Something pulls me out from a deep sleep causing me to become completely disorientated. Immediately I turn over to wrap my arms around Ollie and snuggle back down into sleep, too tired to work out where I am, but he isn’t there. My heart thuds numbly as I remember why. I had completely forgotten that I’m in Emmie’s spare bedroom. I went home from work hurriedly grabbed some stuff and then dashed over to her house as quickly as I could so I didn’t have to see O… you know what he’s going back to O because I am so mad at him I don’t even want to say his name. A feeling I distinctly remember from the early days of my relationship with Ollie. I begin to toy with my engagement ring wondering whether I should even be wearing it any more. I don’t even want to think about this it’s making me sick. I slam close my eyes and decided to leave all this until the morning when my brain won’t be dazed by sleepiness.
But it’s no use I can’t fall back to sleep again. I roll around for about a minute unable to shut down again. Finally I realise the reason I was dragged out of my sleep; there are hushed voices conducting a rather furious argument downstairs. Without thinking I kick off the sheets and stumble out onto the corridor. I begin to descend the staircase carefully and as quietly as possible. Emmie is stood by the door furiously shaking her head and using the door to put space between her and whoever is stood outside but because of the way she’s placed the door I can’t see who she is talking to. I crane my neck but its no use and if I lean over any further I’ll probably end up tumbling down the stairs. So for the first time I tune into the conversation to see if I can recognise the voice. It hits me immediately the voice is Ollie. I can’t deal with this, not now, so I spin around and I quickly ascend the stairs once more. But in my haste I cause one of the steps to creak rather loudly and the next thing I know Ollie has shouted my name. I wince, turn myself back around and join Emmie by the door. Emmie is still guarding the door ferociously refusing to let him put a foot in the house. “Ems its okay you can let him in,” I inform her placing my hand on her arm. “Well only if you want to this is your house after all,” I quickly add. She nods then lowers her hand. “If you cause trouble you’re dead,” Emmie threatens, that’s actually the scariest I’ve heard her sound. Ollie seems just as taken aback as I am. I look at his expression of shock and suddenly it’s my turn to wear an expression of shock. His eyes are red and watering, you can even still detect the path tears have traced their way down his face. He’s been crying. Crying quite a lot by the looks of things. My stomach drops to the floor and my mouth turns dry. I’ve never seen him like this. He’s so good at bottling up emotions it’s really quite unsettling to see him like this. “I just want to talk,” he informs us pathetically.
“Are you going to be okay?” Emmie asks me.
“Yeah go back to sleep. I’ll see you in the morning,” I inform her giving her a hug. She nods and then leaves Ollie and I alone.
I lead Ollie into the living room and carefully close the door behind me. “Izzie please, please don’t leave,” he begs suddenly. “Come back home, please,” he continues. “I should never have taken the job, I’m so sorry… I”
“It’s not the fact you took the job, it’s the fact you didn’t tell me,” I interrupt him trying my best to stay mad at him because he looks so miserable I can barely muster the strength to shout at him. “I know but it was a very last minute deal and…,” he takes one look at my expression and then trails off. “No, you’re right. No excuses it was stupid and immature and irresponsible. But I didn’t think I was being those things and I certainly didn’t want to make you feel unwanted or unimportant. You are the most important thing in my life which is why I asked you to be my wife. If it really makes you unhappy, then you come first no questions. I need you more than I need anything else in my life. I’ll call Chelsea and tell her to tell them I can’t do it,” he explains.
“How much trouble would that put you in?” I ask.
“A lot,” he answers truthfully. “But I’d rather lose my career than lose you,” he adds. I let out one long shaky breath releasing all the anger within me. I carefully think through my options and then finally formulate my answer. “Go to America. I can’t tell you not to go. This is obviously important to you if you’re willing to do it on such short notice. Obviously I can’t go with you. I have my own job to think about but we’ll make an effort to talk everyday. Just next time talk with me before you go charging into big decisions,” I reply.
“So you forgive me?” he asks cautiously. I hesitate for a moment but then I nod and move forward to hug him. He instinctively pulls me in. “Love you,” he whispers.
“You can be a complete idiot at times but I love you,” I mumble back. I actually feel him sigh with is relief as his chest deflates. “Please don’t ever do anything like this again,” I beg him clutching onto him.
“Never again,” he promises planting a kiss on the top of my head.
All week Ollie and I literally spend every bit of spare time we have together. Seven nights of romantic dinners at snazzy restaurants, seven days of waking up to breakfast in bed delivered and cooked by Ollie himself, seven days of finding flowers on my desk at work, seven days of romantic gestures; he really pulled out the stops. I couldn’t stay mad at him after that. Besides being mad would have just wasted the precious time I had left with him There’s a whole lifetime to be angry at him when he gets back. And he does deserve some credit for calling the film company, explaining the situation and convincing them to film all his scenes as early as possible so he can come home. Luckily he is ridiculously famous with a massive pool of influence so the company did everything they could to help us out. They even offered to pay for me to come visit him if I ever find the spare time which was lovely of them. So any anger was pushed to the side and forgotten about.
A week later and I’m waiting at the airport with Ollie. Although I never knew airports could be this fancy. Usually I associate airports with incessant queuing, being herded like sheep and mad dashes to elbow your way to the front of the queue so you don’t get the worst seats on the plane. But today we just sort of strolled in and now we are waiting in this fancy, private waiting room. I think you can guess which one is the better airport experience. “Are you sure you’ve got everything?” I ask him.
“Yes you made me check five hundred times before we left remember?” he replies.
“Still got your passport?” I question.
“Not everyone is as unorganised as you Iz,” he laughs pulling a passport out of his back pocket.
“Just checking,” I retort lolling my head against his shoulder.
“Mr. Daniels if you’re ready we can set off,” an airport attendant informs Ollie.
“Can I go?” I ask.
“I’m afraid you will have to stay here,” the attendant informs me. Ollie and I immediately turn to each other with a saddened look knowing its time to say goodbye. Shit I’m going to cry. I sniffle trying to hold back some of the tears but it’s no use a tear is already leaking its way down my cheek. “Iz don’t cry,” Ollie whines.
“Why?” I ask.
“Because I’m going to start in a minute which is really not good for my film-star image,” he jokes.
“Egotistical twit,” I mutter playfully punching him on the arm with a half sob and half laugh. “Call me when you land,” I instruct.
“I will,” he answers.
“No you promise,” I correct him.
“I promise,” he repeats.
“I should probably get going then,” he mumbles. I nod silently trying to put off the final goodbye for as long as possible. “Okay, goodbye,” he adds.
“Goodbye,” I answer. “Love you,” I tag on.
“Love you too,” he replies before the turns to walk away his hands slipping out from mine.
“WAIT,” I shout just as he’s about to reach the door. He whips around and I charge towards him, fling my arms around his neck and kiss him. After a while we stop realising how awkward we are making this on the attendant. I don’t stay anything else I just watch him walk away. Just before he disappears out of sight he turns his head to look at me and winks before disappearing altogether. He’s gone. He’s really gone… I stand for a few minutes numbly staring down the corridor before finally accepting he’s not coming back. One of the nicest things about airports is that atmosphere of family and love. All around there are people spending the last few moments with loved ones or the lucky ones who are greeting the people they love. Having to walk through that knowing the one you love is getting on a flight away from you is indescribably painful; turning one of the nicest things about airport into a nightmare.