For the Love (a Tom Hiddleston fanfic)

Chapter 43

          Emie stared at her date.  She couldn’t take her eyes off of him. 
       The strange thing was, she was looking at him, but she wasn’t really seeing him.  Her mind was elsewhere.  He was good looking.  Blond, wavy hair, chestnut eyes.  He was tall, and muscular and from what she could tell, didn’t really have anything physically wrong with him.  He had a normal, nice guy name- James, and he was from California.  He didn’t have an accent of any kind, New Jersey, English or otherwise.  He had held the door for her, and let her order whatever she wanted off the menu.  Their conversation was normal, at times funny and interesting, and overall it was a good date.
       But Emie was only half there.  She had given it a chance at first.  She’d even been sort of excited about this date.  He was a writer, after all.  They were set up through Scotty.  Scotty had sworn he was normal, and sweet, and a talented writer.  Someone Emie could really relate too.  And so, Emie had decided to give it a try.
       She’d made all these deicisions after she had called Tom, the day after Thanksgiving.  She had called him the very next morning, after a sleepless night.  It was seven am in Los Angeles, but three in the afternoon in London.  She didn’t know if he’d be in a show, or rehearsal, or what, but she called.  Her palms were sweating and her heart racing, and then she had gotten his voicemail.  At least she knew it was the right number.  When she’d heard his voice, she’d barely remembered her own name.  She had left a short, awkward message.
       “Um, hi Tom. It’s Emie. I just…wanted to say hi. So, hello. And well, I hope you had a good thanksgiving, and have a good Christmas.  Perhaps we will, ah, speak soon.  Okay, goodbye.” She had immediately regretted it as soon as she hung up, and even more so after he didn’t return her call. She had forced herself not to think about it.  She wanted to try and move on.  She knew there had to be a way.
       And so, here she was.  On a date.  The days had passed, and it had been almost three months since she’d last seen Tom.  Time didn’t necessarily make it easier, but perhaps it just dulled her memories, smothered the pain some.  The wounds were still there.  She knew they’d never be gone.
       “Are you going to stay in Los Angeles long term?” James asked, pulling Emie’s attention back to their conversation.  They had just gotten into a cab, and were on their way back to Lucia and Chris’ house.  James had been adamant that they share a cab, and he see her home. 
       “I’m not sure.  Things are hectic for me right now.” She said simply.  For some reason, Los Angeles had felt very wrong lately.  It felt even less like home.  And now, with all the paparazzi following her around, it was even more alienating.  Somehow, that night, she’d managed to slip under the radar. 
       “I would love to see you again.” James said, and Emie felt him slip his hand over and around hers.  She looked at him, a bit surprised.  Not that he wanted to see her again, but just from the physical contact.  It was strange to think she honestly hadn’t really touched anyone in an intimate way in months.  It was even stranger that her first reaction was to pull away.
       “I had a nice time tonight, James.” Emie said slowly.  She paused when she felt his hand move from her hand to her thigh.  Emie shifted, uncomfortably.  “I’m, uh, going to be honest with you.  I’m really busy at the moment with work.” She said, and let her instincts take over, and she gently pushed his hand off her leg.  She silently wondered if she was broken.  She felt nothing. 
       Without thinking, her hand reached up, touching the single pearl she wore around her neck.  The gift from Tom.  She hadn’t taken it off since he’d given it to her.  At this point, it was almost like a crutch, or perhaps more like an anchor.  It held her in place.  It kept her from moving.
       “I see.” James said softly.  He didn’t seem overly upset, or angry.  “Are you still seeing that guy? Hiddleston?” James asked, and the mention of Tom’s name made Emie look up.  She frowned.
       “Why would I be on a date with you if I were seeing someone else?” She said, trying to keep the edge from her voice.  James shrugged and crossed his arms over his chest.
       “I’m just wondering what could be keeping you so busy.  You should be glad I took you out.  After a sex tape scandal, not many guys would want to touch that.” James raised a dark eyebrow, looking Emie up and down in a rude, leacherous way.  Emie clenched her jaw, and looked away.  They were nearing her house.  She always knew blind dates were a bad idea. 
