R. Griffin - Seamless

“Thanks for the ride.” Stella was barely able to articulate words as he pulled up in front of the house. “You have my number, but officially go through my attorney.”

“Stella, honestly, I’m really sorry.”

She nodded, numb. Oh, please bring on the numb. She stood there dazedly, watching his lights disappearing into the night.

“El. Come on, let’s get inside,” Millie coaxed softly.

Stella’s feet began moving toward the door, then she realized she left her purse. “Fuck. I left everything; my keys…” her voice broke.

“I got your purse.” Millie thought enough to grab a bag for herself and Stella’s purse before they left. She handed Stella the keys and they walked into the quiet house. It was quite a change from the bustling bodies and blue lights they’d just left at Millie’s.

Once inside, all three of them stood in the den for a full minute, not knowing what to do, not looking at each other. Cooper eventually walked into the kitchen to get water. Stella sighed and looked at Millie.

“I’m sorry, Mil.” Her voice was low and rough, fighting to keep emotion out of it.

Millie took a few steps and closed the gap between them, standing a few inches from Stella and grabbing her hands. “Don’t you ever be fucking sorry for that psycho bastard.”

“I didn’t want you to have to deal with any of this. I just can’t seem to free myself of the crazy. Why?”

Millie shook her head full of pity. “I don’t know, but I’m pretty sure you’re done having to deal with that crazy.”

“I’m going to get in the shower and wash my ex-fiancé off my face.” She laughed hysterically for a few seconds. “Who the fuck has ever had to say those words?”

“You’ll be okay, El,” Millie comforted.

“I don’t think so, Mil. Not this time.” They started up the stairs, Cooper following them closely. “The sheets are clean. Make yourself at home.”

“El, I love you,” Millie said as she walked in the guest room and closed the door.

Stella slowly undressed and stood in the bathroom, staring at herself in the mirror. Shock kept the feelings and emotions at bay; she had cried, but it was that detached crying that came with life-changing events. She turned the shower on as hot as it could get and closed the glass door behind her. Stella stood in the shower silently, letting all the blood, wine, and pieces of Jamie wash down the drain. She felt pieces of herself break off and flow away with the blood; the hope she’d had the last few weeks dropped into the drain. The wholeness she’d felt a few weeks ago, filled with the love she felt for George, disappeared along with the blood, the water washing it out into the sewer.

Getting out of the shower, she grabbed a towel and wrapped it around herself, then wandered around the room and bathroom, packing a small bag. She threw jeans, shirts, underwear and bathing suits in her bag, making sure she grabbed her Wonder Woman shoes from Key West. She opened her medicine cabinet, hoping she’d just misplaced the remainder of her stomach medicine. The pill bottle in the cabinet was empty. Fuck. She dressed quickly and put Patrick’s hoodie back on; it comforted her for some reason. She shoved her feet in her running shoes and motioned for Cooper to go downstairs.

Looking in at Millie, she shed one more silent tear. Stella quietly wrote a note hoping that Millie wouldn’t worry too much when she woke up alone. She tiptoed in the room and put it on the bed next to her friend. Her head was buzzing with panic; she couldn’t be here when the media started clambering for pictures of her as a broken, devastated mess. She needed to leave. Now.

Stella padded down the stairs with her bag and Cooper’s things, put everything in the car, and walked, almost zombie-like, back inside. She stopped and leaned onto the bar, bracing herself for what she was about to do. Easing her ring off her finger, her eyes caught on her tattoo. Only you. Stella gave the ring one more glance before she laid it on a piece of paper that basically said, “I love you, that’s why I can’t stay.”

Cooper ran all around her, making sure she didn’t leave him. She petted his head as she locked up the house and opened the passenger door for him. “See, Coop, I’m not leaving you.” Her voice was low and full of sobs she was trying to hold back.

Stella sank into the seat of her car and cried. This was it. This had broken her for good. She wasn’t fit to be around George. She wasn’t fit to be around anyone—she’d almost gotten Millie hurt by association. She didn’t even know how to be normal any more. She knew she wouldn’t be able to do her job. Jamie was dead and it was her fault. It was his fault, too, of course, but to have the death of someone literally on her was something she just wasn’t prepared for and she didn’t think it was something she could ever come back from. Stella came to grips with the fact that she was losing everything, just like she always knew she would.

She opened the garage door and squeezed her eyes closed, attempting to gather resolve, then reversed out of the driveway. She drove automatically until she finally reached I-95. Taking the ramp onto the highway, she released a breath she’d been holding. George. Her mind was having a hard time reconciling what she was doing. Her conscience was telling her it was the wrong thing to do, that all George had ever done was love her, fissures and all, but she just couldn’t stay.

She drove for four hours until she’d just reached North Carolina. It was a little after three am when she spotted an Econo Lodge sign and took the exit, pulling the car into the parking lot off the side of the office. She walked in and asked if there were vacancies. The older gentleman behind the desk eyed her warily.

“Yep,” he told her, “be $69.99 plus tax for the night.”

Stella pulled out money from her purse, handed it to the man, and waited for her key. She had to go back to her car and drive around to the back side of the motel where her room was located. “Come on, Coop.”

