CHAPTER 24 Haldor Stormbreaker
The sun was setting as we toured the farm with William’s friend, Chef Jan Parker, a few members of his staff, and the rest of the guests. We’d eaten so much that stretching our legs before heading back was a welcome idea. The tasting menu was fresh and exquisite, and one of the best meals I’ve ever had in my entire life.
After the tour, Jan pulled him aside to talk. I thanked him for the hospitality and excused myself after letting William know I’d wait for him in the car.
I pulled out my phone from my backpack, which was bustling with messages from my friends. Dozens of photos of William and me kissing outside of Parsons were splashed all over the most well-known gossip and entertainment magazine sites. As expected, they didn’t waste any time posting those photos now that they had visual confirmation of our relationship.
A warm, tingling feeling tugged at my stomach. Nerves. Even if the press had already published a few articles about us being together, they were nothing but speculation. But it was official now, and I would be lying if I said that waiting to see the public’s reaction to their favorite celebrity being officially off the market wasn’t unsettling.
William got in the car with a wrinkled brow.
I searched for his gaze, but he was avoiding eye contact. “What’s wrong?” I asked sweetly, tilting my head and sliding my phone back into my backpack.
He turned the key in the ignition, and I rubbed my cold hands together to warm them up, waiting for him to say something. The evening was getting chilly.
He backed up in the parking lot and drove away in silence.
“William?” I knew he trusted me, but he remained somewhat reserved on certain topics, and I also knew it wasn’t hard for him to put up thick walls around his mind sometimes. “You’re making me nervous. Please, talk to me.”
He shook his head as if to drag himself out of his thoughts. “No, baby. I’m sorry,” he said, offering me a hint of a smile. “Jan’s insistent on me accepting his offer to open a restaurant with the same farm-to-table concept in the Hamptons. He knows I own a fairly big piece of land there where we could potentially create the farm and build the restaurant.”
My hands flew to cover my mouth. “Oh, my God!” That sounded beyond exciting and exactly like the type of project William would absolutely love to partake in. So why did he seem sad and on edge instead?
“I can’t do it,” he said, his tone low and dark as if mumbling to himself. “He wants me to design the entire concept and menu with him, which changes every season. It’s not only a lot of work, but the investment of both time and money is high. And even if I have no issue with the latter, I can’t say the same about the former.”
“But you love cooking,” I said, confused. “I’m sure you can manage to go in for a few meetings from time to time and have someone you trust in charge of—”
“I’m up to my neck with acting commitments,” he cut me off, angrily switching gears to go even faster. I knew his anger wasn’t being directed at me, but I hated seeing him like this, especially when we hadn’t seen each other in weeks. The day had been perfect so far, but at the same time, all I cared about was that he could sort out his feelings about this matter.
“I can’t accept his offer if I won’t be able to put my entire heart into it,” he continued. “Besides, I’m not even a real chef. It’s pathetic.” His tone was sour, and I was beginning to understand where his uneasiness was coming from.
“You love cooking,” I reminded him. “Who cares if you didn’t graduate? All you had left to do before earning your title was hand in your final project. So, even if you’re not a chef on paper, you have all the necessary skills and qualifications. Not to mention the experience, considering you haven’t stopped cooking all these years.”
“Astrid was right,” he muttered under his breath and sighed after a long moment of silence.
I regarded him with concern. “Who’s Astrid?” This was the first time he had ever mentioned that name.
“She’s … my ex.” He pressed his lips into a thin line. “We dated back in high school. It might sound silly, but she once pointed out my inability to stick to my choices and commit, and her comment stuck with me through the years. She was mostly unhappy that I’d promised her to attend culinary school at Gothenburg University since she had been accepted to the Music Programme there. But I ended up going to Stockholm University at the last minute. We broke up. It was messy. And we haven’t seen or talked to each other since.”
I took a deep breath and remained silent in case there was anything else he wanted to add. Knowing how William was prone to shutting himself out made it even easier to dissuade myself from saying the things I wanted to say and listen to him instead. Sometimes, we just have to let people talk.
“When I dropped out of culinary school to pursue acting full-time, I was once again reminded of her words, and it stung,” he admitted. “It made me feel like a failure, like she was right, and I would always find an excuse to leave things unfinished.”
