R. Griffin - Seamless

“Patrick,” Stella blew her bangs out of her eyes, “I’ll never be able to thank you enough.” And Jesse. And her father. Good God, her father helped. How will I ever thank them?

“Sure you can, El.” Patrick took off his sunglasses and looked into her eyes, his cold blue eyes losing their edge, softening as he leaned in and nuzzled her neck. “You have to.”

“How?” She could never repay him. She’d never forgive herself for dragging him into this. Her insides started to curl and fester. She hung her head and sighed, wiping away the circle she’d drawn in the sand.

Patrick must’ve been able to see her shutting down. “Don’t,” he said, pulling her hand in his. “Come back with me. Let him go. That’s why we did all this—so you can move on, El.”

She looked out as the waves crashed and Cooper dove into the surf. “I don’t know if I can,” she whispered.

“Fuck, El,” Patrick swore, exasperated, throwing her hand down as if it were on fire. “If it’s George you want, go back to George. Just live your fucking life. If you don’t, all of this was for nothing. That, I won’t forgive you for.”

Stella was driving back to Old Town after staying one extra night in North Carolina without Patrick. He’d left her at the house yesterday, telling her to come back to him, assuring her that he’d be waiting. He had pulled her into him and whispered in her ear, “You’re my person.” She’d kissed him tenderly; he’d urged her mouth open and what she’d intended to be a soft goodbye kiss turned hotter and full of need. He’d left her panting and stalked off to his car without another word.

She pulled her phone out and tapped her dad’s number.

“Dad?”

“Baby?” His voice was full of concern. “Are you okay?”

“For now. I’m headed back to DC; I’ve gotta go to the FBI office for additional interviews.” She pulled out onto 95 North and headed toward a big decision. “Dad,” she sighed audibly, “I’m really confused.”

“About what?”

“The better question would be what am I not confused about…” She chuckled. “But I was wondering if you can be in love with two people.”

“I don’t know, Stella. Maybe.” He cleared his throat. “Why?”

“I was just asking,” she lied. Liar.

“Did something happen with Patrick?” Her dad read her like a book.

“Oh, Dad!” she sobbed. “He told me he loved me! During all this shit, he told me he loved me.”

“Well, I’m not too surprised by that, are you?” His tone wasn’t judgmental, but matter of fact.

“Yes!” She shook her head. “Completely.”

“Well, then you’re pretty good at ignoring the obvious.”

“What do you mean?”

“Stella, men don’t do what he did for just any woman…”

“But he’s my best friend,” she interrupted.

“That’s a pretty good foundation for love.”

“Ugh, Dad. You’re confusing me even more.” She pushed her sunglasses up her nose. “After he told me all that, he said that we could still be friends and if I wanted to go back to George, it would be fine. I don’t know what to think about anything. Millie broke up with him and he talked to me honestly for one day, then it was like he pretended it never happened.”

“Well, I don’t know what he’s thinking, but I do know he may have thought it didn’t matter what he said or did, that you’d go back to George regardless. Is that what you’re planning on doing?”

“I don’t know, Dad.” She gazed at the lines on the road. “I think I love them both.”

“Well, I’ll impart this little bit of advice. If you do go back to George, never tell him what happened, Stella. Never. It won’t end well.”

“Well, I could’ve told you that.”

* * *

She kept telling herself she was making the right decision. Thoughts of the past week reverberated in her head, nonstop. Emotions swirled through her, around her, tangled like a kite’s string in a blistering wind. Patrick assured her he was fine with her going back to George; he basically convinced her to go back to George. Did that mean Patrick didn’t want her? How was she supposed to respond to that?

The day he left, she and Cooper had stayed on the beach all day, trying to make a decision, to convince herself one way or the other. There was never any doubt in her mind before Patrick had confessed his love to her, but now she had to consider what that meant to her. On one hand, she couldn’t believe they’d actually slept together, but on the other, it wasn’t a huge surprise. Their bodies were naturally in tune with one another. There was no awkwardness it was as if they’d been together for years. She sighed. You only see what you want to see, and for years she’d wanted to see a supportive best friend that was willing to do anything for her. A constant slideshow of the last several years played in her head. George had been there for her and his love never wavered, but Patrick was her person, her solid. He was her rock, the one she always turned to no matter what happened. That was love, too.

She turned up the radio and hummed along with The Band Perry, letting her mind drift to a fantasy where everything worked out for her. She casually stroked the fur on Cooper’s back as she thought of this dream world where everything was perfect and sunshine, rainbows and unicorns. She wanted unicorns.

The song ended and the broadcaster came on with news. Hearing her name shook her from her reverie. Her whereabouts were news again. That’s great. Apparently, the story about ATF Agent Jack Ryder being shot at “Stella’s former home” while Stella and her best friend watched a movie was all over the news. This didn’t surprise her, but she’d sheltered herself from TV, radio, and internet for the past few days and didn’t know if she was prepared for the onslaught of questions. She’d been texting with Greg and simply directed him to handle it. Emotionally, she was done and couldn’t fathom making any sort of statements right now.

She had a big decision to make and she was the queen of dreadful decisions.

