Shorties

Sacrifice

The whole house was dark except the reading lamp next to the sofa in the living room. She was sitting there, between the cushions, willing herself to concentrate on the words in her book.

It's past 3 AM and her eyes are tired but she promised herself to stay awake. She had to stay awake so she could see his condition when he came home. To see if he was tipsy or drunk even. If he was sweating or still in control of his body. To see if he had lipstick smudges somewhere.

She secretly cursed herself for being this way. She didn't want to be that girl. But he left her no other choice. It's either staying awake and seeing for herself, or falling asleep and being suspicious for the rest of the week.

The key entering the lock makes her hold her breath. The front door opens and closes quietly. He tries to be as soundless as possible, thinking she's already fast asleep and not wanting to wake her. That's why he startles as he sees the light in the living room and her sitting there, watching him. "Hi" he greets her softly. She doesn't say anything as she observes him as he takes of his suit jacket. "It's" she looks at the yellow numbers of the digital watch "3.27 AM". "I know. It got a little late" he smiles sorrily at her. She sighs as she stands up, freeing herself from the comfort of her blanket. "You are angry" he observes. "No, not angry. Just disappointed, I guess" she takes a step closer in his direction. The limited resource of light makes it difficult to really see his features. He smells slightly of alcohol but not as much as she expected. "I'm sorry" he says trying to take her hand in his. "That's the problem. You keep saying it but then you go off and do it again" she snatches her hand away from him. He frowns at her "do what again, exactly?".

"You go off to parties. You dance with other women. You reject me in front of everyone just to keep your public appearance clean" she can't see his face very clearly but she can make out the frown that deepens on his face. "That's my job" he objects. "No" she cuts him off "your job is acting, for the movies. But lately it seems also for the rest of the world". He's grinding his teeth for a moment before he answers "that's part of the job. It happens when you reach a certain point in the career. It's for the best". She snorts sarcastically "so flirting and dancing with random women and going to dates with female co-actresses is part of the job now, yes?". He notices how his blood pressure is rising, it might be the alcohol but he feels how he is getting pissed with her behaviour "YES. Yes, it's bloody part of the bloody fucking job!". She looks at his balled fists, trying to keep her temper under control "fantastic" she spits. He tries to take deep breaths and attempts to bring his own temper under control.

"So, you are basically telling me that you get paid for having fun with other women at parties to keep your 'public image' clean, do I understand you right?! You get bloody paid for denying me?!" she throws her arms in the air and lets them fall into her sides again. He doesn't answer. He just stares angrily at her frame which is illuminated by the lamp behind her.

"What do you want me to do?" he finally hisses after a moment of angry silence "do you want me to declare my infinite love for you? In front of everyone? Do you really want to be pulled into my mess?!".

She swallows away the lump in her throat as she stares at him "I just want you to stop pretending". He's grinding his teeth again. "You either stop pretending to be someone you are not. Or you stop pretending to love me" her voice is calmer than she would have expected it to be. As her words register in his head, he can't help the growl escaping his chest "that's what you think? You think I'm fucking pretending?". She swallows uncomfortably as a response to his low, dangerous demeanour. "Yes" she challenges and stands her ground as he takes a step towards her, now standing chest to chest. She stares at his loosened tie around his neck and how it rises and falls with every rigid breath he takes. At least she couldn't spot any lipstick or smell any foreign perfume on him. The discovery makes her want to cry. What was she doing? Why was she doubting him?

He waits for her to look up, into his eyes, but as she refuses to do so and suddenly begins to sniff, he relaxes his tense shoulders and carefully puts his hands on her hips. The touch makes her sob and causes her tears to finally fall and suddenly she finds her face on his chest and her arms snaking around his hips and holding onto his shirt "I'm sorry" she whimpers. "Shhhhhh" he wraps his arms around her, pressing her head further into his chest. "What am I doing?" she whimpers again. "It's ok" he reassures her. This makes her tears spill even faster and she sobs out loud. "I can't do this anymore" she quietly whispers into his chest after they stood like that for some minutes. He almost didn't hear her. "I can't do it anymore" she says a bit louder now "I can't pretend not to care. It hurts. It hurts to see you out with other women and it hurts to hear people speculating about you being in a relationship with them. I- I just can't take it. I thought I could but I can't. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry" she rants and squeezes herself into him harder. He instantly embraces her tighter as well "don't say that. It's going to be alright. We will figure something out. We will find a way".

He could feel her smile against his chest but he knew it was a sad one. For she knew as well as he did, that he would never sacrifice his career for her nor for anyone else.

-----

This is a piece from my earlier days. I obviously wrote this as a fan fiction about a well known actor. I edited his name out though. This way it's more integrative.