You’ve finished plenty of things, William, I wanted to say. But he already knew that, and he was allowed to feel however he wanted to feel. And me stating the obvious was probably not what he wanted to hear. He needed to vent, and I would gladly be the one who sat there to listen.
It seemed to me that he was being too hard on himself. He did what he felt was right at the time, and if that meant changing his mind at the last minute, so be it. I didn’t think he should’ve been feeling guilty about putting himself first. Why did he think he had to give up his plans to adjust to Astrid’s? Plus, this happened years ago, for crying out loud. Chances are high that she doesn’t even remember having said that. She was probably mad about the sudden change of plans.
“The university has reached out several times,” he said as my phone vibrated inside my backpack. “They’ve expressed their interest in offering me the title in a sort of honorary manner. All I have to do is fly over there, sign the papers, and I will have my diploma and officially become a chef.”
William took a deep breath and let it out slowly through his nose. My ID caller showed Aaron’s name, but I sent it to voicemail. I didn’t want to interrupt William. “But I can’t accept the title that way. It would only make me feel like a fraud. I don’t want it to be handed over to me, as much as they are dying to add my name to their alumni list.”
My phone vibrated again.
“You should take it,” he said. “Might be important.”
“Hey, Aaron. What’s up?”
“William’s driving too fast,” Aaron’s irritated voice rumbled through the speaker. “Tell him to slow down or I’ll make him.”
“Will do.” I clicked out of the call and put my phone away. “Aaron thinks you’re going too fast.”
“It calms me down,” he said, disregarding the comment. “I’m good.”
“Okay.” I was nervous about the speed, but William was skilled behind the wheel. When we were in South Africa, he told me he had a few certifications under his belt since he liked doing his own stunts when the stunt coordinator allowed it.
“Moira said you’re better than her,” I said, trying to lighten the mood and offer him a few words of encouragement. “She said you were the best of your class.”
“Used to be.”
“Well, she still thinks you are,” I insisted. “Except for fish and chips. She claims to be the queen of fish and chips, and I might have to agree. Zara’s obsessed, too.”
“Wait, Zara and Moira met?”
“They did,” I said reluctantly, not knowing if I was putting my foot in my mouth. I didn’t want to mess up when I’d just repaired my relationship with Zara. “I invited Zara over for dinner on Sunday because I know how much she loves fish and chips.”
It was best to skip the part where Zara invited Moira to Nathan’s birthday celebration, at least for now.
“How did it go with Zara?” His question was loaded with genuine curiosity. He, of all people, knew things had been rocky with her for a while, but I was waiting to tell him I’d met with her until he arrived. The last few days had been hectic at school with exams and handing in final projects.
“It went great, actually,” I replied. “We were able to talk things through, and we’re good now. I think she finally forgave me.” I laughed a small, somewhat relieved laugh. I knew how important it was for William that we could patch things up and get along, even if he never said it.
“I’m glad.” He grabbed my hand and kissed the back of it.
I smiled at him when a police siren blared behind us.
William cursed in Swedish under his breath but was quick to pull over. Aaron parked in front of us, leaving a wide berth, and stepped out of the SUV while Cooper remained in the passenger seat. A text from Aaron came in:
Aaron:Stay inside the vehicle.
Aaron was quick to identify himself as our security detail. We were let off with a warning once the officers took notice of the SUV’s diplomatic license plates and asked Aaron and William a few questions. It was also helpful that William signed an autograph for one of the officer’s daughters.
We spent the rest of the ride back home listening to music in silence while I massaged the back of William’s head. I could tell he was exhausted. He’d driven to Parsons straight from the airport, so I couldn’t wait for us to arrive back home so he could relax.
“My manager called me a few days ago,” he said when we stopped at a red light a few blocks from our apartment building. “MC Comics is offering me a three-movie deal to play Haldor Stormbreaker. Plus a couple more films with an ensemble cast featuring some of the other main characters of the MC Comics universe.”
My jaw dropped. Landing a franchise movie deal like this one, especially with MC Comics, was a dream only a select few could boast under their belt.
“Congratulations!” I grabbed his face and kissed him. “This is huge!”
