The Inevitable Fanfiction

Chapter 15 – In Honour of Letting Go
The drive is short and it feels a little like déjà vu, having been on the same street less than a half hour ago. Yes, I have driven back to the hotel.
I need to see her, to talk to her, to be with her for this one last night. Do I know what I will say? No. Do I know if I will even say anything? Hell, no. I don’t even want to think about it. I’d rather act on instinct when I’m right there in front of her.
Luckily, I know for a fact that Hunter’s family is very much into tradition. That means that while Hunter stays in his own house, Paula is alone in the hotel room for the night. I give my car to the valet parking and enter the lobby. I do not want anyone to see me – because rumours are surely to arise – so I walk hastily to the lift, even though it is late at night and few people are around.
I press the ‘up’ button on the wall, and in seconds the door dings and opens. Inside, I let the doors close but do not click the button for the floor. Instead, I take a deep shaky breath as I lean against the elevator’s wall. My fingers rub the throbbing area between my eyes. Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea at all. I think I knew that the whole time though. I knew what I was getting into.
I try and clear my cluttered brain and come up with a conclusion: I have nothing more to lose, and only something to gain. And that is reason enough for me to see her. Much too quickly after I make this decision, I am hesitating in front of the suite door.
My hand rises to ring the doorbell, hovering in the air in front of it. I pull it down once only to lift it again, bracing myself. I feel jittery – and there is a funny feeling in my stomach. I don’t often feel this way – and when I do it is usually kick starting a new show or artist. This is something I find hard to describe. I take another breath and just as my finger touches the bell, the door swings open.
I jump back slightly and I must look hilarious because Kylie, Pam, Daniel and Jimmy laugh loudly as they walk out of the suite.
“What are you doing here?” Jimmy asks.
“What does it look like I’m doing?” I point a finger to the suite, gesturing ‘Paula’, with a ‘duh’ face. He opens his mouth to say something and the twinkle in his eye assures me it will be something cheeky. “Bite your tongue, Demers,” I tell him, attempting to add a silly tone to my voice, but I doubt I succeeded.
He smirks.
“Maybe you should think about doing the same,” He coughs. I roll my eyes. “See you, Cowell.” He pats my back and smiles at the rest – trying to ease the tension that has built up in the small area outside the suite.
They soon get into the elevator and I am left outside the now open door of Paula’s suite. I step inside warily. I can hear some faint rustling from the bedroom area so I follow the sound. The room door is cracked open and Paula is fluffing a long white dress, dangling down from a hanger. I stay quiet and watch her for a minute.
Now, there is no smile that audiences are accustomed to. Clad in a black tank-top, pink mini-shorts and a small frown, she pulls the sleeve of the dress down and ruffles the skirt. She takes two steps backward to inspect her work. She stares for a moment and I can’t decide whether she likes it or not. It is a nice dress – as nice as wedding dresses can be, I suppose – but that does not mean I’d appreciate her wearing it if it means getting married to some other guy.
She sighs and collapses on the seat close by. Her hands cover her face and she takes a shaky breath.
“Paula,” I whisper, not wanting to see her in such a condition. I step into the room and close the door behind me.
Her head snaps up in alarm.
“What are you doing here?” She asks, standing up. Her arms wrap around her small frame as she looks up at me. She has no shoes on and just about reaches five feet tall. It is sort of cute.
“Sinitta and I broke up,” I blurt, not wanting to think it through beforehand. She looks at me for a second before stepping closer and placing her hands on my biceps.
“I’m sorry,” She says. She meets my eyes. “Did you break up because of…?” Instead of finishing, she looks down, embarrassed.
“Partly,” I confess.
She takes my hand and leads me to sit at the foot of the bed with her.
“Who um… broke up with whom?” She looks down again, shy. Obviously it is not of her business and she knows that. Yet, she chooses to ask anyway.
“It was a mutual sort of decision,” I say – which is sort of true. Sinitta might have instigated it, but I could have easily changed her mind about it, if I had tried harder.
