Above Us Only Sky (Paul McCartney/Beatles Fan Fiction)

Chapter 32 - Goodbye My Love Goodbye

Paul stood in the middle of the bedroom, hands in the pockets of his maroon trousers, surveying the mess. For once he seemed to be at a loss for words.

"You think they came in through the bathroom window?" he finally said in disbelief. "Are you sure you didn't leave a door open, or—"

"You were the last one to leave!" Marisol shot back.

"Alright, alright. Calm down."

"What? You can't possibly be telling me to calm down!" Her voice sounded shrill to her ears.

He pressed his lips together and turned away from her. "I told you we needed to replace Mr. and Mrs. Kelly."

"Paul, that is not the issue. We don't need MORE people running through the house. We need LESS."

Marisol crossed her arms over her chest, disgusted with the whole situation. Now they were at each other, and the fans had their wish. They'd finally disrupted their lives so much that the newlyweds spent their precious free time arguing instead of rolling around in bed together.

Paul's somber gaze lingered on the empty night table. The look on his face made her heart soften. She crossed the room and stood in front of him, resting her forehead on his shoulder.

"I'm sorry about the picture of you and your dad," she said. "I know it was important to you."

Paul's arms went around her. He pulled her close, a proper deep hug with their hearts pressing together, and it was like an immediate mood stabilizer. Enveloped in his scent, she could almost feel the stress leave her body, replaced by those magical bonding chemicals that coursed through her every time he held her. His hugs were like therapy. It was only when he wasn't holding her, the other twenty-three and a half hours of the day, when her life went to shit.

"I don't care about the clothes," Paul was saying, his voice rumbling in her ear. "They can keep the clothes. It's the pictures gone that makes this such bollocks."

Marisol nodded against his chest.

"I'll talk to the girls and let them know how unhappy I am. I think I can get the pictures and camera back. We'll need to sort out a live-in housekeeper again, straightaway. I'll see if Brian can find someone trustworthy." His arms tightened around her. "It will be all right, love. You'll see."

Leaning back, she tilted her head to look at him. "Do you mean you think you'll get the pictures back and we'll hire a housekeeper and everything will be right as rain again?"

Uncertainty crept into his expression. "These last few days without the Kellys have been a shambles. Don't you think having help would be a good thing?" He said the words tentatively, as if testing the idea.

They stared at each other across a ringing silence. His arms fell away. "What? What is that look on your face?"

"You just don't get it." She shook her head sadly. "Paul, I can't live this way. I feel violated. I'm scared to walk out the front door alone. I have no privacy. We pulled the curtains closed on all the front rooms when I moved in last month, are we going to keep them closed for the next thirty years? Is this how you want to raise our daughter?"

He took a step back, his expression going from puzzled to thunderous. "Well fuck me. Anything else about me you're unhappy with?"

"I'm not...this isn't about you, or about you and me...not at all."

She took a step closer to him, worried that she'd said too much, needing to feel his arms around her again.

He took another step back, narrowing his eyes. The room darkened as a cloud moved across the sun, and the temperature seemed to drop ten degrees. In the chilly silence, she could almost picture a tumbleweed rolling across the room.