Two Different Roads

Here You Come Again

One bitterly cold night toward the end of the month, shortly after George married his girlfriend of two years, Patti Boyd, Ellen was curled up under a blanket on the sofa, alone, reading a book while Vicky was out on her latest date, when there was a knock at the door.
At first she thought it might be one of the other boys. They'd made a point of checking in with her since the break up. Ringo even brought his wife Maureen and new baby along. She glanced at the clock and decided it was a bit late for that though.
In the end, it was absolutely the last person in the world she'd expected to see.
"We need to talk," he said as he moved past her to sit stiffly on her sofa.
She could say nothing at first, only stare at him in shock. He looked thinner, full of nervous energy, his foot tapping restlessly as it sat in the typical spot over his opposite knee.
"I rather thought the last time you were here that you made it quite plain you didn't wish to speak to me ever again," she told him at last, perching uncomfortably in an armchair as far from him as possible. She lit a cigarette in a vain attempt to calm her nerves (screw you Mike Nesmith.)
"I said a lot of shite that I barely even remember at this point. I'd like to try and do a better job of it this time. I need to know some things and that wasn't the way to go about it."
"You do deserve answers. Don't start raving again and I'll try to give them to you."
"I guess the main thing is...why. Why El? I thought you cared."
This was the vulnerable John, the John underneath all the snark and bravado who just wanted to be loved, whose greatest fear was being abandoned. She found this one much harder to deal with. When he'd been screaming at her it had been easier to justify what she'd done she supposed, but with him so gentle, so sad, she could think of nothing to say that would make her feel like anything other than a heartless slag who'd run out on a man who adored her. "John, it just happened. I didn't MEAN to get involved with Michael, but we were somehow drawn to each other right away, and I couldn't seem to fight it. I can't explain it any other way. I know it doesn't make it any better, but I didn't actually go to bed with him until after you'd left and went back home." "Were you in love with him?" "I definitely thought so." He picked up on the past tense. "And now?" "It's over. We'll it seems to be. I couldn't give him what he wanted." "What did he want?" "I think he might have wanted to marry me. I wasn't ready for anything like that. He didn't understand, and now he's apparently broken it off entirely. I haven't spoken to him in a while." "He ended it." "He was right to I suppose. We just weren't in the same place." "Why weren't you?" "John I don't know. I think it was all just moving too fast. I needed more time." "Or maybe you needed something else." "What do you mean?" "You figure it out." "Are you suggesting that I couldn't commit to him because I still wanted YOU?" "You said it. I didn't." "John you're a married man in case you've forgotten. There was no future in what we had." "And yet when you found someone who could give you that future, everything I couldn't, you didn't want it. Isn't that what you just said? He dumped you because you said no to all that. So what that tells me is that you probably weren't done with ME yet." "Is that what you really came here for, to try and get me to say I still love you?" "You just did Little Girl." "I did NOT." "Well I still love YOU." What? He couldn't have just said those words. He was angry. He hated her now for what she'd done. "Oh I'm still pissed," he said, seeming to read her mind as always, "I'm pissed as can be. Part of me never wants to forgive you, but another part just doesn't give a shit, wants more than anything to pretend it never happened and take up right where we left off." "I don't know what to say John." "If you don't feel anything at all anymore, then there's nothing else TO say. But if there's even a CHANCE you DO..." "Then what?" "How the hell should I know? I'm just playing it by ear like I usually do." "I think I need something to drink," she said suddenly. She brought in a bottle of wine and two glasses, sat on the floor before the fire to drink hers, staring into the flames as if she'd find the answers she sought there. John joined her as soon as he'd poured a drink for himself. "This reminds me of the night you first gave yourself to me. It was right there on the floor in front of a fire like this one. God, that had to be, what, six years ago?" "Something like that." "A lot has changed since then...but then some things haven't." She suddenly didn't like the direction he once again seemed to be headed in. She stood up, began to pace. "Why do you always do this? Every time I try to get away you won't let me. You end up saying or doing something that makes me want to stay." "I didn't know being with me was such a drag, and that you couldn't wait to escape." "I'm not saying that John." "What ARE you saying then?" "I don't know." He stood in front of her to halt her motion. "I do. Like I said, I know exactly how I feel. I hate just the THOUGHT of some other man touching you, and I hate YOU for letting him. I want to hurt.you the way you hurt me. But then I also want to tear your clothes off and fuck you until you forget he ever existed, until all you can think of is me!" "Damn you John! Just do it then! If you're so sure you can make me forget, make me want you again then go ahead and try. I DARE you!" "Be careful what you ask for Little Girl." "All talk I see. You won't do anything!" All the breath left her body as she was suddenly slammed against the nearest wall, John's mouth on hers, hard, demanding. And that wasn't the only thing that was hard. She could feel him already pressing a full erection against her. "Don't ever dare me Ellie. But then I'm sure you knew what you'd get if you did. You WANT me to fuck you." Part of her suddenly wanted just that, but she lied, said, "No." "Really? Are you telling me if I was to touch you right now you wouldn't already be wet for me? Should I find out?" His hand slipped into her knickers. "That's what I thought," he crowed triumphantly. He lifted her against the wall as he'd done all those years ago in Hamburg, his mouth on hers once more. "On second thought maybe I won't fuck you. Maybe I'll just punish you, make you suffer a bit instead." He abruptly set her down, backed away a bit, then purposefully undid his belt, the button of his trousers, lowered his zipper. He took himself in hand, obviously remembering how it always aroused her to see him touch himself, stroked, then reached out for her, urged her to her knees before him. "Blow me and I'll THINK about putting you out of your misery." Such was the sexual power he'd always held over her that she didn't even consider refusing. She was more than a little turned on despite herself, actually somewhat eager to taste him again. She took all of him with the ease of much practice. "Fuck Ellen! You always were the best at that!" To her surprise, just when he seemed to be close, he pulled her back to her feet and pointed her toward the wall. In seconds, her knickers and his pants were both at ankles, her dress yanked up about her waist. With his need for reassurance and connection, John usually preferred sexual positions in which they were face to face with as much skin to skin contact as possible. The fact that he wanted her turned away from him now revealed a great deal about his state of mind as did the abrupt, rough manner in which he entered her, pounding away at her immediately mercilessly. For the first time with him ever she felt as if she were being used. This had nothing to do with the love he'd professed to still feel. This was simply employing her body to get off, to hurt her as he'd said he wanted to. There was an impatience, a restlessness to it as well. He quickly left off what he was doing to carry her into her bedroom as if she were a princess about to be ravaged by a member of a rival court, disposing of her clothes hastily, tossing his aside with downright agression. He was still feeling the need to dominate, to punish because he ordered her onto her stomach this time, took up his relentless pace again right away until he came quickly, leaving her unsatisfied for the only occasion she could remember in their long on again, off again relationship. He didn't hold her as he'd always done, just withdrew and lay down upon his back without speaking. She felt like one of his many groupies, wanted to cry but refused to give him the satisfaction of knowing his desire to humiliate her had been effective. He broke before she did. Within minutes, he was turning her to face him, pulling her into his arms, stroking her hair tenderly, her body pressed so tightly to his that it was as if he wished to fuse himself to her. "You hurt me, El. You hurt me so bad." "I know John. I'm sorry." "Do you still love me at all?" "Even after what you just did, I probably do." "I didn't really mean it, El. You've gotta know that. I guess I just wanted you to feel as awful as I did. I didn't actually hurt you did i?" "Not physically. Whatever you DID do, I probably deserved it. I left you for someone else with no warning." "It's not like I gave you much reason to stay with me. I've never been able to give you what he could have." "But as you pointed out, if that was what I wanted I'd have taken it when he offered it." "Maybe you just didn't want it with HIM," he said, the old Lennon cockiness finally returning. "What would you say if I told you I want to marry you?" "But you can't."

