Worth Fighting For (A Michael Fassbender Fic)

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Tabitha holds the rag mag in her hand, reading the short article accompanying the incriminating photos of Michael with Kiersten.

"Michael Fassbender's Favorite Hotel? Definitely Hilltop.

Perennial bachelor and all around German-Irish dreamboat Michael Fassbender seems to have taken a liking to one particular chain of hotels! Or perhaps just the heiress behind them!

Sorry ladies (and gents), the dashing and devilishly handsome actor appears to be off the market! The London Dish has the exclusive photos of Michael and Hilltop Hotel's heiress, Kiersten Hill, in some rather cozy looking shots.

Twenty-nine year old Miss Hill is best known for causing Twitter wars with the likes of R&B diva Rihanna, and actress Lindsay Lohan. She appears to have charmed her way into Fassbender's heart. And judging by the photos, the feeling seems to be mutual! Steamy!"

I'm face down on the bed with the pillow over my head but I can hear every word. And every word pierces my heart. How did I let this happen to myself again? Am I cursed? I can't believe I fell for Michael's fake charm. Of course he doesn't love me. I was simply a rebound or a way of making Kiersten jealous enough to forgive him. If I close my eyes hard enough, maybe I'll find myself back in Chicago. Maybe I'll wake up and be home, in bed with my husband, and everything that's happened in the past few weeks will have been nothing more than a horrid nightmare. Ted will still love me and my Mom will still be around and I'll wake up and start getting ready for my shitty job. Fuck, I even miss annoying Tammy and her tattling on me whenever I'm late.

But no. I peer out from the pillow and I'm in Michael's bed. Tab is looking down at me with a frown.

"Fuck, Dani." Tab sits on the edge of the bed and removes my pillow. "What are you going to do?"

I can't even cry. I'm too mad to cry. Or maybe I'm all dried out. My life has been the worst roller coaster of a ride ever lately. Maybe, like being on a roller coaster, I've exhausted my vocal cords. Only instead of no longer being able to talk from excess screaming, I can't cry anymore.

I sit up next to Tab and she places a friendly arm around my shoulder. I take the magazine from her and look over the pictures again. They look happy. Really happy.

"Wanna call him?" Tab suggests.

I shake my head. "They're in New York. Together. I should just... leave. Let's leave."

"If that's what you want. Where should we go?"

"Anywhere, Tab." I drop the magazine to the floor and lay my head against her shoulder. "Just get me away from here."

The next morning, Tab helps me pack up my clothes, all of them. I try my best to grab everything I came with. I beg her not to talk to Benedict about Michael. At least not yet. We stash my belongings at his place and hop on the next available flight out of Heathrow, to Germany.

•••••

"Are you sure you don't want to talk to him yet? He's been blowing up your phone for the last five hours straight, Dani." Tab holds my phone out to me. I gave it to her to hang onto last night. Otherwise I would answer every single time Michael called or texted.

I toss back the last of my lager and swallow it down with disgust. Beer is definitely an acquired taste.

"Give it here," I hold out my hand and Tab pulls her hand back.

"Eh, maybe you should sober up a bit first," she laughs.

"Oh fuck that. Give it here," I shake my hand in front of her until finally, she reluctantly places my phone into my palm.