Someone I Used to Know - By Blakney Francis Page 0,73
if I could get into your past, that I’d be able to put my finger on whatever it was about you that eluded me, but at some point, I realized I was looking at it all wrong. It’s not about understanding you. I just like knowing you…period.”
It was almost exactly the opposite of what Madeline had said to me just a short time ago, and while her detached sentiment hadn’t meant much to me at all, Declan’s declaration inflated me. It made me feel human, like I was a real person again, someone worth getting to know, past the character Cam had created.
“You wanted to know why I made Cam use our real names in the book,” I prompted, fighting through the tremble in my voice.
I wanted to give him something in return. Whatever this thing was between us, it was dangerous. The more left unspoken, the better. So while I couldn’t tell him the way he made me feel, I could give him something else – an answer to a question I’d never given anyone, not even Cam.
He nodded cautiously, a smidgen of reluctance dragging in his chin.
“For her entire life, my daughter will live with the knowledge that the person who gave birth to her made the choice to let her go. I have this fear – this consuming fear – that even for a moment – even for the briefest of seconds – that she’ll think that I didn’t want her – that I –,” my voice croaked, “that I didn’t love her. By putting my name in The Girl in the Yellow Dress I gave the world the power to judge me. I put every insecurity on display, and I made the hardest thing I’ve ever done a tool for entertainment.
“But I also gave written proof to a little girl out there that she was wanted. That I loved her so much that my heart didn’t just break when I let her go; it went with her.”
Declan was quiet, his face painted over with pensive lines. The silence reminded me of Madeline’s post-confessional reactions.
“Say something,” I blurted.
“I was going to,” he calmly replied. “I was trying to decide what you’d let me say without making that face you do, like you’re having a coronary.”
“What? I have no idea what you’re talking about. There’s no face.”
“Okay then,” his words held the promise of a challenge. “So if I told you that your decision was the most selflessly amazing thing I’d ever heard, then that would be okay?”
Oh…that was the face he meant – the wrinkled one of horror.
“No, that would not be okay,” I replied stiffly. He wasn’t allowed to make my heart flutter.
He met my eyes pointedly, drilling me with their seriousness.
“Then I won’t tell you that.”
The air, the car, the moment; all at once became too much, and I shot up, jostling his head out of my lap and forcing him into a sitting position.
“Oh God, poor Lazarus!”
The limo had been pulled to a stop in front of Cam’s house for God knows how long. It was frivolous and inconsiderate.
Declan chuckled at my panic. “Believe me, he doesn’t mind. He’s getting paid, after all.”
“He’s getting paid to listen to us have sex?” My face was pinched with embarrassed horror.
“No, I imagine that’s just a perk. But after hearing the symphony of delectable noises you were making earlier, I’m sure he’s going to go home later and treat Mrs. Lazarus to a good time of her own.”
He dodged the slap I threw in his direction, and hauled me back to him when I grabbed for my jeans.
“Relax,” he soothed. The sweet smells that clung to his skin lured me closer. “He’s getting paid to hang out and read. You wouldn’t want to cause little Lazarus Jr. and Lazarina to go hungry now, would you? I lent him a new book this morning. He’s good to go for a while.”
“Oh? And the two of you have some sort of a book club together?” I chortled.
He hushed me with a frown. “Just relax, Adley.”
And strangely enough, I did.
***
Over the next few days, the end of July melted into August, and while the rest of the cast and crew fretted over the meager month we had left to complete production, Declan and I did our best to take advantage of their distraction. This had involved sex in his trailer (and Madeline’s, but just once), a heavy petting session in the wardrobe jungle, a few quickies whenever (and wherever) we