“I’m sorry,” She repeats, stroking my knuckles. I give her hand a squeeze.
“You’re not to blame... I was a little high – and you know-” I chuckle.
Paula shakes her head before resting it against my chest. Her arms weave around my torso and I hold onto her.
“Sometimes, I wish there were two of me,” She says suddenly. I arc an eyebrow. “I wish that one of me could be with Jeremy and the other me could be with you. It’s pathetic.” She pouts.
“It is rather, yeah,” I agree monotonously.
Her eyes jump to meet mine and when she sees my grin, she smacks my shoulder.
“Rude,” She comments.
“Ah-ah-ah. Honest, pet,” I say and pick up her hand, kissing it.
She looks at our joint fingers and flushes.
“Thanks for our dance,” She says after a while. “I know it didn’t turn out very well… for either of us. But I enjoyed it.”
“What happened?” I ask.
“My sister pulled me to one corner and gave me a lecture.” She makes a face and mimics Wendy in a high pitch, “‘What the hell do you think you’re doing, Paula? You’re an engaged woman. This is not how you should act.’ Whatever,” She finishes and laughs quietly.
“Why did you do it then?” I find myself asking. “Why did you risk your reputation in front of all your friends and family like that?”
She stills; stunned for a second.
“Because…” She cuts her eyes – discovering a new fascination for the bedcover. “I don’t know how to resist you,” She whispers guiltily.
“Oh,” I heave. I let my finger tilt her chin up so I can see her face. She bites her lip.
The dim lighting and quiet around us seem to have the truth spilling out of her now, as if it matters. As if it will be the last time it can ever matter.
“See even now…” She stares at my lips. “I want to…” She leans in slowly and sensually. She is so hesitant and I want nothing more but to close the gap between us right this instant, but it is her call. Finally, her mouth touches mine and a feeling of relief washes over me; like I had been only half of who I am until right now.
We stare at each other, dazed and I want nothing more to claim those lips again. On the surface, I cannot feel the morals of what is right and wrong. Only a miniscule part of me, buried deep below knows that this is not honourable. It is selfish of me, weak of me, to be so helpless and needy for just a woman. She doesn’t seem to mind, or perhaps she doesn’t realise my self-centeredness because, like a prayer had been answered, as if our minds make a mutual decision, we wrap our arms around the other and our lips meet again – this time, longer and slower.
Her tongue tastes of champagne which surprises me, because I don’t remember her drinking any alcohol. I’m sure she can taste the residue on mine as well. It is far from perfect. If it was, we would be kissing without haste, without expectation. But perfection is overrated. Right now, I am more than pleased to pull her closer and explore her already familiar mouth.
“Mm, Simon,” Paula sighs.
To think I might never get to kiss her like this again is surreal. To think that a piece of paper and a gold ring, materialistic things, define who we are and who we belong to. To think that it is because of these same superficial things that I will never get to kiss her like this again.
I pull away for a brief moment, needing to collect my thoughts. I can’t do this to her. I simply cannot let us go back down this road. We have been running in circles, escaping each other only temporarily each time, and I can’t do it again.
I slowly trail my hand up her body, feeling the goose bumps I leave behind. I’ve never been with a girl that reacts more to me than she does. I wrap my fingers in her hair, keeping her face close to mine. She looks at me questioningly and I give her a small smile and a shake of my head.
“We can’t do this again, can we?” She asks. I shake my head again, confirming the truth.
Paula looks me dead in the eyes before sighing. “I know.” She fiddles with the button of my shirt, shyly. “I just thought you would feel that we owe this to ourselves.”
I watch her play with my jacket, eyes cast down cut away from my own. She looks so vulnerable and positively irresistible. I rest my forehead against hers.
“You know I want you, Simon,” Paula breathes. “It’s much more than want…”
“You’ll regret it after.”
“Would I?” She wonders aloud.
