Someone Out There Loves You

*Chloe POV*

“I’m so sorry, Michael.”

“Hey, don’t worry about it, Chloe. It’s our quiet season, anyhow.I think we can survive a couple of days without you. Take the time you need, and get yourself better. You can make it up when you get back.”

It was so hard not to cry at the caring, almost soothing, tone to my boss’ voice. He had a deep voice, almost like Alan Rickman, or Jeremy Irons. It was the kind of voice you would happily listen to, no matter what they were talking about. Michael could be reading the phone book, and I truly wouldn’t mind; it was just so peaceful and relaxing to listen to. It was so different from Gerard’s more feminine voice, which was higher in pitch, and way more expressive in tone. Michael was quit monotone; Gerard was anything but. His voice went that little bit higher when he was excited, and when he was tired, he would take more time with his words, each syllable slipping from his mouth with concentrated effort. First thing in the morning, his voice would be hoarse, and a little croaky, which would make me smile with the adorableness of it. Then he would smile when he caught me staring, making me blush, even after all the months we had been together.

I hung up, thoughts of Gerard in my mind, as he had been over the last two days. It had been two long days, the hours and minutes endless since he had walked out. I had left him one voicemail; the ball had been left in his court after that. I may have made a mistake by throwing accusations made in jealousy, but I wasn’t about to stoop to previous levels of pathetic-ness, in an attempt to get someone back.

I had been down that road before, many years ago. I had cried, begged, and pleaded, for someone not to leave me. I had left voicemails, emails, text messages, which were all, unsurprisingly, ignored. Then, when I got desperate enough, I had even gone to his new apartment. Having his new girlfriend open the door, with a look of pity, mingled with disgust and anger, had been the wake up call. An epiphany, of sorts, if you will. I had already lost him long before our relationship had ended. So many things had been wrong before he called a halt to the doomed relationship. We were so different in fundamental ways, ways that we never could have surmounted in the years down the road. I had just been a fool enough to think we could gloss over them, ignore the obvious polarities in our opinions and ideas for the future, because, in my mind, love conquers all.

It’s a foolish notion, one that I had long forgotten about. For years, I lived an existence where I believed love was something only for weak, insecure people. Love was something I could do without, and I happily lived a life free of complications. At least, I thought I did. I truly believed I was content, living for work and my friends. It had been enough for so long, and I never thought it would change.

Then Gerard came along. With his charming smirk, his cocky arrogance, his overwhelming sex appeal and yes, his way-too-fucking-pretty face. The first night we met, it had changed something in me. I went from believing that I was happy alone, to suddenly seeing that maybe, just maybe, there could be someone out there that I could love. That maybe, someone out there could love me, too. Yes, I fought against it for a while. I let my defence mechanism take control, in order to protect myself. But even that couldn’t withstand the power of Gerard’s steely determination.

We’d been happy. So fucking happy, it was sickening. We had our own little bubble, our own little routine, and way of connecting. We grated on each other sometimes, and on more than one occasion, I wanted to murder him. But our better moments far outweighed the little clashes we had. Even if I was pissed off with him, I still wanted to cuddle up beside him on our couch, and watch some Battlestar Galactica, while gorging on pizza. It was mundane, but it was us. We were in our element in those moments; we were content to just be two big fucking dorks, as long as we were doing it together. Things weren’t perfect, but they were as close to perfect as anyone could ever attain.

Then, things came in the way. Things that were out of my control, like my temper, and my deep seated insecurity that had yet to dissipate, even when I was at my most secure. The ghost of my previous failures, and the remnants of Gerard’s less than glamorous past, made for one hell of a catastrophe waiting to happen. Perhaps my relationship with Gerard, just like my relationship with Rick, was doomed to fail, and I was just too naïve and in love to see it. Part of me, as I sat on my couch in my days old clothes, unshowered and unkempt as I wallowed in self pity, was berating myself, for allowing myself to believe that such an obviously doomed venture could work. That I could scrape together some semblance of normalcy and happiness, that I could ‘fix’ Gerard, and ignore his past, and the fact that he had screwed most of the socialites in New York. The other part of me - the stubborn, unrelenting, resilient, part of me - couldn’t truly believe that it was the end.

I couldn’t make Gerard come back, though, as much as I wished he would walk back through the door, with an apologetic smirk on his face, and his large, hazel eyes wide, with his infamous ‘please forgive me’ puppy dog expression. I also couldn’t deny that I’d played a big part in making him walk away. I had done the one thing I’d never want done to me. I threw his past back in his face, in a fit of jealousy. Yes, part of me still questioned if Gerard had, indeed, used his connections from his past life to get his pitch, but my reaction was extreme.

I shouldn’t care if he did. It was just sex, something that would have been cold and basic in nature. It would have been a means to an end, and meaningless to Gerard. He didn’t see sex like I did. He had learned to separate it from his emotions, from his desires. It was a function, something he could do easily and mindlessly. It didn’t equate a need, or a desire. Could I really be angry with him, when it was probably an inherent part of his thinking to not think when it came to such an intimate act? Was it really worth losing him over? Had I damaged everything in a stupid moment over something that meant nothing?

That was when the tears came running down my cheeks, in floods that were embarrassing, even as I sat by myself. The sobs were silent, but none the less painful. It wasn’t just the burning cheeks, and the stinging eyes, that hurt. My stomach was cramped, unsettled. I wanted to vomit up my guts. My chest physically hurt in a way I had only experienced once before. Only, this time, it was much worse. The pain had no real comparison. It was off the scale, and indescribable. The closest description I could give, was to imagine someone punching a hole in my chest, and squeezing their hands around my heart and lungs, consistently, and without mercy. I truly would have died in that moment, rather than experience the pain I was suffering. And a bitter voice in my head just hoped that Gerard felt even a fraction of the pain I was experiencing.

I don’t know how long I was there for. All I know is that,eventually, I looked at the small coffee table in front of the couch. The wood and glass table I had picked out when I first moved in. It was cluttered, with papers, empty glasses and remotes. There was only one thing out of place.

A little card. One that was small enough to fit into a wallet. The same one that had instigated the fight we'd had. I found myself reaching forward, clutching the card with fascination. There, in neat, italic writing, was a name. And a number. And a business address. I was staring at the business card of the woman who had been the reason to the disintegration of my happiness.

Suddenly, it wasn’t sorrow I felt anymore. I felt something much better, and more volatile. I felt righteous anger, and a need for revenge. A need to confront the source of my misery. That was what got me off the couch, and into the shower. It got me dressed, and in no time at all, I was out the door, with one goal in mind.

Confront the bitch who had destroyed my happiness.

Notes

Hey guys, long time no see.

Life has been...eventful. I met someone, who I'm a little crazy about, so I've had no time to write. I'm off for the next few days though, and then I'll be off for a few days over Christmas. So, I shall use to the time to write. As I type, I have the next chapter of this story started. I might even get it finished tonight. I think, for the moment, I shall try to get the last few chapters of this finished. The last chapter will be chapter 20, so there are only 3 left. I will be sorry to let this story go, but all things end. I just hope you guys forgive me for not being the best updater. I shall be rewriting my Christmas Story 'Last Christmas'; it was far too rushed, and I feel like I didn't do it justice. So, keep an eye out for that.

Anyway, lets hope you guys got through the long ass author's note. Please, let me know your thoughts and what you think will happen. I hope you enjoyed this offering!

Lyra xx