From Tokyo With Love - A Norman Reedus Fanfic Romance

Chapter 25 - New York Minute

NORMAN

Tokyo + six months

"One more, Daddy....one more...."

Ming screamed with laughter as I helicoptered him around my living room.

"If he throws up? Then you'll only have yourself to blame"  Helena chided me with a smile.

My arms gently lowered him to his feet and he staggered around dizzily. Before collapsing against the couch in a fit of giggles.

I moved into my apartment last week. Almost before the ink had dried on the settlement documents. Still have a few boxes to unpack but they can wait until tomorrow.

This is the first weekend that Ming and I have spent together in New York. And we've had the most awesome time.

He and Helena finally moved over from Denmark last month. So they can both have time to settle into their own place before he starts pre-kindergarten.

Their apartment is over in West Village whilst mine is in Little Italy. Only a dozen or so blocks separate our new abodes. Which means sharing custody will no longer have the tyranny of distance like it did before.

Going from lovers to parents to good friends has really worked in our favour. And Ming doesn't seem the worse for wear because of it.

Hel is now writing on the whiteboard I've nailed to the kitchen wall. Important dates for Ming's school, plus the schedule of weeks or weekends he'll be with me.

"One month at a time"  She announced.

My head is walloped by an invisible shovel, full of some fucking serious déjà vu.

I punch it away with force. Concentrated instead on Helena's voice as she outlined the plans for Ming's first day at school on Monday.

We're going together. To lean on each other as our little man spreads his wings on his first flight away from us.

And I know I'll probably cry shitloads more than her. Aint ashamed of it either  🥲

*

Jumped into the cab and escorted them back to their joint. After kissing them both goodbye I set out for the walk home.

Want to get familiar with my new neighborhood and the best way I know how....is to get lost.

"Playtime with Ming is over. Now it's playtime for Norman's pain"  I announce to myself before lighting a cigarette and striding across the traffic to Canal Street.

Sean calls me an emotional masochist. Says I'm addicted to the agony inflicted when I fuck-over my own head. Holding onto an impossible hope.

And I own it fully....ain't ashamed of that either. I wallow in it and torture myself with pride.

Filming wrapped a little while ago. Took three months and I had to return last week for some scene reshoots. It'd been a pretty intensive gig, but at least a good portion of that was spent with my mind on work.

And not on her.

I stop and grab a coffee, sip it down as I continue walking. Thinking....remembering....

Still no phone call.

It's been six months. Why should I expect anything to change now?

But as Sean said....I'm an emotional masochist. Simply can't give up on my hope, no matter how much it's fucking killing me.

Hideo has been true to his word. By keeping me up to date whenever he manages to get any intel on what's happening.

He hasn't had any contact with her either. But his friends in Melbourne came up with some info about three months ago. And when I heard it?

My heart broke all over again at what she must've gone through.

Ollie's Dad had suffered a stroke.

It happened the same day that I flew out. That's why she left Minnie's and went back to Australia in such a hurry. That's probably why she didn't ring me when I asked her to. And why she didn't ring me for our first few weeks apart.

But it doesn't explain why she hasn't contacted me since?

She could've rung and told me herself. At least let me know what was going down so I wouldn't tie myself up in knots. Not knowing what was happening....to her.

Kept telling myself that she didn't want to worry me with it. Knowing I couldn't do much to help while I was in Toronto, filming.

'Nah fuck it'  I thought angrily.

She said it herself. Phones ring....texts and emails get sent.

At the very least I could've helped her by just talking or listening, if nothing else? Being on the end of the phone would be a shitload better than total silence....surely!

She knows I love her beyond reason and will always be there for her in any way that I can. She fucking knows that....

DOESN'T SHE?

But there's still been no phone calls, no emails. No nothing.

I know she was....is....close to her Dad. What happened to him would've been devastating for her. Especially as she was already upset that we'd be away from each other. The fact that I'd already left without getting the opportunity to say goodbye in person.

But that still doesn't explain this total silence.

Ollie loves me. I know that for a fucking fact. It was in her voice, her eyes and her face. Everything she said and did.

So, if she truly loves you Reedus....then why doesn't she call?

Hideo's last update had been two weeks ago.

She'd hired a manager and he's flying over to Tokyo to meet with Hid and his team. Introduce himself and some of the new staff who are now working for Ollie's company.

Still no contact with Ollie herself. But she'd told this 'Trey'  guy to pass on her love. To Hideo, that is.

No mention of me.

*

I suck on a final cigarette before stomping into my building and taking the lift up to my floor. It's nice and quiet here. And so far I love the neighborhood. Feels like home already.

Just a couple of final things I need to do.

After hanging my jacket on its hook and kicking off my shoes in the entryway? I stalk into the spare bedroom. Grab one specific box and a large rectangular parcel.

Throw both onto the rug in my bedroom before ripping off the bubble wrap.

Takes me a few attempts before the frame is level, on the wall facing my bed. I then dig into the box and pull out the other two, placing them on my bedside table. The rest of the box contains books that I stack on a shelf near the window.

Throwing myself down on the mattress, I survey the room. And nod with a relieved sigh.

It's done....everything is finally in its place.

I stare for a long time at the blown-up photo on the wall.

Shades of pink and grey. With Ollie, reaching her hand up to touch the cherry blossoms framing her. Flowers caught in her hair. And a mist of pollen floating in the rays of sunlight that had somehow managed to find their way through the branches.

Rolling over, I drink in the other photos.

The first taken of her as she dozed....seconds before I kissed her for the first time.

The other, when she woke in bed. The morning after we first made love.

She loves me....I know she does.  She told me and I still believe her.

I stumble into the lounge. Pour myself a whisky and return. Slump down to sit on the edge of my bed.

As I drown my sorrows while drowning in her images.

Cheers....you fucking masochist!