       She stayed silent as they pulled up to the house, and Emie got out as quickly as her dress would allow her.  She heard James say something to the cab driver, and then she heard his car door opening.  Emie swallowed hard, rushing toward the front door, wondering why James would be following. 
       “So that’s it? I buy you dinner and you blow me off?” James asked, stopping at the bottom of the short set of stairs that led to the front door.  Emie turned around, her temper flaring.
       “Wow. And to think, Scotty told me you were a nice guy.” Emie spit out, looking for her keys in her bag.  She prayed he wouldn’t come up onto the porch.
       “I am a nice guy. You’re just a fucking tease.” He said, putting his foot on the first step.  Emie shook her head, rolling her eyes.  Her stomach flipped, and she just wanted to be inside, in sweats and sitting on the couch with a large amount of ice cream.
       “Fuck off, dude.” She scoffed, finally finding her keys.  She jammed them quickly into the door, opened it and then stepped inside, not waiting for another response from James, the nice guy.  She slammed the door behind her and sank against it, breathing in deep.  Her heart was racing. 
       It was obvious.  She wasn’t ready for any of that.  She wasn’t ready to date, or even think about dating.  Not when she was still in love with Tom.  What had she done? Had she thrown away the sweetest, most understanding man she’d ever met so she could continue to go on shitty blind dates with misogynistic frat boys?  Emie felt something deep inside her close up, as if it were something that had once lived, and thrived, and now that part of her was dead, all the way to the roots.
      
 ****     
       It wasn’t snowing outside, but then again it never snowed.  It wasn’t even that cold.  There weren’t any Christmas decorations up, despite Lucia’s insistence that she put some up before she left for Australia.  Emie had told her to stop being silly, and to sit her pregnant self down.   It didn’t quite feel like Christmas to Emie, even though the holiday was a few short days away, but she supposed that had to do with a lot of things.   She had done a bit of shopping, and they had exchanged presents the day before Chris and Lucia left.  That had been the extent of Emie’s celebrations. She didn’t have actual plans for Christmas, but she guessed some take out and Netflix would be in order.
       Emie had the house all to herself, which felt strange.  In the past few weeks, Lucia had been home constantly.  It had been nice.  The girls had started decorating the nursery.  Chris and Lucia wanted the sex of the baby to be a surprise, so they had decided to do something neutral. They had decided on a nautical theme, with a lot of cute sea creatures.  Chris had helped them paint the third bedroom, and Lucia and Emie spent a lot of time shopping for accessories and furniture for the nursery.  Emie also began to start planning out ideas for a small shower for Lucia as well, after the holidays. It had been a great way to keep Emie focused and it kept her mind on positive things.  She really needed it.
       Emie had worked on her novel most of the afternoon, and then into the evening.  One good thing was, she was able to throw herself headfirst into her new book.  If she let that engulf her life, it helped to emolliate the pain of how spectaculary shitty everything else had become.  At least she, somehow, still had her career.  Her book sales were even better than they’d ever been, and she told herself it wasn’t just because of the photo scandal.  They had released the news about film adaptations of her series, and that had renewed interest in the books. The newest novel she was writing was separate from her series, and she was putting all her energy into writing it.
       She stood up, feeling her stomach rumble as she realized she hadn’t eaten since early that morning after her run.  She was about to go and fix herself a late dinner, when her phone rang.
       “Hello?” She answered, walking into the kitchen.
       “Hey. It’s me. Just checking in.”
       “The house has not burned down yet.” Emie sighed. Lucia had barely been gone for two days and she was already making sure everything was alright. 
       “Did you check the mail? And water the plants?” Lucia asked.  Emie bit her lip, realizing she hadn’t checked the mail in a few days.  It wasn’t exactly a priority.
       “Of course, Luce.” She fibbed, walking toward the front of the house so she could go to the mailbox.
       “Can you do me a favor?” Lucia asked, sounding far away.  She was far away.
       “Sure…how are you?” Emie asked with a laugh.
       “I’m great.  It’s been awesome so far, and Chris’ family has been amazing as usual.” She replied, but she sounded rushed.  “Listen, they are airing some interview with Chris on Entertainment Nightly tonight at 8.  Will you DVR it?” Lucia asked.  She wanted Emie to record it for her.  Emie frowned slightly.  It was a strange request.  Why did Lucia need a recording of her husband giving an interview? She could just ask him whatever she wanted, as he was probably sitting right next to her.
