me.

I stood up and blocked his exit. "Are
you seriously turning this around on me?"

Nick's face remained unchanged. "Yep.
Isn't this what you expected your son of a bitch husband to do?"

Of course not! God Nick you just. UGH!
"I should divorce you right now," I said through gritted teeth.

Nick reached into his back pocket and
pulled out his cell phone. He handed it out to me. "Don't you have the
number memorized?"

I looked at Nick. And then the phone. And
back at Nick again.

Nick nodded his head. "That's what I
thought. Like I said, when you finally wake up and realize you love me, you
know where I'll be."

"At your bitch's house?" I spit
back at him.

Nick slid his left hand into his pocket and
pulled out his wedding band. He slid it onto his finger and reached out for the
door, but not before taking one last look at me. "I meant what I said that
day. Until the day I die. I'm yours. And you're mine." And with that, he left.

"Is it true that you and your husband,
Nick Hudson, have separated, merely weeks after publicly announcing that you
two have been secretly married for a year and the equally shocking allegations
that a woman is pregnant by Nick?"

I looked at the interviewer without trying
to show the emotion change on my face. This was my first interview without
Nick. I wasn’t expecting it. Not really. I wasn’t the star. Nick’s the star.
But now they’re interested in me.

"Nick and I have not legally
separated. But we are spending some time apart from each other." No use in
lying. I have had enough of the lies. "Nick’s in New York doing some work
on his next album and I’m working on a novel."

"About your relationship with
Nick?"

Right. Because I want to capitalize on his
fame and make the whole world feel sorry for me. Sure. "No. I’ve been
wanting to do some writing for a while and now I have the opportunity to do
so."

"Has a paternity test been done
yet?"

"That’s all being taken care of."
I was counting down the weeks. Only six more to go.

"How do you feel about Nick being a
father to another woman’s baby?"

I’m jumping with joy. Can’t you tell?
"I’m not pleased with it, but what can I do? I love my husband and I’m
going to support him one hundred percent."

"The gossip blogs have been running
rampant with rumors that you and Nick are no longer together. Care to comment?"

It was a mistake doing the interview. It
was no one’s business and we had the power to decline their requests. Now I
wish I had. "Nick has his career and it’s very important to me that he
focus all of his attention and efforts on his career."

"Do you talk to each other?"

"Every day." Well, okay that’s a
lie. Truth is, since Nick left two weeks ago, we’d been avoiding each other. If
we talked, it was into each other’s voice mail.

"How has your life changed since the
announcements?"

"I seem to be really popular all of a
sudden. People keep asking me for interviews left and right. That’s not really
my thing though. I’ve never had an appetite to be in the spotlight. I’d rather
just go on living my life and watching my husband be the star."

"Well thank you very much for the
interview Layla. We all appreciate it."

"Sure thing. Thank you for stopping
by."

Ten minutes later the reporter and her crew
were out of my house and I could finally breathe.

Two long weeks without Nick and everything
he said that last night kept repeating over and over in my head.
Until the
day we die. I’m his. And he’s mine
.

I’d never thought of it that way.
Possession. Ownership. Nick is mine. I’m Nick’s. It was too surreal. We’re not
property. We’re married. We’ve pledged our lives to each other.

Good job we’d done of it.

Nick wasn’t the only messed up one in the
relationship. I had just as much responsibility in that department. We need to
work things out. Truth be told I was feeling his absence. I wanted him back.

I picked up the portable phone and just
stared at it. I don’t know why, but I was nervous about calling him.

He’s mine. I’m his.

Call him Layla. Just turn on the phone and
dial his cell phone. And I was about to, when the phone rang.

I stared at the ringing phone, eyes wide,
mouth tense. Was it him? Should I answer it?

"Hello?" I asked nervously.

"Hey." It was Nick.

"Hey."

"What are you doing?"

"Nothing. What are you doing?" I
twirled a strand of my hair around my fingers.
I’m his. He’s mine
. Too
surreal.

"Nothing."

"Where are you?"

Nick sighed into the phone. "New York.
Recording. On a break."

"Are you getting much done?"

"Kinda."

"Kinda?"

"I don’t know, Lay. I’m just not into
it."

"I don’t believe you."

There was a long pause on his end. My
finger stopped twirling. "I don’t know."

"Nick."

"Layla."

"Nick..." I sighed. "I... I
miss you."

"I miss you too, baby."

"You do?"

"Yeah. I think that’s why I can’t
work. I’ve been thinking about you."

"Not in a bad way I hope."

"Kinda."

"Kinda?" Was this a good thing?

" I wish we were on better
terms."

It was my turn to pause. "So do
I."

"I was writing this song and... I
don’t know. I just couldn’t put my heart in it."

"Is there something I can do to
help?" I laid back on the couch and listened to the sound of Nick
breathing through the phone. But he didn’t say anything. "Nick?"

"I’m here."

"Sing it to me."

"What?"

"Sing me the song you’re working
on."

"I can’t."

"Why? Are you shy?" I chuckled to
myself. Since when is Nick shy of singing?

"Not shy. Just nervous." At least
I wasn’t the only one.

"Come on Nick. I’ll tell you if you
sound bad."

"Thanks," he chuckled.

"Hey Nick?"

"Yeah Lay?"

"I’ve been thinking about you."

"I’ve been thinking about you
too."

I turned my head and picked up our framed
wedding portrait. "Remember the day we got married?"

"No. When was that again?"

"Jerk."

"Of course I remember. Our anniversary
is in a week."

"Yep. One year."

"You were so nervous."

"No I wasn’t," I denied. But I
remember it exactly. I’d never been so happy and nervous at the same time in my
life.

"Yes you were. I could see it in your
eyes."

"Well if I was nervous I had good
reason."

"Do you regret it?"

"What, marrying you?"

"Yeah."

"No. Do you?"

"Never."

"Good."

"Yeah." Another long pause.

"So sing me your song."

"It’s not ready."

"I don’t care."

"I care."

"Since when?"

"Since always. Your opinion means a
lot to me."

"There’s no possible way you can write
anything bad. Not when it comes from your heart."

"You think so?"

"I know so. Start singing."

"It’s really rough."

"Well you know that’s how I like
it."

When I heard him laugh on the other side,it
made me feel better. This was going better. We were talking. It’s something at
least.

"Yeah. What are you wearing?"

"
Seriously
?" The man
didn’t have an off switch.

"No. Come on tell me. I’m
lonely."

My heart flipped. "You’re
lonely?"

"Yeah Lay. I wish you were here."

"Oh." I didn’t know what else to
say. If he was lonely.... He’s not cheating?

"No, I’m not cheating."

What the fuck? "I didn’t say
that."

"You were thinking it."

"No I wasn’t."

"Don’t lie. So help out a lonely man.
What are you wearing?"

I looked down at my outfit. Nothing
exciting. "Clothes."