“It is.” He nodded and smiled, but the beautiful wrinkles that would normally appear beside his eyes didn’t show. “You’re the first person I’ve told this to. And not just that. They’re inviting me as a producer as well.”
“What? This is huge! What are you planning to do?” I asked, curiosity eating at me. “Are you accepting the offer?” On any other day, I would’ve asked when and not if. But after our last conversation, I could tell William was having some sort of crisis, and being exhausted on top of everything else probably wasn’t helpful either.
“The first movie is in pre-production right now, and it’s set to start filming in LA by the end of next summer. So, between the actual shooting, voice-over stuff, and any reshooting that might be required, I’d say I have to move there for at least five months, give or take. And soon after we’re done, Savages will begin filming in Prague, which adds roughly ten to twelve weeks to that,” he explained. “It’s an independent film, but we’ll be presenting it at Cannes 2013, so that’s exciting.”
My eyes widened for a second before reeling in the shock. But what did I expect? Dating a high-profile celebrity like William came with other challenges aside from dealing with the media and paparazzi. I knew that traveling for work was something to be expected, but it sounded like he would be fully booked for the next ten years if he accepted stepping into this franchise.
“Talk to me.” He ran a rough hand through his hair.
The light turned green, and he stepped gently on the accelerator.
“This sounds like every actor’s dream,” I said, feeling a sinking heaviness settling inside my chest. At this pace, William moving permanently to LA was a feasible possibility, and I was a second away from freaking out big time because what would this mean for us? I wanted his career and success to keep moving forward, but I also wanted him to be happy, and for some reason, he didn’t seem thrilled about it. Or maybe he was tired. I was having so much trouble reading him.
I didn’t want him to go.
He replied by nodding and dragging a hand down the length of his wearied face. I settled my head on his shoulder and silently held on to his arm for the rest of the ride home. He probably wanted to get this off his chest, but I felt he wasn’t ready to talk about the implications surrounding him accepting this offer yet. And I wasn’t either. I wanted to enjoy his return from Vancouver and relish in the knowledge that we had the rest of the month all to ourselves.
Once we arrived home, we went straight to his apartment. We left William’s luggage in the foyer, and he was quick to move toward his piano. Playing it helped him decompress.
William removed his jacket, sat on the bench, and tapped the space beside him. I took a seat as butterflies fluttered in my stomach. The apartment was calm and quiet, and it reminded me of last summer when he played a few songs for me in Sagaponack.
“Any requests?” William asked, placing his fingers over the keys.
“Us,” I said. That was our song, the one he wrote for me. I loved it. And it’d been a while since I last listened to him playing it.
William played the song from start to finish, and when he hit the last chords, he stared at his fingers and said, “I don’t want to leave without you.” He pulled the fallboard down over the keys. “I can’t do the long-distance thing. Not with you.” He sighed. “Do you know how hard it was to be apart from you the last six weeks?”
I turned around to face him, resting a leg on each side of the bench.
“Are you breaking up with me or asking me to come with you to LA?” A soft chuckle escaped my throat, but it came out sad.
Leaving New York was out of the question for me at that moment. I officially still had a year and a half left before graduating, but I’d been packing up on credits every summer, hoping to graduate early. But juggling school and my part-time job was exhausting, and I wasn’t sure if I wanted to enroll in summer school next year. I needed a break, but if graduating early would somehow improve my relationship dynamic with William, I’d be willing to put in the extra effort.
“And I know I can’t ask you to drop everything and come with me.” He swung a leg to the other side of the bench and faced me. “But maybe you could transfer and graduate in California?”
“Phew. So you’re not breaking up with me?” I never thought I’d use comedy as a relief, but here we were. I also wanted confirmation because maybe I was not reading correctly into the situation.
William’s brow furrowed. “Never.” He cupped my cheek and stared at my lips. “Du ?r vacker, ?lskling.” You are beautiful, darling. Another phrase I’d memorized by heart. He leaned in to kiss me while his other hand rested on the back of my neck, slightly tilting my head to deepen the kiss. His tongue parted my lips and searched for mine. It was a slow, tender kiss that almost felt like a promise.
Never.
He broke off the kiss and rested his forehead against mine. My hands moved to his heaving chest, where I felt the steady rhythm of his beating heart—that heart I loved so much and wanted to protect at all costs.
