I Think I've Had Enough

Chapter 9: Starting now, I wish you never came into my world

Ellen Pompeo began to pace the ladies restroom in the Warner Brother's Production lobby. Her hands were starting to shake and she felt as if she was going to be sick. She studied her reflection in the mirror. Momentarily, she wondered if he would think she looked old now. Would she be too old for him, perhaps he had moved on to dating woman that were much younger. Not that she cared. "Uhh," she growled in frustration. How did she still care? He was still married, she had check into it months ago. That alone was ridiculous because she was still married.

She fixed a stray hair and reapplied her lipstick for the fourth time since she'd entered the bathroom. Ellen straightened her casual blue dress. Am I trying to hard... do I look like a washed up actress who's trying to find another break out role and start up an old affair with a past co-star?? Ellen, Stop it. You are beautiful, he's missed you. You don't need him. She glanced into the mirror one final time before exiting confidently.

Patrick's eyes were on the script as he spoke, "Here's my only problem Paul, I don't think—,"

He froze mid sentence. A paralyzing tingle swept over him. A painful force was drawing his eyes toward the door but he fought against it. He quickly lost, his eyes drifting toward the door. Her face seemed to glow in the doorway. She stood there, paralyzed in the same feeling. Ellen looked into his eyes. Her eyes were the sparkling green he remembered them to be. It was the very same sparkling green that his newly discovered daughter had inherited. Suddenly he was overcome with several emotions. He was terrified, and angry but most of all he was surprised.

"Ellen," he said in surprise. He was surprised by how quickly every long lost feeling came rushing back. As if they hadn't spent a moment apart. They had spent seven years apart, seven years of lies. He felt angry again.

"Hi," she said softly still not able to move from the doorway.

Patrick wanted to throw a chair across the room. He wanted to scream so loudly that they had to cut production and restart the scene on the lot across the street. He wanted to swing his hands violently into the air and ask her what the hell she was thinking but... he didn't. All he could say was, "I didn't realize you were going to be here today." That, was only half true, no one had come right out and told him she was going to be there but he'd had his suspicions.

"I invited her, I hope that was okay?" The director said lightly.

"Of course," Patrick smiled. "She is the leading lady after all."

"Have a seat Ellen," Patrick said coldly, without even standing to great her. "Actually, why don't you guys talk things through with Ellen? I think I'm pretty much finished here." He gathered his script and stood. He was too much of a funder for the director and other producers to challenge him.

But Ellen wasn't afraid anymore, and she was a little hurt, "That's it," she shrugged with a playful smile, "No hug or even a 'hello my favorite co-star... what have you been doing for the last seven years?' not even a 'I've missed you'?"

"Hello my favorite co-star," he said with as little emotion as humanly possible, "and I'm still waiting for you to tell me what the hell you've been doing for the last seven years." He walked toward the door, "Gentlemen, have a good day." Patrick slammed it hard behind him.

Ellen cleared her throat, her cheeks pinked with embarrassment. "I uh," Ellen hesitated, "I'm sorry." She took a second and pulled herself together. "So much for him being excited to work with me."