Away From the Spotlight (58 page)

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Authors: Tamara Carlisle

BOOK: Away From the Spotlight
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"This is all a misunderstanding.  I'm sure it will get cleared up. 
You'll
see."
Gemma tried to appear cheerful.

I was silent as they
attempted
to change the subject to get my mind off of things.  They started to tell stories about the wacky director they were working with, but it didn't help much.  My mind was still too occupied with whether there was any way that this couldn't be happening to me.

Stephen returned after a while and didn't look too happy.
Kate asked him what was wrong and regretted it when she realized what he had just done.
 
He wouldn't respond.

"You just talked to Will, didn't you?" I asked somberly.

"Yes."  He looked down like he didn't want to volunteer any further information.

"And?"
I
asked
, hopeful, but knowing that nothing could have changed in the last fifteen minutes or so.

“I tried to talk him out of it, told him he was acting crazy, but he said that he loved you too much to continue to hurt you.”

“Doesn’t he realize that he’s hurting me far more by doing this?”  Tears fell uncontrollably from my eyes.

“For some
reason, he seems to think the opposite.  He thinks he’s doing the right thing by you.”

“He’s
wrong
.”

“I know. 
H
e’ll come around.  Stay with us and maybe we can help you figure this out.”

“I don’t think he’d want me to be here.”

“Don’t worry about that
,

Stephen said and patted my arm.

They turned on a light
comedy to try and cheer me up when
they realized that talking about things was only going to make me feel worse.  I couldn’t tell you the name of th
e film or what it was about,
caught up in my thoughts
as
I was.
 
I feigned sleepiness when it was over and headed to the bedroom.  They said their goodnights and told me that they would see m
e
t
he next
morning
.

Not for long
.
 
I returned to Will’s room for the last night.

Up all night, I thought about what I had to do.  I couldn’t very well stay in his house with his friends.  It was too painful.  I would need to rip off the band-aid
so to speak
and leave immediately. 
Since I still had most of my stuff in storage, I didn’t have much to pack.  By the time I heard stirring in the
family
room in the morning, I was packed,
showered and
dressed
,
and ready to go
to work
.
  I left the dresses from England in their garment bags in the closet along with the shoes and purses.  I made sure that there was little trace that I had been there other than the fact that there were empty drawers and closet s
pace where my things had been.

It was Stephen
who
was up when I walked into the living room, carrying my bags.  He was astonished to see that I was leaving.

“Don’t go, Shannon.  I told you we would figure something out. 
Will can’t be that foolish
for long.”

“I don’t think I could bear to be here without him and knowing that I’m going to have to leave sooner or later.  Better it be sooner.”

“I’m sorry and I understand.”
  Stephen frowned.

“I have a few things for you to keep safe and return to Will.”  I handed Stephen my engagement ring, my diamond necklace
,
and the diamond earrings.

“I’m sure he didn’t intend for you to return these things.”

“What am I going to do with them?  I’m not engaged anymore and to wear any of this will only serve as a painful reminder.”

Stephen nodded in understanding and took the items.  He gave me a hug and walked me outside.

“You will continue to visit us, I hope.  You’re part of our little group now.”

“I will,” I lied and I think Stephen knew I was lying at that moment.  It would hurt too much for me to see them.  I was
even
sadder
as I
realiz
ed
that I was losing a lot more than just Will in this mess.  I was losing my way of life for the last
six
mont
hs and some very good friends.

Stephen hugged me after helping me load my trunk
in front of the audience outside the house
.  He smiled s
adly and wa
ved as I drove away through the crowd.

Chapter Forty-One

The paparazzi stopped following me almost immediately.  I don’t know whether it was because of something Will had done, the fact that I was no longer
living at Will’s house and
wearing my engagement ring, or both.  The partners in
my
firm breathed a sigh of relief as the chaos subsided.  I felt nothing, not even curiosity as to why I
finally
was being left alone.

I spent the first
two weeks or so
after leaving Will’s behaving
like
a zombie
.  I had no animation whatsoever.  I was numb.  I didn’t really cry.  My friends were worried about me, but when asked, I said that I wa
s
fine.
  They didn’t believe m
e, but they let it go for fear of upsetting me.

I moved around between friends’ apartments while I looked for a place
of my own
.  I didn’t want to be in anyone’s way.  I still had only
my
stuff from the summer and
Rachael
kept most of it for me, while I used an overnight b
ag as I moved around.