"Not now, it's true, but if I haven't made it entirely clear before, as soon as I can figure out a way to do it without destroying the band and ruining the others, I WILL marry you, if you'll have me that is."
He'd hinted at it, but this was the first time he'd put his intentions that plainly, specifically saying he intended to marry her. She didn't know how to respond other than to reach into her nightstand to retrieve the antique cameo ring he'd given her and return it to her finger on her left hand.
The symbolism was not lost on him. He took her in his arms once more, covering her with kisses, finally positioning her beneath him.
"Let's do it the right way this time. Let me make love to you."
II

He called Ringo, asked him to provide him with an alibi then rang his wife to inform her he would be staying with the drummer for the night.
"I told her Ritchie and me were drinking and I was too hammered to try and make it home," he said as he joined her in a bubble bath she'd drawn for herself. He beckoned her onto his lap. "This is like that night at Astrid's in Hamburg." He kissed her, his hands bathing her body with bubbles.
"We didn't even bother to dry off before we got into bed."
"I've never been known for my patience Luv."
"I'm aware."
"Mmm, so hot, wet and slippery." He squeezed her bottom, pressed her against his once more growing erection. Their tongues battled.
"El, I'm home! Are you here?"
"Vicky's back."
"Better answer her before she comes looking."
"I didn't think it was possible for you to be embarrassed."
"Me? No-I'm thinking of YOU. I'd ask her if she wanted to join us."
"If you ever suggest anything like that again, even as a joke..."
"What? You don't like sharing either?"
"Shut up John...I'm in the bath Vicky. I'll be out in a minute!"
"Spoil sport."
"John I swear..."
His arms went around her, holding her to him as he nuzzled her neck in a way that was far more playful now than erotic. Despite herself, she couldn't help giggling. "Stop John that tickles!"
"Are you all right in there?"
"Fine. "I'm coming out now," she said firmly, elbowing him.
"Ow, that hurt, Ellie."
"Let go then Lennon," she said with a mischievous smile.
She stepped out, grabbed towels for both of them. "I think you left an old dressing gown here in my room."
"So what are you going to tell your sister? Or do you expect me to hide out the rest of the night?"
"Of course not. You can come out once you have something on and I'll deal with her disapproval."
"Disapproval?"
"You're not exactly one of her favorite people right now."
III

Ellen had judged Vicky's mood correctly. She looked less than pleased to say the least when Ellen entered the living room in a night dress, John following in a pair of pajamas he'd left behind and since forgotten about.
"I thought I heard two voices in there...so we're doing this again are we?"
"WE are, not YOU," John clarified with a smirk. "She said no to that."
"What happened to 'I'm done with you'?"
"Turns out that statement was a bit inaccurate."
"Obviously. Well both of you try to get it right this time. This back and forth shite is annoying."
"We'll keep that in mind."