Chapter 24 Nora
Chapter 24 NORA
N ora screamed. Then she cried. Then she considered burning the couch pillows, now infused with Aiden’s scent. Then she texted Dipa:
Yes, that was the Aiden, but he’s gone now, and he’s never coming back.
Emotionally exhausted and in utter pain, she crawled to her bed—one part of the house, at least, that Aiden hadn’t spoiled.
How could she be so na?ve to think she knew everything, anything about him in one night?
With a swallow of bathroom tap water, Nora took her medicine—the treatment that had helped her stay steady for years, until Aiden wrecked everything. Her doctor had warned her how stress could trigger a new crisis.
After years of living a normal life, a painless one, Nora wasn’t ready to be back in bed, contorted in agony wondering if it was better not to live at all than to live in such pain.
“Fuck you, Aiden Elliott! Fuck—” she screamed, hoping it would help ease the symptoms. The agony in her lower back, though, was a clear sign that screaming wouldn’t help.
After taking the strongest painkillers she had on hand, Nora fell into a deep, death-like sleep.
When she woke again, it was almost evening. The pain had receded to a bearable level, and Nora’s stomach growled; she went to the kitchen and opened the fridge. She grabbed the previous night’s left-overs and threw them in the trash. Rubbish . Her mind spoke in a British accent, making her recall everything that’d been said and—
What had she done?
She rested her elbows on the counter, covered her face with her hands, and sobbed.
Bringing up his child had been a horrible mistake. Could he be so vicious as to make such a story up, just to garner her sympathy? Her heart told her no. The whole thing had felt true. The look on his face, the way his hands had shaken, the tears. Yes, he was an actor. But some things were beyond any talent. Deep down, she knew that part—at least that little part—was true. And that meant that she was the monster for bringing it up. A monster created from the excruciating pain that Aiden had spurred, but a monster all the same, making her say things she otherwise wouldn’t.
If she could turn back time and change that moment, she would. She would change the whole night.
Shoveling an untoasted pop tart into her mouth, Nora searched for her phone—five missed calls from Dipa, two from her mother. She texted both, saying she had slept most of the day and would call them soon, but she ignored all the texts from anyone else—good friends, not-so-good friends, colleagues—everything contained the word “Aiden.” Nora had no idea so many of her acquaintances were into gossip websites and celebrity news.
How different that night would have been, had she recognized him?
Not wanting to dwell into that any further, Nora busied herself with house chores and collected all the trash to take it outside. Her neighbor, Mrs. Brown, was tending to her garden. Not in the mood for small talk but also not wanting to be rude, Nora waved.
The woman grinned and waved a yellow-gloved hand back. There was a strange glint in her eyes as she glanced at Nora’s open door. Was she trying to see inside her living room? “Terrible weather last night, uh?”
Terrible weather. Terrible memories. “Indeed,” Nora said.
Mrs. Brown glanced again at her open door. Was she... looking for someone ? “Listen, Nora, if your boyfriend’s around, do you think he—”
Yes, she was looking for Aiden. Nora gritted her teeth, all the distress of feeling exposed and having her privacy violated because of Mr. Fucking Celebrity coming back.
“He’s not. Now if you excuse me.” Nora turned tail and closed the door behind her with a grunt.
When she calmed herself down, Nora realized Mrs. Brown was probably talking about Jay. Perhaps she didn’t know they had split up and wanted his help again to move furniture around the house.
Fuck.
This celebrity thing was messing with her head.
The clock hit eight. At least she could watch her telenovela and escape her thoughts for a while.
But there he was on the screen. His green eyes were a dark blue, either from contact lenses or digital manipulation. Wind played with his hair on a cold beach. “ Indigo Eyes . November, in every major theater,” said a deep-voiced announcer. How had she not seen this ad before?
Nora screamed, even louder than before.
She could barely pay attention to her telenovela. Her mind roamed around her house—to the basement, to the kitchen, to the dining table, to the fireplace. It also wandered the streets in her neighborhood, to the café—bittersweet memories that already felt distant, even though everything had happened just last night and this morning. Everywhere she had been with Aiden was now tainted, and she foolishly wished she never had to walk those streets again.
“Fuck you, Aiden Elliott!” With that, Nora grabbed her snacks and headed to her bedroom.
It was time to call her best friend.
Within an hour, Dipa burst in the front door. “Honey, I’m home!”
Nora had never regretted giving Dipa a key to her house—it had been especially useful for days when Nora’s pain and fatigue were so strong she could barely move. It had led to a few embarrassing situations, though. Dipa almost caught her in bed with Yeong—which would have made the whole situation even more of a disaster than it already was—and, before that, Dipa caught her crying and bingeing on cake after breaking up with Jay. Cringe, yes. But it meant that Dipa was there for her. Always.
