The Make-Up Artist: Part 2

Chapter Forty One: The Shower

You feel awful the next morning as you drag yourself from your bed to shower and get ready for the day. You had barely slept all night after Taron left, tossing and turning with waking dreams of your last conversation. You had run the full gamut of decisions as you tossed. Everything from, "of course you will choose to be with him, why the hell wouldn't you?", to "how could he ask this of you, to drop everything and run to London or your relationship is over forever?"

At the same time, how could you ever tell him no? How could you ever say you would prefer to be without him? And all you have to do is show up to some party in London? There are certainly worse things. But you know why, because you'd be committing to a life that you aren't exactly comfortable with. A life that frightens you. A life in the spotlight. Words and phrases from your conversation filter through your brain as you shower. Things like "choice", "choose", "commit", "once and for all", "no turning back", "let you go", "love just isn't enough", "separate ways", "risking my heart". That last one really destroyed you the most. Maybe you've never really seen it from Taron's point of view. Has your waffling actually torn him up as much as he indicated last night? Have you really done this much harm to cause him to give you an ultimatum, or choice as he put it? Or is he just being dramatic and all this will blow over eventually? You just don't know and all the questions swirling through your brain are making you crazy. You are actually thankful for the very busy day and week ahead that will hopefully distract you from this madness.

To make matters worse, as you are pouring yourself a cup of to-go coffee into your travel mug, your eyes land on Taron's tie still folded neatly over the back of the kitchen chair. Picking it up gently, you slide the silky fabric through your hands before bringing it up to your face. Closing your eyes, you inhale the fabric deeply, reveling in the warmth that floods your senses as you ingest his tantalizing scent that still resides within it. Only allowing yourself a moments repose with the piece of clothing, you fold it up and place it back where you found it, deciding to deal with it later.

And if the reminder of the tie weren't bad enough, as you are leaving your apartment, you find a scrawled note on the floor at your front door that will prove to leave you with nothing but more distractions of Taron. It looks as though he's pulled a sheet of paper from one of your many spiraled notebooks you leave lying around to jot down story ideas as they come to you. He must've slipped it under the door after he left. Picking it up with shaky hands, you read the short message written in his slanted handwriting.

In case I haven't made it clear. You are enough. You are amazing, You are the woman of my dreams and the desire of my heart. Even if you don't choose me in the end, know that my heart will choose you forever. All my love, T.

Folding the note carefully and tucking it into your purse as you fight back the impending tears, you leave your apartment and prepare yourself for the day.

Three hours later, as you are sitting down to a hurried lunch and checking your phone, you are feeling no better than you did when you first got up this morning. The feeling is doubled when you click open an email from Lindsay with flight plans to London this weekend. He really is going through with this. How are you ever supposed to make this decision in four days? If only he would give you a little more time. You almost laugh out loud at this thought. You've known Taron for over a year. How much more time do you need? Closing out of the email, you scarf down the rest of your sandwich and go back to work, deciding that this life decision will just have to wait a little longer. You still haven't answered Lisa's invitation either, however you had placed an Amazon order from her gift registry earlier today.

Much to your relief, the week flies by regardless of your meddlesome worries, and you feel very satisfied with another productive week under your belt until the New Year. It feels odd to be done with the show for a few months and you wonder how you're going to spend your time over the next few weeks and upcoming holidays. You are excited about the prospect of getting some writing done and even plan to submit an episode idea to the writers of the show. You know you will be able to spend some time with your family, which is good, but there's another emptiness that is leaving you with a sinking feeling in your stomach and a hole in your heart. At least one important decision has been made however, and you head home on Friday afternoon to pack for your upcoming trip. Once you are satisfied that you have everything you need, you plunk yourself down onto the couch to do a little bit of writing. After only getting down a couple of paragraphs however, your phone interrupts you by alerting you of an incoming text. You consider ignoring it since you are in a bit of a groove at the moment, but decide you better check just in case it's something about work.