After All

Chapter 2: Fight or Flight

A/N: Hi Friends, I felt quite bad for leaving this story unfinished. I always hate when authors do that. I will admit that it is much more difficult than my other stories because of the current realities we witness, but I'll do my best to put a true Damie spin on things, serve up some angst and humor, but with a HEA. Thanks for encouraging me to to continue. I'm sorry I made you wait.

A glass of champagne appears in front of my face, handed to me by a grinning Shia. "Big sip, deep breath, and don't look back. He's still got his eyes clapped on you."

I drain half of the glass and resist the urge to burp. "God, why do I let that man get to me?!?" I take another sip and slip my hand through his arm. "Thanks, by the way." I tip my glass to him, "And for the rescue."

He chuckled and put a hand over mine. "You've saved my ass enough the last six months, I figured I owed you. Plus, I didn't want to see what a fire extinguisher would do to you gown, because trust me, that was the other option to douse the flames coming out of your eyes."

I sigh heavily and hand my now empty glass to a passing waiter. "Let's go find Zack. He must be missing us by now."

Shia laughed out loud, "Hardly! The man is a rock star! He's working the room like a wizard."

A happy smile replaces the tension around my mouth, "Well, in that case, let's go bask in his glory! I'm so proud of that kid."

"Dakota?" He waits for me to look up at him. "He's still watching. Want me to grab your ass or something?"

Cue my giggle snort. I bump my head against his shoulder, "Thanks, but I'm good. No sense playing any games with that one. He's made his choices. Nothing I do or say will change the course our history has taken."

"Are you trying to convince me or yourself? You and I both know that things aren't always how they appear."

I turn to him with a frown. "Three children, Shia. THREE. And no divorce or separation that I've ever heard of. I'd say that is a pretty clear picture."

"And he sees someone in a long-term relationship with a celebrity musician AND his children."

That gave me a moment's pause. "Yeah, well he isn't free to care, now is he. So he can take his misplaced jealousy and shove it up his misguided Irish arse."

He held up both hands, "Settle down there, tiger. If you want to fight, fight him. Not me."

I shake my head and put my hand back in the crook of his arm. "Oh Shia, I can fight with the best of them, but in this case there just isn't anything to fight for."

He leaned over to kiss the side of my head, "Whatever you have to tell yourself, Sweetheart."

And there she goes. She sashays away without a care in the world and sipping champagne with a smile on her face and yet another man on her arm. And here I stand ready to internally combust at the injustice of this entire situation. Goddammit, we belong together. We always have. My life is shit, but she doesn't know or care. And she is as golden as ever – with her pick of men, and it seems she is dangling at least two at the moment.

She doesn't even bother to glance back at me, and I know her moves well enough to know she is insulating herself and staying on the opposite side of the room from me, no matter where I go. I start mind twisting myself...is it good that she notices where I am if for no reason than to avoid me? Why does she feel the need to stay away from me...is she tempted?

God, I am pitiful. Fucking pitiful. I feel the immediate need to flee and get my head screwed on right. I have no idea what I'm going to do, but this little episode has convinced me that just rocking along in this rut is not it.

I spend the rest of the evening taking care of the business of publicity and networking, and trying not to look for her everywhere I turn. As I make my way to the men's room, I see Zack leaving. I step up to shake his hand, "Zack, hearty congratulations on Peanut Butter Falcon. I'm going to catch the screening tomorrow, but I've heard nothing but great things about the movie and about you."

He smiled a little awkwardly at me, but shook my hand. "You're Jamie, right?"

I nod, "Yes, Jamie Dornan. You and I have Dakota in common. She and I were in three movies together."

He smiled brighter, "I love Dakota. She is the best. I wish I could be with her every day."

I chuckle and put my hands in my pockets as I rock back on my heels, "Well, my friend, that is a common reaction to spending time with Dakota Johnson. You can't help but love her."

His smile dimmed and he put his own hands in his pockets, "You make her cry. If you loved her, you wouldn't make her cry."

My head snapped up. "I would never make her cry. I haven't even seen her for months."

He took a step closer to me and put a finger in my chest, "Your name makes her cry. She sees articles and gets google alerts and she cries. Your actions have consequences. Didn't anyone ever teach you that? So don't stand here and tell me you love her too."

I was just dressed down in the most effective way possible by someone who is considered by others to be mentally challenged. I immediately felt sick and made it to the loo just in time to retch for a solid three minutes.

Once I finished, I washed my face, rinsed with mouthwash, and made my way out of a rear exit – not able to face anyone else. Once in my hotel, the usual groupies are lingering, and I am tempted for all of five seconds. After all, I have no marriage, I have no Dakota, and I am a red-blooded male with sexual needs. But Zack's voice is ringing in my ears and I extricate myself politely and go to my room alone to ponder what to do next.