       “Um, sure.” Emie said hesitantly.
       “Thanks, you’re a doll.  You should watch it.  He talks about the new movie.” Lucia suggested.  Emie blinked.
       “Okay…I guess I can.  I know about the new movie though.” Emie said slowly.  Lucia laughed and then made a huffing noise.
       “Okay, Em. Thanks a bunch! I’ll talk to you later.” And with that, Lucia hung up.  Emie stared at her phone for a second, wondering what had just happened.  It had definitely been a strange conversation.  She groaned and rolled her eyes, not even being able to begin to decipher her sister’s strange, pregnancy addled mind.  It had to be the hormones.
       Emie opened the front door and jogged down the long drive way to the mail box.  When she opened it, it was jammed full with things.  A lot of crap mail, offers for credit cards and advertisements, a few bills, and two packages.  One was a small, brown paper wrapped rectangle, the other was a crinkled plastic mailer.  Emie grabbed everything and went back inside, dumping it on the coffee table to sort through.
       She turned on the television as she did, realizing it was almost eight.  She didn’t want to make Lucia angry by missing the interview.  Lucia was a bit overly emotional these days.  She switched on the correct channel and hit record as she turned down the volume to almost zero.  She didn’t really need to hear the interview.  She wasn’t totally sure why her sister even cared.
       Emie looked at the mail, tossing trash into one pile and bills and letters into another.  The plastic mailer bag was soft, and mostly like clothes of some sort.  It was addressed to Lucia, and she put that to the side.  The smaller, brown paper wrapped package was addressed to her.  She frowned, wondering what it was.  She set it down, glancing up at the television as she did.
       Tom stared back at her, and she nearly had a heart attack. He was sitting across from the host of the show, wearing a black cardigan and a white v neck tshirt.  He looked healthy, and fit, and gorgeous.  Emie grabbed the remote, and turned the volume up quickly.  Her heart skipped when she heard him.  He sounded a little hoarse, as if he’d been using his voice too much.
       “…in the West End, and we have about another month run to go.” He said half way through his sentence.  She sat back into the plush couch, holding her breath.
       “You’ve gotten rave reviews. Bravo.” The interviewer said.  Emie recognized her as Karla Maccow, a frequent reporter for the show.  Tom grinned and looked thankful.  Emie was happy to see that the show was doing so well, and that he seemed so pleased with it.  She hadn’t heard much about it, mostly out of choice.  But she’d heard through the grape vine that it was selling out every night.
       “Thank you, bless you.” He said softly with a little laugh.  It had been so long since she’d heard that laugh.
       “So, how has life been for you recently? To be honest, you were in all the tabloids for quite some time.” Karla said, putting on a rather serious demeanor.  Tom smiled, but it didn’t quite go to his eyes.  He gave a little laugh, and Emie could tell he wasn’t completely comfortable.  It was the laugh he used only when he was working—pleasant, a bit on edge and anxious, but polite.
       “Life is good.” He said simply.  “The play has kept me busy.  I don’t pay much attention to the tabloids.” He said diplomatically.  Emie watched him put his hands together, interlacing his fingers slightly and gently pushing on his thumbs, alternating between hands.  She’d seen him do this before.  He was anxious. 
       “Well, I hope so. I’m glad to hear that.” Karla said, nodding.  “It’s just that right after your best friend, Chris Worth’s wedding to Lucia Harris, there were tons of rumors circulating about Chris’ sister in law, Emeline, and you.  Inquiring minds wants to know.  You and Emie have been mum on the subject.” Karla grinned.  Emie bit her lip, feeling everything start to slow down.
       Tom was quiet for a moment, and then he sat forward a bit.  Emie could see how uncomfortable he was.
       “I, um, hmm.” He said, shifting in his seat and giving a nervous laugh and tilting his head slightly.  “Karla, I don’t really like to chat about my private life.” He said, flashing a brilliant smile.  Karla nodded, trying to seem understanding under that cloying exterior.  “But I do want to address that whole thing.”  Tom clasped his hands together, and Emie watched him clench his fists. 
