Timeless

1: The Guest

Present

Madeleine swirled a wooden spoon through the pot on the stove, watching as the bubbles slowly started to break on the surface of the carrot soup. The apartment was quiet and filled with the smell of rosemary and garlic. She was savoring this moment of calm in her kitchen before her birthday party would begin and the place would fill with voices, laughter and music.

It had been a whirlwind of a week.
She was shooting a new movie-a role she had chased for months-and the intensity of the project was beginning to show on her face and in her bones. Early mornings, late nights, intense rehearsals. But she had managed to keep today clear.
Today was hers, a birthday gift to herself, a full day off to be surrounded by the people who meant most to her. She smiled as she thought about it; there was no set or script today, only her friends and her family.

Just as she was finishing up the last salad she felt a pair of arms snake around her waist.
Paxton’s warm breath brushed her cheek and she felt his familiar presence against her back.

“Need any help, birthday girl?” he murmured.

Madeleine leaned back against him. She placed her hands over his, squeezing them gently. “You’re a little late to offer help, but I’ll take it.” she teased, tilting her head to look up at him.

He gave her that easy grin she loved, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “I’ll be in charge of quality control then. Someone’s got to make sure this buffet is perfect.”

“Right. As if you don’t always find a reason to sample things,” she laughed, tapping his hand before slipping out of his grasp. She grabbed two bowls and poured him small samples of both the soup and the salad, watching as he tasted them with an exaggeratedly thoughtful expression.

“Perfect,” he announced, his voice low and affectionate. “Just like you.”

She shook her head, slapping his shoulder playfully. Everything was simple and easy with him, even after two years of living together in this sprawling apartment, overlooking the city skyline.

Their relationship had begun the way all of hers did-fast, bright and full of fervor. She’d fallen hard, swept up in the intensity of his attention, the way he seemed to admire every part of her. After two years the initial blaze had softened to something calmer, almost predictable, something she’d come to expect in her romances.
She loved the thrill of newness, the surge of being swept away, but once that spark ebbed, so did her will for commitment. Paxton, though, was steady and loyal-an easy partner who always took care of her, the sort of man who anticipated her needs, who would go to great lengths to see her happy. He doted on her and made her feel adored in a way that felt almost luxurious. She liked being the center of his world, the way he made her feel wanted, even if she was already wondering how long it would last.

Growing up in the world of television, Madeleine had learned early that nothing in her life was guaranteed to last-not roles, not friends, not even the personas she inhabited on screen. She’d been conditioned to move from one project to the next, slipping in and out of different lives and at some point that rhythm had bled into her real relationships as well. Long-term commitment felt like a kind of entrapment, a slow confinement to routines that dulled the thrill of being wanted. For Madeleine, relationships were exciting until they lost their spark, which happened inevitably.
Open relationships felt like a natural extension of that; they gave her the freedom to explore, to dip into the thrill of newness without the weight of expectation. If someone could accept her on those terms, she reasoned, they could stay. Paxton knew and understood her and that's why they were perfect for each other.

As if on cue, the doorbell rang. Madeleine felt a flicker of nervous excitement as she went to open it, her heart lifting at the sight of her best friend, Callie, standing on the other side. She was holding a colorful bouquet and grinning widely, her dark hair framing her face in soft waves.