Endlessly (Jamie Dornan) *COMPLETED*

Chapter 10

I stepped out of the shower to the sound of yelling. Confused, I quickly dried myself off and dressed, running out of the bedroom. My clothes were sticking to me in the most uncomfortable way, but I had to find out what the hell all the fuss was about.

"Don't go there!" I heard Jamie seethe, as I approached the landing. He was pissed at someone.

I slowly crept down the stairs so I wouldn't make my presence known, and peered around the corner. He was sitting on his black leather sofa with his phone lit up on the armrest beside him.

She can't take care of you. Has she ever taken care of another human before? She's barely out of college.

It was an unfamiliar female's voice with a British accent. I tried to stop my blood from boiling as my curiosity forced me to take another step down onto the cold hardwood floor. Whoever was on the other line was obviously referring to me.

"You don't even know her!" he spat.

Neither do you. But I guess after you sleep with someone, that's good enough reason to move her in.

That was a low blow. Who the hell did she think she was?

"Do not concern yourself with my private life. I don't give a fuck about yours."

How will you explain to our daughter why her new friend doesn't come around once you dump her?

His ex-wife.

"Good thing I won't have to since I love her."

Heard that before.

"Oh, for Chrissake, I loved you once, but we both know it was convenient. Don't flatter yourself."

You don't love her, Jamie you're fascinated. She's not in it for you; she wants your celebrity status. She'll be gone in no time and I'll have to pick up the pieces."

I let out a small cry at her sharp words and he looked over.

"Shit," he said to both of us.

I watched him end the call and throw his phone across the couch before I took off up the stairs.

"Kelsey, no!"

His footsteps came quickly behind me, but I ignored them and stomped into his bedroom. I began picking up my clothes from the floor, tossing them angrily into my open suitcase.

"Baby," he said breathless as he approached.

"Don't," I whispered.

"Stop, please. Look at me."

So I did. I wanted him to see the tears running down my burning cheeks. Every emotion I knew suddenly slapped me across the face. I turned to see his solemn expression, bruises and scars discolored but fading.

"I'm sorry you had to hear that," he began, "but don't listen to her. She doesn't know you or even me anymore."

"Doesn't she?"

His eyebrows furrowed.

"She sure feels strongly about having to pick up the pieces and explain to your daughter why you dumped me."

"She has absolutely no basis for her reasoning. She's jealous because she knows deep down that I love you more after two months than I did her after four years."

I closed my eyes at his confession, wanting so bad to kiss him for it, but I was livid. She wasn't going to talk about me like that, and he wasn't going to let her.