“Hello, you there?” Dipa yelled from downstairs.
“No.” But she got out of bed, anyway.
Nora glanced in the mirror—her dark circles were darker than ever, her hair messy, her clothes rumpled.
She heard the sound of rustling pages from the living room. “Someone has been roughing up my magazines, uh?” Dipa yelled, with a hint of a smile in her voice. “Ah, ‘Thirty-Six Questions to Fall in Love,’ how cool! Them only gets better.”
“You know about this questionnaire?” Nora asked, making her way down the stairs.
“Sure! It became famous after the New York Times published an article about—” Dipa stopped talking once Nora arrived on the first floor. “Dear God, what happened to you?”
“Thanks. You look good, too.”
Dipa followed her friend with wide eyes as Nora took a seat in the blue armchair—more like collapsed into it. “Whole cake already?”
Nora gave her a death stare. “That was one time.”
“And you looked exactly like this.”
“Emotional overeating is perfectly normal, okay? There’s even a word in German for the weight you put on because of it. We call it Kummerspeck .”
“Of course there’s a German word for it,” Dipa giggled. “This can’t be over Aiden Elliott, can it?” Nora avoided her friend’s eyes. “Oh my God, it is! Well, I’d also be punching myself if I had Aiden Elliott in my house all night long and nothing had happened, but—”
“Thanks, that helps a lot.”
It also helps that I’m in his armchair , Nora thought . No, it’s not his. It’s mine. Fuck you, Aiden Elliott.
“Girl, what a missed opportunity. I heard he’ll be leaving for Jordan soon, to spend a few months filming—”
“Good riddance,” Nora snarled. She didn’t care if Aiden went to Jordan or to the Outer Rim of the galaxy.
Dipa gasped. “You’re really upset because of him! What happened?”
“Nothing happened. End of story. How was your day? Did you manage to fix the butterscotch cookie recipe?”
“Oh, come on! I barely understood what you said on the phone, and the gossip websites have no idea what happened between the two of you. You’re my only source. Please?” Dipa’s big brown eyes pleaded with her.
The gossip websites have no idea what happened between the two of you.
No wonder Aiden didn’t want to go back to real life. This kind of thing was waiting for him. And now it had become her problem, too.
“Nothing. Happened,” Nora repeated.
Dipa adjusted herself in her seat and looked at Nora sternly. “Nora. You can deny all you want, but I know there’s a story there waiting to be told. You have a funny way of channeling your sadness into anger. I’ve known you for way too long. If you don’t let it out, this will eat you from the inside.”
Dipa’s words were nothing but the truth. It became obvious when Nora had started therapy years ago, and had to look closely at her deepest wounds.
It had been a long, unpleasant journey to heal. Yet, the improvement in her health was undeniable. And now she’d wounded herself again by exposing her heart to Aiden.
And, yes, she did like to scream and curse at things when she was upset.
Nora sighed. “We had something, Dipa. There was something between us, I can’t even describe what it was, but I know it, I felt it, and I know he felt it too. But now I just feel betrayed. And invaded. When I found out he was famous—”
“Wait a second, didn’t you recognize him when you met him?”
“Why would I?”
Dipa tossed the magazine aside and turned her palms up in a gesture of confusion. “Because you just watched a movie he starred in?”
“What movie?”
“ Falling Leaves ! Don’t you remember him? The little girl’s father, hair slicked back, mustache...”
Nora’s eyes widened. “The drug dealer?”
“Yes!”
They talked about that damn Falling Leaves movie, and he said nothing. Flashes of their conversations came to Nora’s mind. Everything made sense now: that’s why he avoided talking about work when she asked him. He’d been hiding it.
That was why he had work to do in California. In fucking Hollywood.
And that’s why he knew so much about old movies. Buster Keaton. Singing in the Rain . All those damn movie quotes.
And why he didn’t get past his childhood during the “describe your life in four minutes” question.
And why he said he knew nothing but creative people.
“Haven’t you seen the trailer for Indigo Eyes? It’s all over TV. Even you can’t be this oblivious,” Dipa said.
What had been his answer to the question about being famous? “I never wanted to be famous,” or something along those lines. Playing with words. Smoke and mirrors, as he had said.
How could he have played her like that? He had so many opportunities to tell her. That she couldn’t forgive.
“ Filho da puta .”
Dipa’s chortle startled her. “Oh my, things must be real bad if you’re cursing in Portuguese.”