the scent of heat → r . taylor ( COMPLETED )

twenty five

1985

"So you really aren't going to do Live Aid? It's just gone?"

Adeline was laying in bed, the sheets covering her naked body as Roger adjusted the collar of his shirt in the mirror.

"Honestly, I don't know. Miami gave us each a ring last night, said Freddie wanted to talk to us again. Can't say I've got a good feeling about it," he said, turning back to face her. He walked back over to the side of the bed, sitting down and taking her hand in his. She smiled as she gave his hand a squeeze, propping herself up a bit with her free hand.

"Oh, give him a chance. No one gave you grief when you worked on your solo albums. The least you can do is go into it with an open mind," she said gently, leaning up to kiss his cheek.

"I know. But can I at least be late? Just this once?" he asked, biting his bottom lip gently as his eyes glanced over her figure.

"You can be a little late. Long enough to kiss me, but then you have to go. You're just petty, not a diva," she said, cupping his face with one hand. He leaned into her touch, holding her wrist gently with a small smile.

"That can change. I could be the biggest diva you'd ever met. I'll lock myself in another cupboard if I have to," he said, moving a bit to hover over her as she laughed.

"You do that, and I swear I'll leave you there," she teased, leaning up a bit to meet him halfway in a kiss. Her thumb brushed over his cheek ever so gently, and the cool of her wedding band felt comforting against his skin.

"You couldn't leave me there. Even if you tried," he whispered once he pulled back. His forehead was resting against hers, and their eyes remained shut.

"You underestimate my willpower. But we can talk about this later. You need to head out, before you're really late.

"You said I could be late."

"I only said a little late. Now go."

***

It was a few hours later, and with Adeline washed and dressed, she was in the kitchen, cleaning up her mess from dinner, which she ate alone. She heard the front door open and shut, but she merely glanced over her shoulder when a grinning Roger entered the kitchen. He made his way over to her, wrapping both arms around her waist as he leaned around her, planting a kiss on her cheek.

"We're doing the concert. We got a spot," he said, holding her close to his chest.

"That's great, Rog. Really," she said, looking out of the window above the sink. Behind her, Roger sighed and let his chin fall onto her shoulder while his thumbs traced over her navel.

"I'm sorry I missed dinner. The four of us were out celebrating and planning a rehearsal schedule for the concert. We're a bit rusty, you know," he said.

"Mhm." She looked back down and continued washing dishes, blinking a few times to keep tears from rolling down her cheeks.

"Here, let me finish up," he said, letting go of her and moving to stand beside her.

"I'm already done," she said as she turned off the water, threw the towel down, and left the kitchen. Roger looked down into the sink, frowning. There were still several dirty dishes in the basin, but he shook his head and followed after her.

"Addy. Addy! Talk to me, please!" he called after her as she retreated into their bedroom and shut the door. He went up the stairs, two at a time, but when he tried to open the door, it wouldn't budge.

"Addy! Open the door!" he said, shaking the door handle. Inside, he could hear her hiccupping, and he jiggled the doorknob a second time. When it didn't budge, he sighed and pressed his back against the door, sliding down until he was sitting against it.

"Addy, if you won't open the door, will you at least talk to me through it?" he asked, resting his head against the wood. On the other side, he heard the door move, the wood creaking a bit as more weight was added to it.

"You broke your promise. Again," she whispered, her voice hoarse.

"I-I know I did, and I didn't mean to," he said, shifting a bit to press his hand against the door.

"You said that the last time. I'm just starting to realize that you don't get it."

"Get what? What don't I get, Addy?"

"That my trust in you erodes every time you do this. You break promise after promise, and it makes me feel like I'm going crazy. I feel like what we have has taken a backseat to what you want."

Roger felt her weight leave the door, and he nearly fell back once it opened. When he looked up, something in his chest twinged. Adeline was in the doorway, her suitcase in her hand.

"No, baby, Addy," he said, scrambling to his feet.

"Roger, just don't. I... I called Abby earlier, and I made arrangements to stay with her for a little while," she whispered.

"How long is a little while?" His voice was hoarse, and his eyes began to water.

"However long it takes for you to decide what you want. I know what I want. And what I want is a family, my career, and honest from the man I love. You never make time for us anymore, and for once, I'd like for my desires to come first," she said.

"They can. You know I want a family, too. We've been talking about it for so long."

"Talking and never doing anything about it. Whenever I came to you, you said you couldn't make time at the moment. And I understood. You were at the height of your career, and I always supported you. I was so proud of you, and I still am. But I'm tired of waiting for you to remember that you're married to me, not your work." Adeline tucked her hair behind her ear and squeezed passed Roger, who reached out to grab her arm, but let his fingertips brush against her skin.

"Don't go, please," he whispered, a single tear rolling down his cheek.

"Why? So I can spend more nights alone, have more dinners that were made for two by myself, and overthink to the point of vomiting? I love you, Roger. I love you so much. But right now, I need to do something I haven't done in a long time, and that's put myself first."

Roger watched as she made her way down the stairs, and he gripped the bannister with both hands.

"Do... do you have a ride?" he asked.

"I'll call a cab, but thank you," she said, and with that, she opened the front door and stepped outside, closing it behind her.

"Don't leave, Addy," Roger whispered again, sinking to his knees with his hands still on the bannister. Through the window, he watched her walk down their driveway as tears dripped down his cheeks, and his stomach churned. The house was so much quieter as he forced himself to get up, and he carefully made his way back downstairs. He threw open the front door and nearly stumbled over himself going down the steps. He ran down their driveway and looked down the street, prepared to drop to his knees in public, begging for her to come back, but she was nowhere to be seen. Instead, a cab was in the distance, then it crossed into the horizon, and his wife was gone.