I feel her hands wander across my chest, before they reach my shoulders where they tenderly push of my jacket, forcing me to remove my hands from her luscious tresses. Her lips chase mine, and pull them to her own.
As my jacket hits the floor I put one hand under her backside, lifting her up before gently sitting her down in the middle of the bed. A flash of something I can’t quite place goes through her eyes; maybe it is fear, maybe guilt, maybe desire. Perhaps a mixture of it all.
This moment will never exist; will never have existed the second it is over. No one will ever know what happened here, and it will never be mentioned again. Time seems to have stopped now. I know it’s thick – we’re not some fairytale ideal couple, obviously. And yet there is no prominent clock ticking and telling me to hurry and spend time with her while I can. There is no wedding tomorrow.
It is just me and Paula.
“Don’t think,” I whisper out into the air, and I believe the words that float from my mouth are more to reassure myself than her.
The sight of her sitting there with her hair tousled, lips swollen from our kisses and slightly panting brings back memories of our last time together. It had been wild and we’d been rough with each other and I don’t want that this time. It was partly the reason we broke up – as broken up as an affair can get, I guess. This time though, we’re older and truly enough, we’re wiser. I would never take a night with her for granted again. Right. As if there would be another night to take at all.
“Pawla,” I growl and crawl up to her. I am about to ask her if she is sure, if she will regret it later. I will not be able to ask this of her in two minutes so I had better now.
She places two fingers on my mouth. “Just kissing,” She says.
It is the line she is drawing, though we both know we have crossed the line of forbidden far too many times since her engagement. I could almost laugh at the absurdity of it all. But I find myself agreeing.
“Just kissing,” I repeat and imprison her lips with mine.
I crawl over her, delicately pushing her down to lie on her back. Soon it is all teeth and tongue, and when her legs part slightly, I slip between them. I don’t know how long we stay that way, and for a moment I can nearly accept that I’ll have to leave soon after, even though I would much rather stay the night. But then I feel it. She thrusts her hips against mine and bloody hell; it is a fate worse than death. How I want to indulge myself. My mind says ‘no, pull away now’, but I grind against her, panting. She groans. My skin is tingling at the sensation and her shallow breathing makes me want to do many unsuitable things to her right now.
“Just kissing,” She whispers, raggedly.
So we kiss. I kiss her jaw. I kiss down her neck. I lie down across her legs and start pushing her tank top up, trailing kisses as I go.
Yes, just kissing. Among other things.
“Simon,” she whimpers, placing a hand on the back of my head, as I continue to kiss her stomach, pushing the top out of the way. I lift myself up onto my left elbow and swiftly pull it off, leaving her in her mini shorts and bra. Her bra is black, and the lace feels smooth beneath my hands as I cup her breast; massaging it softly.
“Don’t ask me to stop, Paula,” I say softly, pleading. I am beyond gone, and I don’t believe I can pull away now.
I look up at her. She is close to a sitting position against the headboard, with her messy hair and beautiful features. Her eyes are filled with tears. She tugs at my shirt, gesturing for me to come closer. I crawl to her, leaving my face inches in front of hers.
“This is not goodbye,” She says.
“Of course it is,” I reply, monotonously.
“I can’t lose you,” She holds my face in her small hands.
“You couldn’t. I’m the one who’s lost.”
She whimpers and the tears fall shamelessly.
“Is this your consolation prize?”
“It’s anything you’ll let it be.”
My thumbs brush the salty tears away and she leans her face in my palm for a moment, shielding herself.
“Let go of me, Simon.” Paula whispers after what seems to be forever.
For a moment my hands loosen their hold on her waist and for a moment my whole heart loses hope. She either has more will power than I will ever or she truly loves him. Or worse; both.
However, that isn’t the case, I realise. She does not want me to stop touching her. She wants me to touch her the whole night and let her go only after. She meant it figuratively.
