Finding You, Looking for Me: A Henry Cavill FanFic

Part 22: You Have to Move to Prove You're Alive

Weeks passed like this. I found myself spending long hours not uttering a sound. Henry and I spent every night in bed together, holding each other close—but I had never felt so distant from him. We had never gone more than a few days without making love, and it had been a few weeks past the recommended waiting period after giving birth.

Henry decided that he was going to fly to Calgary to spend some time with his brother. He did not invite me to join him. When the car came to drive Henry to the airport, I saw him off at the door. I hugged him, and kissed his lips—tears immediately springing from my eyes. He kissed me back, resting his forehead on mine. For a moment, I felt it—his love for me.

"I love you, Sarah," he whispered to me. "So much."

"I love you, too, baby," I whispered back. I kissed him again, resting my hands on his chest. He placed his hands on my bottom and pulled me closer to him, while he deepened the kiss. "Are we going to be okay?" I whispered into the kiss, openly weeping.

"Yes," he answered me, quickly. He pulled away, and held my face in his hands. "We are going to be okay," he told me quietly, his sad blue eyes meeting my own. "I'm going to be home soon."

I nodded, knowing he was returning in a week, but that he was leaving me by myself right now. We kissed again, and he was off to the airport. And I was home alone, with Kal.

I decided that I'd take a shower and get dressed to go out. I could sneak out to have a drink at a pub. I poured myself a glass of wine to drink while I applied a full face of makeup. As the bottle of wine disappeared, I found myself getting angry—I was hurt that Henry had gone off on his own and left me alone while I was in this state. I stood in front of the mirror, admiring my cream colored sun dress. My hand moved to the adjustable straps, when my engagement ring caught my eye in the mirror. I took it off and placed it on our dresser. I grabbed a denim jacket, my iPhone, my purse, and my house keys—and headed to the door to wait for the car I had ordered.

I walked into a pub pretty close to our home. While I had lived here for over a year, hiding out from the paparazzi made exploring the area difficult. I wasn't worried about the paparazzi today. I just needed the "noise."

I sat at the bar and ordered a beer, knowing this wasn't a bar to order cocktails. I pulled my iPhone out and sent a text to Henry, knowing that he was probably in the air right then and wouldn't see it until he landed in Canada.

"I love you so much, baby. I know you're aching. And so am I. But I need you and I love you. And we'll get through this."

I sipped my beer and scrolled through my phone, looking for something to read. I settled on The New York Times, and began to read about American politics.

"Sarah?" I heard someone call behind me.

I looked up and turned around. A young, blond woman was standing behind me. "Yes?" I responded.

"I'm sorry to bother you. You're Henry's fiancé?" she asked me.

Being slightly drunk, I narrowed my eyes at her, "Who are you?" I asked, my voice low.

"I'm a photographer. Taylor Brown," she explained. "I'm sorry to bother you," she repeated. "I've just seen some of your photos recently, and I was surprised to see you here on your own."

I nodded, taking a drink of my beer. "Yes, I'm Sarah. And yes, I'm Henry's fiancé. And I'm here alone."

She looked at me with her big brown eyes, "I'm very sorry for your loss. Please pass along my condolences to Henry."

I froze, watching her. I nodded slowly. "Thank you," I said quietly. "I'm surprised you said anything. I had assumed that people would be avoiding me like the plague," I chuckled mirthlessly.