Stella looked around, feeling unsafe, and then forced herself to relax. No one knew she was here. Hell, she’d just decided to stop at this place ten minutes ago, and she had Cooper. He’d protect her. They entered the room and she didn’t even take in the smell of cigarettes or the dirty towel hanging from the counter in the bathroom; she simply collapsed on top of the bed, a bed she typically would be mortified to even touch. Cooper jumped up next to her and put his head on her belly. They slept.

As Millie disconnected the phone, George just stood in his hotel room and looked at the phone in disbelief. He could never protect her. I’m going to lose her again. He got online and started trying to get flights out of Iowa, where Senator Ashby had again returned to campaign. He couldn’t find a flight online so he called the airline. Stella was currently unconscious and being examined at Patrick’s house. Millie had said she’d keep him updated. He finally got through and lined up an 8:00 am flight and started packing.

Restless, he called Kara, frustrated when it went straight to voicemail and he had to leave her a message. Hopefully she’d be able to pick him up from Dulles while Finn was in school.

George paced. He couldn’t sleep. He would’ve normally had a drink, but he was worried he wouldn’t wake up for his early flight. He’d called his boss and let him know he was running back to DC for a day or two. He paced some more. Most of all, he tried to convince himself it would be okay; she would be okay, they would be okay. He had a nagging worry in his mind that it wouldn’t be okay and that the best thing that could happen to them, Jamie gone, would be their undoing.

He’d already left Stella a voicemail and a text for her to call him, to please let him know she was okay. Now all he could do was wait. It was torture to endure it, torture knowing she was hurting and he could do nothing.

* * *

George’s knee was shaking the two joined together seats on his flight back to DC. He was anxiously waiting for takeoff when he got a text from Millie.

El’s okay, but she’s gone

I’d call you but I’m crying

She left me at your place in the middle of the night

I’ve called Patrick

George sucked in a breath. He was right. She left him. He replied.

What do you mean she’s gone?

Millie responded immediately.

She left me a note

George hung his head.

What kind of note

Thank goodness Millie was an attentive texter.

A sad one

I’ll talk to you when you get here

She loves you

The flight attendant came by and told him to turn his phone off. Fuck.

It was the longest flight of his life and sitting on the tram that moved him from his gate to the main terminal almost made him lose his shit. He’d talked to Patrick, Jesse, and Kara, but Stella still wasn’t answering her phone. Patrick was trying to get a flight from Atlanta to DC today and Jesse said if Patrick couldn’t get one, he’d fly him up to DC himself. He sent her text after text. It made him feel better, because he knew she would get them eventually, and he didn’t trust his voice for Voxer. He just wished she would reply.

Love please answer my calls

Let me know you’re ok

Please

Where are you

When he exited the terminal, Kara was there in her Lexus SUV, waiting for him with a pained expression on her face. He threw his bag into the back and got in the passenger seat.

She leaned in and kissed his cheek. “I’m so sorry, Will.”

“Just get me home.” George called Stella’s number again. “El, please,” his voice cracked, “please don’t do this.”

His sister grabbed his hand. “We can make it through anything. Remember that.”

He wiped a tear from his face and stared out the window. Kara left him alone and turned up the radio. She started to get out when she parked in George’s driveway.

“Thank you, Kara, but I need to be by myself.”

“Will, I think I should come in and make sure you’re okay.”

George shook his head. “No.”

“Will, let me help you,” Kara implored. “There are pictures of her driving away from here in the middle of the night. I think she’s gone.”

“No.” George turned and walked to his front door. He waved without looking back at his sister.

He walked through the foyer and smelled her; her coconut scent lingered everywhere. He set his bag down and took in the den, then the kitchen. His eyes stopped on the piece of paper on the breakfast bar. The ring he’d given her was sitting on top of the paper and he felt his heart rip out of his chest. He’d been in plenty of fights in his life, but he’d never felt pain like this. He picked up the barstool and threw it across the room. He looked at his phone, willing Stella to call him. It was 10:00 am. Where was she? Was she okay? Was she coming back? He called Millie.

“Have you heard from her?” George asked as soon as Millie answered.

“No,” she responded softly. “George, I’m so sorry. You should’ve seen what happened last night. I think she just needed time to think.” Millie sighed. “Do you want to come by?”

“No. I’m going to find her,” he answered, resolved.

“I… I think Patrick is trying to find her, too. He told me last night he was headed back here, but I just got a text that he’s following a hunch.”

“A hunch?” George paced back and forth. “What kind of hunch?”

“That’s all the text says and he won’t answer when I call him.” Millie cleared her throat.

“Mil, she has to come back. I can’t—” George’s voice broke.

“George, she’ll come back. I know her. She loves you. I can’t imagine she would just leave everything.”

“Yes, she would. She has the only thing she wouldn’t leave behind; she doesn’t give a shit about anything else.” His head fell forward, hanging by his neck. “I have to go. I have to try to find her somehow. I can’t just stay here.”

“Where are you going to go, George? What if she comes back and you’re gone? No one has heard from her. Have you talked to her dad?”