She's America's sweetheart. He's a world famous musician, translating personal heartbreak to golden lyrics. A serendipitous encounter along the coast of Cannes sparks a passionate and unexpected romance that will leave the world in awe.
"I loved yo...
I continue to pace back and forth within the sheets, feeling cold and warm at the same time. The hours in the night come and go, yet a certain man never arrives. I try his cell once more as the clock hits half past four, causing me to worry even more once he doesn't pick up the call. I stare blankly at the ceiling, watching the fan circle around and around in order to be rid of some of the suffocating air in the room. Sugar sleeps on the now empty side of the bed, waking for a brief moment, allowing me to see an ocean filled with curiosity and ambition. She can sense the sadness on my face as she steps forward, licking my nose in order to provide some relief.
"It'll be okay sweetheart, he'll be home soon," I whisper, rubbing her belly until she falls back asleep.
And as a new hour arrives, I decide to reach for my phone again, searching the web for an answer. I never do this, despising that anyone has the ability to simply explore social media for our whereabouts and other personal information. Yet, this time, I fear for his safety as he hasn't answered a single call all day. Unfortunately, the first photo that appears on my feed once I look up his name, is just as I feared. He's spotted with her, drinking at a lavish after party. Photo after photo, he's lost in temptation, enjoying seduction in a glass. I don't allow such glimpses to decrease the amount of trust I have for such a kind man. He wouldn't ever hurt me, that's a fact. He's simply enjoying a night with newly created friends. I only hope he knows what he's doing as people in Hollywood tend to wear many faces.
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As I toss and turn, I hear a slight and continuous knocking, causing Sugar to bark in response. She marches towards the front door as I groan, burying my face underneath the pillow to hide the newly present sunlight that threatens to exist from within the curtains. As she doesn't decide to stop at any given time, I force myself out of the bed, wiping away the sleep from my eyes. And when I look through the small peephole of the door, I witness a rather exhausted musician on the other side. I open the door without a word, viewing his current drunken and sloppy state. He gives me a half smile, filled with regret and guilt as I keep my arms crossed over my chest. He doesn't attempt to step inside at first, chewing on his mouth, glancing down at the tiles on the floor. The smell of tequila and whiskey is made present, as does the evidence of cigars, causing me to sigh in disappointment. He fell for the temptation. They tried to darken and burn the lights of my rainbow. They tried to dim his color, providing me with nothing but a wash of grey.
I speak first, breaking the uncomfortable silence that dances between us. I despise it. It's never supposed to be uncomfortable for us because he's home for me. "I was worried about you. You didn't answer my calls," I say, exhaling heavily, witnessing the way he looks back at me.
"I'm sorry, my phone died. Then it got too late and I didn't want to wake you. I forgot my key before I left, I'm so sorry."
"I was denied entrance, you know. I tried to come to the concert."