I
quickly
found
a newer one-bedroom apartment in West L.A. that would do to fit my furniture, my main criteria in an apartment other than relative location.  The apartment was part of
a ten-unit three-
story light
-
blue Cape-Cod looking building, where the first story was underground parking.  The entrance gate
was located
on the north side of the building
and
opened
i
nto
a
long walkway containing the doors or stairways to the
various
units.

It was
only
after my furniture arrived in my new place
and I realized that I was
completely
alone that the numbness started to wear off.  As I la
y
in my bed
in which
I hadn’t slept in months and hadn’t slept in alone for a few months before that, I realized that I was now truly alone.  On this first night
in my own place
, I cried for the first time since that awful night.  I started to feel
again
like I was in a black hole and I didn’t know
any
way out
of it
.

For the first time since Will and I broke up, I ached for sex and became angry that I was going to have to live
in the
S
exual Sahara
while
he
likely was out enjoying the field.  He would have a lot of opportunity.  I, with my ugly work schedule, would have little
opportunity
and, even if I did, I was too obviously broken to be of interest to anyone
,
much less any use to them if they were interested.

Out of morbid curiosity, I turned on my computer and performed a
n internet
search on

Will MacKenzie.

 
As usual, there were lots of hits.  I
t didn’t take me long to figure out wh
y I had been left alone.  There were
numerous
articles to the tune of “Will MacKenzie Single Again and Living the High Life.”  There were pictures of him looking cozy with at least a dozen different women, many of them actresses I sort of recognized.  These photographs reflected that he was really indulging again in the scene as they were taken in front of trendy clubs and restaurants
in New York
and Las Vegas
.  Will had a broad smile for the cameras as did the women
with him.  I felt sick.  No wonder I had been left alone by the paparazzi.  Th
e fact th
at I was ancient history was quite clear by Will’s behavior.

The black hole I was in
became
deeper and
darker.  I decided that it wouldn’t be a good idea for me to be alone like this.  For the next
several weeks
, when I wasn’t working a late night, my friends took me out in rotation
, avoiding any place that would remind me of Will
.  I had a schedule that made sure that I would never spend another
evening
alone in my apartment with my thoughts
.  Notwithstanding,
I was never really able to climb out of th
at
black hole
.  The absence of color in my life remained
.

Some of my friends took me out to bars and clubs, hoping to help me meet someone else.  I was set up on a few dates.  Nothing came of any of it.  As I had seemed more attractive when I was in love, I was the opposite now, a wounded animal that was neither attractive nor a lot of fun to be around.  It was an interesting paradox that the more I needed someone to fill the massive gaping hole that Will had left, the less likely it was going to happen.
  I felt unattractive and unlov
able
,
and my depression deepened.

Of course,
I
now
knew with absolute certainty
that Will was not sitting home alone. 
Of course
, he
wo
n’t
be feeling lonely. 
I started to get angry at the injustice of it all.
 
He breaks
my
heart, and I’m the one who goes home alone every night
!

I
believe that
John was hopeful that I would turn to him, but I did
not

John tried to give me every opportunity
at first
, offering a listening ea
r a
nd hugging me when I cried.  I was not up for a relationship and he was too good a friend for me to use him.  Besides, after all the drama in the relationship between Will and me, I didn’t want the drama of an office romance, which would be seriously frowned upon by the partners in the firm.  I had already had enough trouble with them when I started as it was.

Not long after my break-up
with Will
,
I
attended
a
Dodger play-off
game with Max, Daniel and John.  I
was even more miserable than the
last time I had gone to a game with
them early on in my relationship with Will.

I sat flanked by John and Daniel with Max on the other side of Daniel
in the loge seats just beyond first base
.  I had my arms folded in front of me whenever I wasn’t holding my beer, thinking about that other
game
.  The difference was that my
un
happiness then was only the result of a misunderstanding. 
Not this time.  This time, Will and I really
are
over.
  I wouldn’t go home to calls and texts from Will.  I wouldn’
t be seeing Will the next night and probably not ever again.  My mood was sullen
and t
he guys’ efforts
to cheer me were useless as a result.

John
sat as close to me as he could, considering the seats
,
almost leaning into my seat,
and
was
definitely violating my personal space.  He m
ade
a few attempts to hold my hand, but I
was a little too quick for him and he settled for rubbing my left thigh from time-to-time.
 
Stopping him
from doing th
at
would have led to either
hand-
holding or causing a scene
,
so I did nothing. 
I could see that both Max and Daniel were watching
us
intently, probably curious
as
to
what would happen
.  I suspected that they had mixed feelings about this, wanting John to be happy and me as well, but also thinking that an office romance was a
really
bad idea.

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