Unfortunately, she doesn’t realise that long after she has walked down the aisle and been named Mrs. Paula Hunter, I will still be holding on. My fingers will continuously be stretched in her direction, taking anything I can get.
She lets her hands wander from my cheeks to my chest. Her fingers are working the buttons on my shirt, desperately trying to get it off me. She is trembling, but I know she wants this. So I let her and she wastes no time yanking my shirt of my body; leaving me bare-chested. She pushes me onto my back, now choosing to be on top. I let her run hot, open mouth kisses down my chest, working her way down to my belt where she quickly gets rid of it with her shaky hands, along with my pants, promptly divesting me of my shoes and socks as well. I chuckle inwardly. I know she hates it when men wear socks during sex. It has always been a quirk of hers and the fact I know this makes me smile. How stupid and yet perfect. As perfect as imperfection will ever be.
“Come here,” I say, sitting up so I can reach for her. “This is going too quickly.”
She meets me eyes, hers still full of sadness and yet a hint now, of something else. Something naughty. “Like this, you mean?” she unhooks her bra and lets it fall; revealing her full breasts. My thoughts blur and there is only one thing in my mind; touch her. Touch her while I still can.
Damn it, she is without a doubt the sexiest woman in this entire world. “Just like that,” I growl.
I launch for her, making her fall back on the bed with me on top. I take one of her nipples into my mouth, letting my free hand play with the other.
“Oh God, Simon,” she moans, bringing my head down to stifle them. I know from experience that she can be loud during sex but we don’t need anyone hearing us. So I bring her mouth down and kiss her again.
“Lift.” I guide her, as I tug down her mini shorts, taking her panties with me. Clothes are overrated – especially for Paula.
I pull back for a breath, gasping for air. Paula’s eyes follow me. Unlike last time, where she refused to look at me, now she has a problem taking her eyes off me. I don’t blame her though – if this is all we are going to get, if this is all she is willing to give either of us, then we might as well make the most of it.
I carefully lie down on top of her, making sure not to crush her fragile frame. I lie there staring at her, just letting my fingers trace her face, while every so often stealing a tender kiss from her lips.
“I love you,” Paula whispers, so quietly, I almost missed it.
“Lord,” I whisper. My eyes well up, as if they have felt the emotion before my brain does. A lump forms in my throat and I swallow it down. “Paula…” I start, but I don’t know how to finish. This is overwhelming.
Then the tears spill, not from my eyes, but from hers, yet again.
“I know, Simon. I know.” She smiles as I wipe her face once more. What she knows, I am not quite sure, but I have no doubt she knows exactly that. And I’m glad she does.
“Don’t cry,” I tell her.
She kisses me, square on the lips and lingers for a moment.
“Let me go, Simon.” She says. Her fingers take mine and guide it to her stomach. I let them run down its flat, toned surface. It’s been far too long since I have done that and I’ve missed it.
“Can I taste you, Paula?” I ask.
“You can have anything you want,” she whispers. That is far from the truth, but I accept it anyway.
My fingers push her knickers out of the way and delve into her folds, feeling how wet she is. “Oh,” she moans and throws her head back, exposing her long neck.
“Baby,” I begin, as I bring my fingers up to show her the evidence of her desire. But I don’t finish. She’s left me speechless.
She watches me as I place my fingers in my mouth, sucking her juices off and hers eyes slam shut. I kiss her and let her taste herself, as her tongue sought after mine.
This time, when I pull away, I let both my hand and mouth play where is most wet. She pushes against me, moaning.
“Say…” She pants. “Say it again.” I stop what I am doing to meet her eyes briefly. Then I realise what she wants.
“Baby,” I mumble, kissing her stomach. She loves it when I call her that. She always has. Anything affectionate; darling, sweetheart, love, she adores. But ‘baby’ has always hit her hard.
“Baby,” She repeats, as if engraving it to her memory.
