❛ 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 DIDN'T SPEAK TO HEATH, even if it was 2008 now. A new year to celebrate didn't make up for the last year of misery. It had been a month since she saw him, and though he called her everyday, she truly didn't care to talk.
Jake had moved into his new apartment, and was more than happy to let Lennon stay with him. He went with her to all her doctor appointments, went and got her food whenever she wanted, and most importantly stuck by her side through the vomit and crying. It was really all she asked for, just proper company.
He hadn't been able to go and get Lennon's boxes that she had packed up at her apartment. Which meant she had basically been wearing his clothes for the last month, but he didn't mind. It was funny to see her in his hoodies and joggers.
Lennon didn't usually leave Jake's apartment alone on the regular, the two usually went out and about with one another, but she finally had the courage to leave. She didn't tell him where she was going, just that she wanted to go for a walk.
So as Lennon turned the corner on Jake's street she continued heading south taking another left onto Broome Street. She used her key to enter the building, going into the elevator before one of the lobby workers tried talking to her.
When the doors open she was surprised to find that her boxes had remained untouched and in the same place she last saw them.
"Alright, Mr. Ledger, one week from today I will be back. Take care of yourself," Diana, Heath's massage therapist could be heard from where Lennon stood.
She entered the living room where the older woman offered her a small smile, "Lennon, so glad to see you. The pregnancy glow is radiating off of you."
Lennon smiled, "thank you, Diana, nice to see you." The woman nodded and left without another word.
Heath's heavy footsteps echoed as he walked down the stairs, stopping like he was looking at a ghost as Lennon stood in front him. He walked over to her placing his hand on her now protruding stomach, and his other on her cheek.
He wasn't wearing a shirt, and his gym shorts were riding low on his hips, and his hair in the messy bun made Lennon want to take him right there, but she knew that wasn't right. A part of her really didn't care if it wasn't right because she had been deprived of anything sexual for the last month, but she was too adamant about proving him wrong.
She stared at his chest, becoming consumed with the body oils that glistened against his skin. But she quickly pushed him away from her, getting overwhelmed.
"I didn't come here for this, I came to get some clothes." Lennon walked past him and went upstairs, going to their room with him following right behind her.
The curtains in their room were closed shut, and the comforter was only unmade on Lennon's side of the bed. Her record player was playing a Nick Drake record, one she didn't recall them owning.
"Who are you staying with?" Heath questioned. He followed her into their closet, watching as she quickly packed things into her Louis Vuitton bag.
"Jake." She answered shortly.
"Okay... so you've been sleeping with Jake?"
Lennon dropped the bag on the closet floor, staring at Heath with her hands on her hips.
"Are you being dead fucking serious?"
He shrugged his shoulders, "it's a serious question, are you sleeping in the same bed as another man while you're pregnant with my child?"
Lennon pushed him backwards, his back hitting the closet door, "you're so fucking pathetic for saying that. What is wrong with you? Seriously."
"I don't want you staying with him, I want you staying here. I don't want you staying at another mans house while you are pregnant with my child, it isn't right."
"Listen," she laughed, "this baby may have your DNA, it may be your sperm, but you can believe me when I say this isn't your kid if you aren't going to be here to act like a father."
"How am I supposed to do that when you won't even answer my calls, Lennon?"
"I'm not answering any calls from you until I see Manhattan Rehab Center run across my caller ID." She snapped. "Fuck you and your meaningless bullshit calls, I told you your sorry's mean nothing to me, so stop it."
"I'm working on it, I even talked to Michelle about it, why can't you just give me some time–"
"Heath, because we don't have any time left! You're a fucking addict, how am I supposed to know that you're going to be alive and well tomorrow to even make it to a rehab center? I can tell by your eyes you're fucking high right now!" She left the closet and headed into their bathroom, pushing past him when he tried to stand in front of the doorway.
"Move," she pushed against him, slyly ducking underneath him to open the vanity cabinet. She grabbed his toiletry bag, standing a few feet away from him.
"Lennon give me my bag," Heath stepped forward as she unzipped it.
Lennon shook her head, "wow."
She pulled out seven small vials of what she was assuming had cocaine in them. She shook her head furiously, she really couldn't fucking believe it.
"I've had those in there, I swear, I didn't buy them– you can check my phone," Heath pleaded but it was too late, she had violently thrown the glasses on the ground, cocaine and glass covered the marble floor.
Staring at him she laughed, and without another word she took her bag and left their apartment.
