The End

Chapter 33: Alexis

The waves crashed beneath the Nobu deck. The moon seemed to twinkle off the water and the breeze made the 80 degree evening practically perfect. There hadn't been many parties like this in the post covid world. They had all tested to be there and some still wore masks. But still, they were outside, among friends. Successful women networking. It was like a breath of fresh air. The normalcy of it all felt intoxicating. And then... 

The sound of a glass shattering against the wooden floor instantly brought Jill's attention to the woman just across the party. The shattered glass surrounding a simple pair of black sandals. Jill followed the woman's frame until she met her eyes. 

Her heart sunk, as she looked into the eyes of Alexis. The woman who had almost ruined her marriage. She'd never met her, not officially, she'd seen her around on the Grey's set but had no reason to interact with her. It was only after everything went so public did she even really know what she looked like. 

Jillian quickly looked away. She steadied herself against the railing and set her glass on a nearby table. "Excuse me," she said softly to the group she was mingling with and headed quickly to the bathroom. 

It wasn't fresh or raw. It wasn't even a scar that she had to avert her eyes from. It was simply an awkward run in. Perhaps more awkward for Alexis. She pep talked herself in the mirror. The door swung open behind her. Jill reached into her purse to reapply her lipstick. 

"Listen," from the woman's very first word Jill could tell that she'd had too much to drink, "You know my friend didn't fuck your husband."

"I'm sorry?" Jillian straightened her stance and met the woman's eyes. 

"Alexis," she clarified, "She wasn't sleeping with Patrick. They torched her career over it. So if you are going to have someone ask her to leave tonight, I'm here to ask you to give her a fucking break." 

Jillian rolled her eyes,  "I don't know what your friend told you but I'm not going to be lectured in the bathroom by someone who clearly has no idea what they are talking about." She put her lipstick back in her purse holding her ground and her confidence. "Don't worry, I'll go." 

"Oh my god," pity filled the woman's eyes, "you don't know..." Jillian was nearly to the bathroom door when, "She could never tell me who it was. Goldwyn Associates made her sign some kind of NDA. But I have a good guess. I bet you do too." Jill froze mid-step before bursting out of the bathroom door. 

Jill felt frantic as she sped around the curves to her home in the Malibu hills. The air catching in her lungs with every breath she tried to take. She could feel her heart racing and her mind starting to spin with memories. They seemed to echo loudly through her head. 

"Hey," she said happily, "how did it go."

He smiled, "It felt good to be back."

"Good," Jillian hugged him, "I'm happy for you."  As she rested her  head against his chest, her nose was filled with a familiar scent. One that sent a strange sensation across Jill's body. One of both nostalgia and fear. 

What?" Patrick asked nervously.

"It's been a long time since you came home smelling like Ellen." She let out a nervous half laugh.

He sniffed his shirt casually ,"Yeah," he could barely answer.

Patrick had come home smelling like Ellen for nearly a decade. It had happened so often that it had stopped making Jillian nervous. It was part of the job. She didn't ask questions. The details of their daily scripted encounters were too much for her to hear about. Now, the questions swirled through her like some sort of stomach virus. 

The world had watched their chemistry burst into flames on that set. How had she been so naive to believe that it wasn't real. That the intimacy that they slipped into with ease was fake. The way their eyes twinkled together fabricated. 

Jillian turned to catch a glimpse of the way they locked eyes across the crowd. She looked from Ellen and back to Patrick. For a second they were in a world of their own. 

She analyzed the memory. Observing every detail that she could recall. The way Patrick turned away from Ellen intentionally. How he had been barely present in the conversation he'd started to keep his eyes off of her. She remembered him fiddling with his hands, with his ring. 

"Hey," Ellen cleared her throat and leaned to greet Patrick with friendly hug. Jillian watched, she had never seen two people hug and barely touch. She tried to wrap her mind around how that could even be considered a hug.

"Hi," he smiled a practiced grin. "You look beautiful," his tone strange and surprising. It felt both forced and urgent, like he couldn't resist saying it. He seemed distracted for a brief second and then,"Jill," Patrick's voice seemed to shake a little, "this is Ellen," he paused, "Ellen, this is my wife Jill."

Patrick and Ellen didn't really look at each other but they seemed to move in a strange unison. Like they had planned not to touch or spend too much time looking at each other. Jillian's chest swirling with uneasiness.

The same uneasiness weighing heavy against her chest. Her memories filtering in faster and faster. Everything coming together like pieces of a puzzle. She could feel the tears start to build in her eyes. Anger blossoming in her with every revelation. 

"She could never tell me who it was. Goldwyn Associates made her sign some kind of NDA. But I have a good guess. I bet you do too." 

Goldwyn Associates. The firm Patrick had paid to save his image, to spin his story. Had it all been to let Ellen quietly slip away unscathed?

I don't want to rest," Patrick said softly, "I want to talk to you."

The tone in his voice was permanently imprinted in Jillian's ears. It was soft and sweet, genuine. Somehow it had been both the way you talk to someone you were just falling in love with and someone you've loved for a lifetime.