From Tokyo With Love - A Norman Reedus Fanfic Romance

Chapter 25 - New York Minute

NORMAN

Tokyo + six months

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

Ming is screaming with laughter as I helicopter him around my living room.

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

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

I moved into the apartment last week. Almost before the ink 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 had the most awesome time.

He and Helena finally moved over from Denmark last month. So they can both have time to settle in 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 homes. Which means sharing custody no longer has the tyranny of distance like it once did.

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

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

"One month at a time"  She announced.

I was whacked around the head by some serious fucking déjà vu.

I push it down with force. Concentrate instead on Helena's voice as she outlines the plans for Ming's first day at school on Monday.

Both of us are going....to lean on each other as our little man spreads his wings on his first flight away from us. I know I'll probably cry more than her.

Aint ashamed of it either  🥲

*

Jumped in the cab and saw them back to their place. After kissing them both goodbye I set out for the walk home. Want to get to know 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 told myself, lighting a cigarette and striding across the traffic to Canal Street.

Sean calls me a masochist and I own it fully....ain't ashamed of that either. I wallow in it with pride.

Filming wrapped a little while ago. Took three months and I had to return last week for some scene reshoots. It's 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, drinking it 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 I said....I'm a masochist. Just can't give up on that hope. No matter how much it fucking hurts.

Hideo has been true to his word. Keeps 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 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 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 never contacted me after that?

She could've rung and told me herself? At least let me know what was happening so I didn'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....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 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 really loved you Reedus....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 that 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 him. To Hideo that is.

No mention of me.

*

I had 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 have to do.

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

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

Took 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 finally, 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 that frame her. Flowers caught in her hair. And a mist of pollen streaming in the rays of sun that managed to find their way through the branches.

Rolling over, I drink in the other photos.

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

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

She loves me....I know she does.  She told me and I believed her.

I stumble into the lounge. Pour myself a whisky and return. Slump down to sit on the edge of my bed as I drink....and stare at her images.

Cheers, you fucking masochist!