Two words. Three vowels. Four consonants. Seven letters. It can either cut you open to the core and leave you in ungodly pain, or it can free your soul and lift a tremendous weight off your shoulders: It's over. But if you have the courage to say go...
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Begrudgingly, Freddie watched the silk robe shift as Estella dressed herself in it, making her curves move and flow with a living, kinetic poetry.
He hated being interrupted and would very well strangle the person knocking at the door.
"Ms. Sorino, I'm so sorry to bother you," Eleanor pardoned. "There's a guest downstairs for Mr. Mercury."
Estella's brow furrowed in the lamplight and Freddie turned around heading to the door frame, bewildered where fans had followed from this time. "Who?"
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Tingles shot down Freddie's spine when he looked downstairs over the railing. His heart dropped and the blood left his face. He stopped breathing.
Down stairs in the doorway hair, framing her face, eyes wide like a doe's. Puffy tears collected in the corners of Mary's eyes and were ready to drop at any moment.
Her mouth was twisted in anger, one cheek twitching nervously like a rabbit's nose sniffing danger on the wind. Desperate to know what he'd done. Desperate to know why it happened. Rage cut deeply.
Freddie darted down the stairs, trying to think of something, anything to say. But couldn't force the words past his lips. His eyes darted around the mansion, looking for an escape as he approached her in the foyer.
Desire dissolved into guilt when he came to face her. His eyes said that he was sorry, and that he made a huge mistake. But his mouth said 'It's not what it looks like.'
Mary threw the same newspaper at him that they'd just fought about the other day as if the photographs of Freddie and Estella at the party hadn't been incriminating enough. "So you like famous whores? She was pretty easy to find."
Estella felt her chest tighten and she gripped the spiral staircase railing following down the stairs, frozen as panic swelled from within, trying not to cry like an unprotected little girl.
Freddie reached for Mary and she pulled back shaking her head, tears rolling down her cheeks. "Don't jump to conclusions," Freddie reached for her again and clasped his hands around her wrists.
He knew Mary had been expecting something like this. Her smile from yesterday, today was an empty slash across her face.
Tears continued to quiver out her eyes; her hands were balled into fists in front of her. Freddie wanted to hug her, to make everything go away. But he dared not yet, not when she was still this upset. "You lied to me."
Freddie spoke slowly, looking directly into her eyes as he tried to put together an explanation. His mind raced in circles. "We saw a cat on the street. He'd been abandoned. Dear, he needed our help–so you know–so we took him to the vet of course. My god I was going to bloody keep him" he chuckled nervously. "But she insisted on keeping him. So we brought him here to Estella's house. She's keeping him. And this is the cat's home now."
"...You expect me to believe that...?" Mary's voice sounded like she'd taken a knife through her heart.
"You know I would be able to bear leaving an abandoned cat alone dear I just had to make sure he was alright– he's got a beautiful new home now hasn't he? Look:" he pointed out the orchard just outside the window, and the garden is full of rose bushes. "And he has two other cats now to keep him company. Right?? Two other cats live here too?" He turned to a baffled Eleanor behind him, who instinctively shook her head. "Yes--yes. Two other cats live here. And a new one today."
"See? That's it–It was nothing. Nothing. This was nothing–nothing–like I told you, there's nothing to worry about. It was nothing, like I said. No need to worry dear– okay? Let's not overreact.. This was nothing. I promise." Reassured, words hollow, empty.
Mary's eyes narrowed at Eleanor, a scrutinizing attempt to determine whether or not Freddie was lying.
"It was nothing. Nothing." Freddie emphasized. "Nothing." He let out a little breath and a light laugh.
Estella's mind swirled in overdrive. The moment she opened her mouth to finally speak the words scattered through her brain like a flock of birds.
"Yes." Estella finally spoke, on autopilot, robotically. "It was nothing."
She shouldn't have thought of this as anything.
But she did.
She was mistaken.
She wasn't anything.
She mustered up a simple smile. "I feel so awful for worrying you, Mary. I know how.. disheartening it can be to worry about the man you love, with someone else. But I can assure you, like he said, it is nothing."
I am nothing.
"You know how this business can be–Just business of course--I've shared a photographer with Freddie who can be great for you, really capture you,"
I am nothing.
"I've taken up enough of your night with business and cat-tery. You two get home safely. Please let Eleanor know if you need anything."
I am nothing.
Eyes brimming with unshed tears, Estella rocked back and forth, apologetically shifting her whole body with her words for a final attempt at civility through a poignant appeal. Her mannerisms were practiced, like a lady of the court. They were beautiful, and it made Freddie's heart ache.
She excused herself with a graceful courtesy, dashing up the spiral staircase away before any other crippling words could possibly be spoken.
Each step felt heavy, a leaden resistance against her body.
Each step felt like a lead weight, as though she were walking through water, numb to everything around her.
It was like the wound in her heart opened up all over again.