       “Please do, Tom.  The floor is yours.” Karla said, enjoying it way too much. 
       “Thank you.” Tom crossed his arms and frowned a bit, the space between his eyebrows furrowing.  “Emie is a great friend of mine, she’s really one of my closest friends.” He said softly.  Emie was barely breathing.  “But, eh, people are a bit confused about the nature of our relationship.  I love and respect her dearly.  She’s a fantastic woman and a true talent as an author.” Tom smiled at Karla. A smile that still avoided his eyes.  He then turned a bit, and looked right at the camera.  “But I’m single. Em and I have never been anything more than friends.  I hope, that when the time comes, and there’s something to write home about, I will.  That’s all I’ll say about the subject.” He looked back at Karla but the damage was done.
       It hit like a tractor trailer.  Emie felt numb all over, her chest seemed to seize up.  She deserved it.  She deserved his words.  Not so much of a lie, but a bit too much truth.  Their brief relationship seemed to be summed up so easily.  It hurt to hear him say it.  And to hear him say it so boldly and publicly. 
       Why had Lucia told her to watch this? There obviously hadn’t been any interview with Chris.
       Emie turned off the television.  She stared at her hands, watching them shake slightly.  Would this ever not hurt?  She sat on the couch for a minute, feeling somewhat immobile.  She let his words sink in.  He wasn’t a vindictive person.  He wasn’t vengeful.  She didn’t think he was trying to hurt her.  Perhaps he was just tired of all the rumors.  Perhaps he was just trying to move on.  She thought of how she had tried to move on.  She thought of her terrible date with James and how she couldn’t stop thinking of Tom. 
       Tucking her legs under her, she mindlessly went back to sorting through the mail.  She didn’t know what to do anymore, so she did anything she could to clear her head.  She grabbed a letter addressed to her, tearing it open.  It was a letter from her lawyer, stating that the case against Kevin would be dropped.  Kevin had agreed to hand over and destroy any files, photos or videos he had of her.  Emie knew all of this already.  It had been an amazing Christmas present.  Michael had called her a few days earlier, telling her the news.  The letter was just a formality.  She looked down at the crisp white paper and typed black letters.  If she had only known this would end this way.  Maybe she wouldn’t have reacted as she had.  So much out of fear.
       She should have been completely elated knowing the nightmare with Kevin was over.  Instead, she just felt empty.  She crumpled the paper, throwing it toward the fireplace.  It hit the brick wall, and bounced back, rolling onto the floor.  Emie sighed and grabbed the brown package that had been sent to her.
       She guessed it was something from her Aunt, though it was rather plainly wrapped and Erica normally had a pension for the dramatics.  She quickly unwrapped it, peeling back the rough brown packing paper.  She paused for a second when she realized what it was.  Quickly then, she tore off the rest of the paper and stared at the book in her hands.
       Jane Eyre. An illustrated copy complete with wood cut prints.  She had seen this book before.  She had held this book before.  In Nan’s, when she had been there with Tom.  She had wanted to buy it that day, but she had run out before she’d had the chance.  Emie fumbled with the book, turning it over in her hands, and then sifting through the packaging quickly, looking for a card.  She knew who it was from.  Her heart was begging her to believe it was from Tom but she didn’t see a message anywhere.  She couldn’t be sure.
       She stared at the book, running her hands over the smooth, dark green cover.  It was old, and the lettering was embossed gold.  She opened it slowly, and there on the first page, was a small slip of paper. 
       “Happy Christmas, Em. 
       All my love, T.”
       Emie stared at the paper for a moment, and then without thinking she grabbed her phone.  She dialed hurriedly, her heart racing and nearly beating out of her chest.  She fumbled, the paper shaking in her trembling hand.  She waited as her phone rang, and then connected.
       “Hello?” She said, her voice shaky. “Yes, I need to flight to London.  The next possible flight, please.” She said, feeling courage rush through her.  She couldn’t let the fear hold her back anymore.  Any of the fear.  She had to find Tom.  She needed to see him, even if it were for the last time.  And then, no matter what happened, she would let it all go.