* * *

She pulled the Challenger in front of the house and cut the engine. She closed her eyes and counted to 18, trying not to think of the last time she was at this house. Jamie. Stella tried not to picture Jamie’s head exploding. She didn’t know if she could even go in the house now. Opening the car door, she stepped into the driveway and Cooper jumped out. Breathe. Cooper ran to the closest bush while she stared up at the door. As if he could sense her presence, the door opened and those blue eyes stared at her, full of life. Full of hope.

“El…” It was a moan.

Oh shit. Stella moved slowly and Cooper followed, bounding up the stairs to where Patrick stood, his hands shoved in his pockets. She walked up the stairs staring at her feet. She felt strong arms encircle her and pull her into his body. Stella released a breath and shook her way free from his grip. He let her take a step back from him, but framed her face with his hands and leaned into her, kissing her. Stella shook her head imperceptibly and Patrick stilled. He stepped back and his gaze searched hers.

“El?” His eyes grew cold as she stood there, frozen, unable to tell her best friend she wasn’t staying with him. He grasped her hands in his with a death grip.

“I can’t,” she barely whispered.

“What?” he croaked, his eyes boring into hers.

“I’m going to George’s.” She broke off eye contact and looked at Cooper, who was standing in between them, smiling his doggie smile, waiting for someone to pet him.

Silence.

A tear slipped from her eye.

“Tell me you don’t love me.” His voice shook with emotion she’d never heard from him before.

Stella continued to stare down, avoiding his piercing gaze. She didn’t want to see his eyes when he realized she wasn’t coming to be with him.

“Fucking look at me!” His voice rose. “El!”

Stella shook her head no and began backing away from him, pulling her hands away as she walked.

“Oh, you think I’m going to make it that easy? Just let you come here and say ‘I can’t’? Tell me you don’t love me, El.” Patrick jerked her forward, causing her body to crash into his. “TELL ME!” He dropped to his knees to meet her downward gaze. “Look at me and fucking tell me you don’t feel it. Feel this thing, this pull between me and you. I love you, El, and I’m pretty fucking sure you love me too.”

Another tear fell from her as she tried to remember what she’d come here to tell him. “I-I can’t,” she stammered.

“You can’t what?” His voice shook with indignation.

Stella was shaking her head rapidly. Please don’t make me say it. Please.

“You can’t what?!” He was yelling now. “El. You can’t what?!”

Stella finally looked into those blue eyes that had always been there for her. Her hand ached to touch him, cradle his head in her hands, but she couldn’t. She knew once she touched him she’d lose her resolve. She owed him the truth. “I can’t tell you that I don’t love you, Patrick.”

“Then come home. Come to our room. I already bought a new bed and new sheets.” He put his palms on her hips; it felt intimate and she exhaled shakily.

“Patrick, I love George too.”

Patrick’s head dropped and his shoulders slumped. “Please, El, don’t do this.”

“I do love you,” she whispered. She took a step back and Patrick grabbed her by the back of her thighs and roughly pulled her to him, his face buried in her stomach. Stella looked around for any cameras, panicked. It would kill her if this was caught by someone and plastered all over the internet.

“Stay with me…love me…trust me,” he almost sobbed into her. “El, please…”

Stella’s resolve broke and tears flooded down her face. She lowered herself to her knees too, so they were face to face. She began shaking with sorrow, with a grief that she didn’t know she could feel. Stella hadn’t anticipated that this conversation would alter her this way; maybe it was because it was Patrick, her person, her rock, and she was losing him. “You told me nothing would change, Patrick,” she said, her words quivering with emotion. “You better not have lied to me again.”

Patrick shook his head in disbelief. She gently put both of her hands on the back of his head and sighed, letting the tears flow. Realizing what she was close to doing, she froze and began to frantically untangle herself from him.

“I have to go.” She practically ran down to her car. “Cooper!” she yelled and he came running, jumping into the car. Tears began to fall full force as she pulled away from the curb. When she glanced back in the rearview mirror, Patrick was still on his knees, his head in his hands. Fuck.

She turned onto her street with every intention of pulling into the driveway and begging George to take her back, but there were reporters camped out in the park and she simply drove past. Patrick’s face was embedded in her mind now. She sobbed uncontrollably and blindly grabbed her phone, taking the first left she could and pulling over.

“Hey, bitch,” Millie answered.

“Millie,” Stella’s voice caught, “can we stay with you?”

Silence.

“Please.” Stella wasn’t above begging.

When Millie spoke, her voice was reserved. “Of course, El. Come on over.”

“Be there in five.”

Millie had texted her new address to Stella while she was still in North Carolina; she had moved about five miles closer to DC to an area called Del Ray. Stella was moving on autopilot, thankful for turn-by-turn navigation. She pulled into the parking lot of the condos and saw Millie standing on the sidewalk waiting for her.

Stella opened her door and Cooper jumped through it, running up to Millie, who stood on the sidewalk in grey sweatpants and her American Law sweatshirt, her hair piled on her head. She had no makeup on and had clearly pulled on Ugg boots solely to come meet Stella.

“Hey, boy,” Millie said, her voice full of sadness.

Stella and Millie embraced without saying anything.

“I’m sorry,” Stella whispered, still not trusting her voice.

“I’m sorry for your fucked up life.”

“I’m glad we’re both sorry; the two of us living together should be fun.”

Millie cocked her head to the side in a question. “Why are you staying with me, El?” she asked conversationally, putting her arm through Stella’s as they walked to her condo.