She sits up and kisses me thoroughly. Slowly, her hands reach the waistband of my boxers and pull them slowly down my legs. It is criminal, what she does to me. She pulls them down to my ankles and I kick them away. Now there are no clothes between us.
Now, there is nothing to stop us. I lay her in the middle of the bed and my eyes are locked on hers. She pulls me down, rubbing my tip up against her.
She gasps at the contact. “Simon.”
“I’m letting go.” I tell her, assuring us both.
“We’re letting go.” She affirms, out of breath. Her hips are plunging into the air, expectantly. I want to resist, let it last for a while, but as we make contact, I can no longer think of anything other than having her.
I carefully enter her, feeling her stretch around me. I moan and as I bury myself to the hilt. We sit there kissing for the longest time, with me in her, letting our souls connect in every way possible.
I can’t bare that this is the last time that I will ever have her like this, how can I ever let her go after tonight? All of our times together come swirling back to me and I feel a rush of nostalgia go through me. She has always been everything I could ever want and tomorrow she will be what I can never get.
“Let me go.” Says Paula, as if I am not.
I’m not of course. We both know that. But we’re supposed to be oblivious to this fact. This one fact that is the exact opposite of what we say. The only truth is disguised by the many lies circling the room.
We aren’t letting go. We’re holding on to the last remains of all we have ever had.
I move inside her and we find our rhythm far too quickly for ex-lovers. It’s dangerous, what we do and how we can do it still.
There is no doubt that we are cheating. She is not as experienced in this crime as I am, naturally. I have had many unserious relationships, including the first few years with Terri. However, this feels nothing like a cheat – nothing dirty or wrong. This is the only way we have to express the way we are feeling; the only way we could ever say a true goodbye. At this moment, I realise I feel whole – and the illusion of wholeness without Paula is exactly that: an illusion. Untruth.
To a human who hasn’t felt the way I do, they probably cannot understand this. Nevertheless, the connection that Paula and I share goes beyond what anyone else can distinguish. It leaves everyone else; Hunter, Sinitta and Terri as outsiders. It is a whole different league, one they cannot touch the way Paula can.
“You feel so good Simon,” Paula whispers in my ear. “We feel so good.” She finishes as we thrust against each other. I wish she didn’t say that sort of thing. It only makes it harder to let go. But then again, I suppose, we haven’t really been letting go at all.
I add to the pace and hear her let out a high pitched sound as I hit a particular spot over and over again. “Do you like that?” I ask and bite down on her shoulder as she answers me.
“Oh… Oh yes, Simon. Yes –”
I can feel her getting tighter around me, telling me that she is very close.
“Come for me Paula,” I encourage her and in a matter of seconds I feel her shatter around me, panting my name over and over again.
“Paula – ” I moan as I empty myself in her a few seconds later.
I lie back down, bringing her with me, still making sure not to break our contact. I want to be one with her for as long as it is possible and she seems to want the same. We stay silent for a long while. How long, I’m not sure. Paula buries her face in my chest and we stay wrapped around each other until our breathing calms.
When we were together, I would often fall asleep after a few minutes and then leave in the middle of the night. But now, I am wide awake and savouring the best moment; which is strangely enough, this one. Paula gently pulls herself so I am no longer in her, but keeps close to me.
After maybe a quarter of an hour of silence, she speaks.
“Have you let go?” She meets my eyes. They are shining brightly, sparkling, even.
“Have you?” I ask, instead of answering her question.
“I don’t… I don’t know.” She scrunches her glowing face.
“Think about it this way, alright?” I brace myself. “Do you want me to spend the night?”
She hesitates. And she has every reason to. Because if she says no, then she has let go. If she says yes, then she never will.
It was very unfair of me to ask such a thing, I know. She knows. But I need the answer.
“Don’t do that… You know I can’t answer that.”
“You can answer it. Just tell me, darling.” I graze her cheek and under her chin, and she leans against my hand.
Her answer has my heart wanting to break and soar at the same time.
“I’ve always wanted you to spend the night.”