But as much as it pained me to be apart from him, I loved my life in New York. Starting from zero in a new university with no friends and having all this attention pointed at us by the media … I swallowed hard at the thought. I wasn’t sure if I could take it. My friends and even William’s family were my biggest support system, and being apart from them wasn’t an option. For the first time in my life, when I moved to New York, I stopped feeling lonely.
Besides, my father would never allow me to move across the country. He was still paying for my studies, and I needed things to continue that way. And what about my job? I loved working at the magazine. That job was the only income I had, and I needed the money.
I breathed past the panic that was building in my chest. It seemed like our only option would be to try a long-distance relationship.
“I’ll take care of everything and make sure you’re comfortable,” William said, tucking a loose strand of hair behind my ear as if reading my thoughts and sensing my reluctance. “I’ll buy a nice house over there, pay for school, and give you everything you need. We can get a dog or a cat. Or both.” He cupped my face between his hands.
“William.” I shook my head slowly. One of the many reasons I loved him was his genuine generosity. William was my everything, but we’d been dating for only a few months, and I couldn’t accept that. It would put too much pressure on our relationship.
It was too much too soon.
“It’s one thing to be apart for a few weeks,” he continued, his voice growing agitated. “But I can’t leave for eight months straight and see you on holidays and the occasional free weekend.”
“I can’t.” It pained me to utter those two words. “My father wouldn’t allow it.” And that was the truth. Even if I was brave or stupid enough to do this, to drop everything and start a new life with him in LA, I knew my father would refuse and make it impossible for me to leave New York. He’d shown me a taste of what he was capable of, and I didn’t want to test his limits.
“We don’t need him.” His hands moved to my waist and pulled me closer to him, so I wrapped my legs around his waist.
“I can’t leave New York.” A painful smile drew on my face as I brushed a strand of hair from his forehead. “All my friends are here. And I would lose my job.”
“I could talk to your boss to see if they can transfer you to Haute Magazine’s LA office.” William wrapped his arms around me and pulled my body against his chest. His ability to be one step ahead was almost obnoxious and didn’t give me any time to think and process the situation. “Please,” he muttered, his lips brushing against my ear, shooting a tingling sensation through my body. “I’m not above begging. Not when it comes to you.”
“We’ll make it work,” I whispered back. “I promise. I’ll fly over there to see you as often as I can, and you can visit me, too. We’ll talk every day. We’ll FaceTime. And—”
“You don’t understand.” He pulled slightly back and searched for my gaze. “They want to film these back-to-back and go on a worldwide press tour for each of the films: Europe, Latin America, Asia, the works. I’d be contractually obligated to attend most of these premieres. Constant press junkets, morning shows, and late-night shows on both coasts. And then back to the studio and start all over again.” He let out a frustrated sigh.
“You don’t think we’ll survive this.” It wasn’t a question. It was clear that he didn’t think we could make it if I stayed behind while he embarked on this project.
“I won’t make the same mistakes my parents did.” William stood, the warmth of his presence fleeing behind him as he started pacing in the living room. I swung my leg over the bench to face him. “My dad was always away, still is. And even if he tried taking long breaks between projects, it came to a point in his career where all these big projects were being offered to him, and he couldn’t refuse. My mom supported him. We all ‘understood’ his absence was due to his success, but they slowly drifted apart. Or maybe it happened faster and earlier than they were willing to admit. I know their marriage lasted longer than it should’ve for the sake of Eric.”
“William, you told me your dad cheated on your mom countless times. He even had Zara,” I reminded him as if he needed me to refresh his memory. “Their relationship is not our relationship. We can make different choices.” I stood and closed the distance between us. “We can make this work. I know we can. Maybe your schedule won’t be as grueling as you think it will be.”
His gaze dropped to the floor as he shook his head with stubbornness.
“I can’t promise anything right now,” I said. “But you can’t say no to this because of me. Because of us.” I gestured between us with my hand. “I know you want to accept this role. You won’t forgive yourself if you don’t. And I don’t want to carry the burden of being the reason why you declined either.”
He met my gaze and considered my words in silence. He wasn’t the only one trying to avoid family patterns. I, too, had to stifle the growing need to drop everything and follow him to the end of the world, just like my mother did with my dad and his diplomatic career. So, if I did the same, where would that leave me? What about my dreams?
