❛ i carry your heart with me,
i am never without it.
here is the deepest secret nobody knows,
here is the root of the root and the bud of the bud
and the sky of the sky of a tree called life, which grows
higher than soul can hope or mind can hide...
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LENNON MADE SURE TO BE AT THE AIRPORT for Heath's arrival back in the city. She patiently waited at the gate, making sure to remain as discreet as possible. Somehow there was hundreds of paparazzi waiting at the entrance of JFK, though she managed to get by them undetected.
She was wearing a Yankees baseball cap, and a large black winter coat, covering her small baby bump that was finally getting noticeable. Her arms were crossed over her chest as she stood still at the gate. People had just started walking towards baggage claim, and within five minutes she was able to spot Heath's long brown hair.
Running over to him she quickly wrapped her arms around his torso, "I had to wear a disguise, there's a bunch of paps outside."
Heath smiled, he held her and lifted her off the ground slightly, "thought you were a fan for a minute, didn't recognize you with the cap."
Lennon squeezed him tighter, not wanting to let go. She noticed the scent of his usual cologne, and it made her feel a sense of comfort.
"We've got a lot to talk about," she let Heath go, beginning to walk towards the baggage claim with him right behind her.
"Can't it wait?" Heath reached out to grab her hand, but she pulled away. "Really?"
"Really."
—
By the time they made it Broome street, Heath had practically fallen asleep in the taxi. Lennon shook him when they made it to the apartment, getting out she began to head upstairs without waiting for him.
"Thanks, buddy," Heath handed the cab driver money before grabbing his suitcase from the trunk. He rushed inside, trying to reach the elevator in time, but Lennon quickly hit the button to shut the door.
"She can't be fucking serious," he rolled his eyes, impatiently pressing the elevator button until it finally reopened.
When he entered the apartment he was confused to find cardboard boxes piled in the hallway. He dropped his suitcase and quickly hurried into the living room where Lennon was sat watching Friends.
"So, you're gonna talk to me now, are ya'?" Heath walked in front of the TV, placing his hands on his waist.
"Yeah, we can talk now," Lennon sat up on the couch, "you need to go to rehab."
"Here we go—"
"Don't even try to fucking argue back, you have no authority to try and act like you didn't scare me into thinking you were dying that night." Lennon shook her head beginning to grow frustrated.
She rehearsed her speech with Jake a few times, but now she was just going from the heart, "I don't care if it was just alcohol poising, because God only knows that the next time you call me talking like that you won't wake up again. I'm sick of this, Heath... I've lost track of how many times you've lied to me about the pills you take."
