Unforgettable ~ A Jared Leto/MARS Fanfiction

11-Lanie

"So..." I say quietly, meeting Jared's eyes across the breakfast table, his granola largely uneaten and mine a tasteless sludge in my bowl. "I guess we need to talk, huh?"

"Yes, I think we do," Jared replies. The words are clipped and cold, as if I've done something wrong. As if I'm the one who disappeared for over twenty-four hours without an explanation. He's pissed, no doubt about that. His demeanor—from the narrowed eyes, the tightness in his mouth, the way his hands are doubled up in fists and rested on either side of his ignored breakfast—all of it screams anger. And yet, I don't get the impression that all of it is directly aimed at me.

Not the way mine's directly aimed at him, anyway.

I take a deep breath. "Then I guess I'll start with the obvious. Where the fuck were you?"

"With a friend," Jared answers. "And before you ask? No. I didn't fuck around on you."

"I wasn't going to ask," I say truthfully. "Right now I think why you took off in the first place is more important than where you were, what you were doing and with whom."

Jared's voice is tense, his eyes never breaking contact with mine as he says, "The minute I got in the door after spending hours dealing with Katia fucking Valkov and the fucking paparazzi, you hit me with that website. Despite how many times you've been told about this tabloid shit—by me, by Flora, by Magda—your first reaction was, you believed it." He pauses and lets out a harsh breath. "And what did I say from the beginning? Before you believe anything you read online, ask me." He scoffs again. "But you didn't, Lanie. You didn't ask me. You read that garbage and you cannot deny that your first reaction was belief. I could see it in you. How do you think that made me feel?"

I swallow hard as my defenses burn hot and wild, driving my words and my anger. "How do you think it made me feel, Jared?" I demand. "How do you think any of this makes me feel?" My voice rises despite my efforts to remain calm, but it's like something's taking over inside me, something I have to release or it'll eat me alive. Thank God Shelby's at school, because once I get started my words tumble forth—fierce and rising in volume. I'm seldom one to lose control and yell, but there's an undeniable relief in letting it all out.

And so I get to my feet, staring down at my husband. "It's easy for you to tell me this is all part of the business, but I'm not part of the business, Jared, and I'm sick and tired of all of it! Of our every move being dictated by people who have no right dictating anything. Of people just saying whatever ugly lies and hurtful things they want to without any repercussions. Of sitting by silently while you pretend to have a relationship with that bitch." I take a deep, shaking breath, forcing my voice to lower. "According to the world, Katia Valkov is the woman you love, and me? Your wife?" I gesture at myself. "Nobody knows who I am." I let out a self-deprecating laugh, slapping my forehead. "Oh, wait—what am I saying? Yeah, they know who I am. I'm 'PoolGirl'."

Jared closes his eyes and rests his forehead on one hand. "Lanie—"

"Don't say it, Jared. Don't you condescend to me and tell me again that I knew what I was getting into." I snatch up our cereal bowls and stomp into the kitchen, depositing them with a loud clatter in the sink. It's a wonder they don't break.

"Lanie," Jared speaks behind me. "That isn't what I was going to say."

I turn. He's right behind me, his eyes dark and hooded. With a grimace, he says, "What I was going to say is, the world might not know, but Katia knows exactly who you are."

My heart leaps into my throat at the tension in his eyes, his voice. His words strike me hard and fast, like a cold dash of water in the face. "What?" I whisper, all heated aggression gone. In its place a sick feeling forms; growing, spreading.