Chapter Eighteen
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His world seemed to be colder when she wasn’t there. It was as if her absence in his life casted him into a deep dark abyss of misery and despair that he couldn’t climb out of on his own. Even if he wanted to he couldn’t blame her, for he alone had banished himself to this place of darkness. He had walked away from what was arguably the best damn thing that had ever happened to him, leaving her on that beautiful picturesque beach to search for better things he was sure didn’t even exist. Simon couldn’t explain to anyone why he had walked away, leaving his friends and family behind to catch a plane to London, he couldn’t put into words his reasons because he himself wasn’t sure what they were. Until he could explain them to himself he wasn’t going to try and explain to anyone, not that Simon had ever once been the type to explain his actions. With each call to Paula that she wouldn’t accept, each unanswered text and voicemail, he was starting to wonder if maybe he needed to do something, maybe he would need to explain to her.
He started to send her flowers, only to be told by Ryan to stop.
“She doesn’t want your fucking flowers Cowell. She doesn’t want anything to do with you actually.”
Ryan hung up the phone after that, their friendship never the same. It seemed, in a way that when Simon had left Paula standing at the altar, alone, he had left Ryan as well. Everyone in America seemed to be offended by him, his so called friends being the worst of it. So much so that he was dreading flying back to L.A., but Nigel insisted that their contracts were binding and that both he and Paula would have to attended every meeting and show or they would have to face the network.
Simon had never dreaded flying to America, not once, ever. He use to think of it as his home, just as much as England was home, but now it seemed no closer to him than any other foreign land he’d never been to. But Simon dreaded nothing more than walking into the productions office for their first pre – audition interview. He’d gone through three fourths a pack of cigarettes on the drive alone, and now was standing in front of the building finishing off the one pressed between his lips.
And then there she was. A vision in red, walking towards him, surprisingly a cigarette perched in her mouth as well. Simon’s body was overtaken by the nervousness he was sure to feel seeing her for the first time, in a long time. He didn’t know what he should say, or if he should say anything at all. With Jimmy by her side, along with other people, it didn’t seem right. So there he stood his back against the wall of the building, as Jimmy opened the door for her and she walked inside.
Simon felt defeated inside, like a coward he’d never been before. Tossing his smoldering butt to the side he followed them inside. He could see them waiting for the elevator, oblivious that he was right behind them.
“He’s a fucking prick darling. You’re better off without him.” Jimmy said.
“Shut up Jimmy.”
Simon couldn’t help but smile at her words, her lovely feisty words. It was a weak smile, but a smile nonetheless.
The familiar tone of the elevator sounded and the doors opened. Everyone walked ahead of her eager to board the elevator, but Paula stood her ground.
“Paula, are you coming?” Jimmy questioned.
“No. Go ahead. I need another cigarette.”
No one questioned her, though the same thing was running through all of their minds, she was waiting for him, actually wanting to speak to him, even after everything. With one disapproving look from Jimmy, the elevator doors closed. Paula placed a cigarette in her mouth and began digging around in her purse for a lighter.
“Light?” He offered.
Paula looked up, looking at him for the first time in months. Her eyes were hidden by her Dior sunglasses, but he could feel her looking at him, taking him in like the air she needed to live.
“Sure.”
They walked outside together, smoking rising behind them, and both were nervous, but silent.
After a few minutes of standing together in silence, Simon spoke.
“I didn’t mean to hurt you, Paw-la”
She smiled. His accent was thicker, which meant he’d spent their time apart in London. She had wondered where he was, she hadn’t seen him around L.A. She didn’t want to admit to him that he hurt her or that she had missed him so much that it made her cry on a daily basis. He had here hurt.
“It’s fine Si.”
Her voice was filled with endearment.
Her.
Simon hated how his actions seemed to harden her, causing her to become this thick skinned doubtful person.
“Is it?”
“We have to work together, I can’t afford to not work, so let’s just forget about it.”
These were not the words he wanted to hear, but for now they would have to do. He wasn’t about to throw what little nice words she was offering.
Walking into the elevator, Paula reached out and took his hand in hers.
They both knew that everything wasn’t okay, but that maybe, someday, somehow, it might be.
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