“I saw what it did to my mother to follow my dad around the world while she got to stand by his side and smile for the cameras.” I refused to follow someone else’s footsteps when I also had dreams of my own, things I wanted to accomplish. “It consumed her. I could tell she was always trying to conceal her unhappiness whenever she was with me. But even my father confirmed on my last birthday that she used to resort to alcohol and cigarettes to deal with the stress.”
My heart squeezed inside my chest thinking of my mother struggling with her feelings. I could only imagine what it would feel like if she were alive and could offer me some words of wisdom. What I wouldn’t give to have her hold me and tell me everything was going to be okay.
“I would never make you feel alone or abandoned. And I will always try my best to avoid doing anything that could potentially become a source of stress for you,” he said. “You can always tell me how you’re feeling. And you can count on me plucking every single cigarette off your fingers and ask you how you’re doing afterward because I see that’s something you got from your mother.” He slid a finger down my cheek and stared into my eyes and right through my soul. “The things I’d do for you if you’d let me.” His voice sounded defeated as he slowly seemed to make peace with the situation.
“Oh, William.” I ran my finger along his brow and stared into his sky-blue eyes that never ceased to make me swoon. William made me feel like there was nothing he wouldn’t do for me. And I’d do everything for him, too, even if it meant staying behind while I convinced him to chase his dreams instead of rejecting the offer for my sake.
“I know you’re scared,” I continued. “I am too, but this is not a decision to be taken lightly. This is your career, and you are standing at a crossroads. And please, I need you to know that I have your back and always will. We can make this work. But I need to graduate first. Here, in New York. And I promise we’ll figure everything out afterward, one step at a time. We won’t be apart forever. The thought of it”—I shook my head—“makes me sick to my stomach.”
The sound of sudden thick sheets of rain pounding against the windows startled me. It was pouring outside. We instinctively turned our attention toward the growing racket.
I reached out for Williams’s hand and pulled him closer to me. “Besides, you said you’d never break up with me.”
“I won’t.” He placed his hands on my waist. “But what if you do?” His hands traveled slowly up my ribcage until they reached the side of my breasts. He extended his thumbs and rubbed my nipples, making them hard in an instant. A low moan left my lips. “What if you start feeling lonely?” His hands cupped my breasts and squeezed lightly. “What if someone else comes along and gives you all the things I won’t be able to give you because I’ll be away, and—”
“Stop,” I said with a breathy groan. The thought of being with someone who wasn’t him was out of the question. “I’ll only ever want you.” He fisted my hair in his hand and arched my neck to kiss the sensitive skin below my ear. The roughness of his motion ignited a fire low in my belly, and I allowed it to burn me. “William—” He pulled off my jacket and let it fall to the floor behind me. His fingers teased the skin underneath the hem of my sweater, and he slowly pulled it over my head.
“Can you feel it?” he said, his warm hands traveling up and down my back, pulling me even closer to him. “How much I fucking need you?” My bra fell to the floor after he expertly unclasped it with two fingers.
“Yes,” I breathed as he kneeled in front of me and undid my jeans, slowly pulling them down. He kissed my stomach and worked his way down, hooking a finger along the hem of my underwear and pulling until they fell to the floor. He tossed my leg over his shoulder and swirled the flat of his tongue over my most sensitive spot.
He looked up at me. “Fuck, I missed you.” His fingers dug into the flesh of my hips to keep me stable as I held onto his shoulders. “This”—he entered me with his finger and cursed under his breath when he was met with my slickness—“is mine.”
The rain kept pouring, and soft shadows of water cascading down the windows were cast on the floor and around us. Only a pale light we’d left on our way in shone from the foyer.
“Tell me we’ll make it work,” he said, his words almost a prayer as he quickly found that spot inside me that would make me go crazy. “Tell me we’ll make it through this.”
“There’s no world,” I said with a moan, my fingers latching on to his hair to keep my balance, “universe, or reality where you’re not it for me.”
He stood, introducing a second finger inside me, and kissed me. I could taste myself on his lips, and I wasn’t sure my knees wouldn’t buckle, but I still managed to say, “And I’ll always find my way to you in every single one of them.”