Chapter 74

“What was that?” Jon asked, looking around.

“Just the dryer. Guess your jeans are done.”

“Are you telling me to put my pants on and leave, now you’ve had your wicked way with me?” He demanded.

“Yeah.” She joked, leaning back in his arms. “I’ve got ironing to do.”

“I could help.”

“You can iron?”

“Well, no…..but I’m great at watching!”

“You’re a voyeur, huh? Oh, wait, you told me before that you were a peeping tom, didn’t you?”

“That’s me, baby.”

Jon finally released her from his arms, and Sara let her legs drop from around him. Looking at her, Jon reached to tenderly touch her breast, then ran his hand down her side before gritting his teeth and taking his hand off her. He pulled her robe closed and tied it.

“You’d better go, Sara, and do whatever you need to, before I tear that off you again.” He closed and belted his own robe as he stepped back.

Sara hopped off the table with a smile, stroking his face as she moved away. As good as his word, Jon sat and watched as she ironed, until Sara turned on the TV.

“Jon - I can’t concentrate when you’re watching me like that. Watch a movie or something. Please?”

Jon grinned and picked up the TV remote, flicking channels until he found something to interest him. Now that his blue eyes weren’t haunting her, Sara was able to give her full attention to the pile of ironing, and she finally managed to get it all finished. She took the pile of clothes and loaded them into her suitcase, locking it closed.

When she headed back to the living room, she remembered Jon’s jeans, and she detoured to collect them from the dryer. As she carried them through, she thought she heard Jon speaking, but when she came into the room he was just laying down her cellphone.

“Did it ring?” She asked, wondering why he’d lifted it.

“No. I was just making sure you had my number in there.”

“Of course I do. Here’s your jeans - all dry.”

“Yeah - okay - guess I can take a hint.”

Jon dressed quickly, heading for the door. Sara still only wore her robe, but she went with him to the door. Before opening the door, Jon drew her close for a long kiss, breaking apart with great reluctance. As he stepped back, he grinned and reached out to tug her robe open, gazing at her naked body.

“What?”

“I’m just trying to memorise you, baby - I need something to keep me going the next couple of weeks.”

Sara giggled. “Crazy man! Now, go, and enjoy yourself in Florida.”

Jon kissed her again. “How am I s’posed to enjoy myself if you’re not there? Okay, bye, sweetheart. You call me as soon as you arrive in the UK, right? Doesn’t matter what time it is.”

As he opened the door, Sara pulled her robe closed.

“Are you sure you can’t come to Florida?”

“Jon! Please, baby, don’t make this worse than it is. Just go, and I’ll see you in…….when I get back.”

“Shit. Okay, Sara.” Jon kissed her one more time, then left.

He almost made it to the car, then an idea hit him and he stopped, considering. He turned around and went back to the house, where the door opened as he got there - obviously Sara had been watching him.

“I’ve got an idea.” He began, and Sara stepped to one side to let him back into the house.

“What now?”

“Well, I’d have to check, but I think it’d work. How about you come to Florida….” he raised a hand as her expression changed. “Hear me out, babe. Come to Florida and meet the guys, see the show. Straight after, I’ll have the plane fly you to the UK, and you’ll be there Sunday morning. How does that sound?”

Jon was beaming, sure he’d found the solution, and Sara hated to burst his bubble.

“It still won’t work, Jon. The hunts meet first thing in the morning, and I need to be in Cornwall for the first two. The meet on Sunday is at eight am, and if you throw in the time difference……well, it won’t work.”

“But, you could shoot the second half or something. Or the Monday one….you could…..”

“Jon, no. I just can’t.” Sara was close to tears - she could hardly bear to leave Jon anyway, and his constant badgering wasn’t helping. For his own part, Jon’s unhappiness was starting to turn to anger - he just wasn’t used to not getting his own way, not these days.

“But I want you to come to Florida.” he said almost petulantly.

“Like the song says, you can’t always get what you want.”

Even as he replied, Jon knew what he was saying was wrong. It was childish and it was unforgiveable, but he couldn’t stop the words from coming out.

“If you really loved me, you’d come to Florida.”

Sara recoiled as though he’d slapped her, tears forming in her eyes which were quickly blinked away, anger replacing the hurt look as her defensive walls - those walls Jon had worked so patiently to break down - came back with a vengeance. She didn’t say a word, just reached past Jon and opened the door. Tears were streaming down her face now, but her expression was stony.

“Oh, Jesus, Sara - I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that!” Jon reached for her, but she backed away, not looking at him.

“Would you please leave.” She whispered.

“Baby……I……..”

“Get out!” Her voice cracked as she spoke, but the venom in her eyes made Jon back out of the door.

“Sara, please…….”

She slammed the door, and he heard the bolt, then the chain. For long minutes, he pleaded through the door, but there wasn’t a sound from inside, and he eventually headed for the car, dialling her number on his cellphone. She must’ve been watching him again, because the phone was picked up and immediately put down again. When he tried again, the line was busy, so Sara must have taken the phone off the hook.

Jon didn’t know what to do. He got into the Chevelle, but the last thing he wanted to do was leave. He tried her number again, but still busy.

“Fuck!” He exclaimed, slamming his hand against the steering wheel. “FUCK!” He yelled again.

He looked up at the house, wondering what to do. Maybe he should let her cool off, call her in the morning, or come by on his way to the airport. Of all the stupid, senseless things he’d done over the years, this had to be the worst. How the hell had their sweet goodbye turned into this? He wondered, immediately answering himself. ‘Because you’re a spoilt prick of a rock star, who always has to have his own way.’

Jon got slowly back out of the Chevelle and walked up to the house. He knelt at the door, pushing the letter box open, speaking through the narrow gap, trying one more time.

“Sara? Baby, please - listen to me? I absolutely shouldn’t - SHOULD NOT - have said that. I just wanted you to come with me so much - I guess I don’t handle disappointment very well. I,” he looked at his watch. “Shit. Sara, I have to go, to pick Steph up, but will you please just answer me? Please? Sara - I’m begging you - forgive me? Baby, I love you - and despite what I said, I know you do love me, though God knows I don’t deserve it. Sara?”

Still just that stony silence, and Jon couldn’t even be sure she was listening to him, that she could hear him. He couldn’t see that she was actually slumped against the door, her head just below his sightline as she listened, still crying silently.

“Baby - Sara - I don’t know what else to say. I’m sorry and I love you. That’s it. Will you please, please call me, or just pick up when I call you? I have to go, but we do need to talk. Please, please, please call me - doesn’t matter when - my cell will be on, even during tomorrow’s show, so please call me. I love you.”

As he got to his feet, Jon became aware of tears rolling down his face, and he wiped a hand down his cheeks as he went to the car, glancing back, hoping to see the door opening. He got into the Chevelle, still watching the house, but the door remained resolutely closed, and it was with a heavy heart that he drove slowly away.

Inside the house, hearing the engine note fade into the distance, Sara got slowly to her feet and numbly walked through to her bedroom, robotically setting her alarm clock and climbing into bed. She couldn’t believe she’d been stupid enough to let herself feel so close to anyone - especially a self-centred rock star. She tried hard not to dwell on the feelings she had for Jon, instead bolstering her anger by replaying the hurtful comment. As her tiredness grew, though, she found it harder to sustain her anger, instead succumbing to her aching heart and crying herself to sleep.

Jon had picked Steph up from her friend’s house, and he was so quiet on the journey home that his daughter eventually asked what was wrong.

“Oh, I’m fine, Steph.”

“Yeah, sure you are, dad. What’s wrong? Tell me. You said no more secrets, remember?”

Jon sighed. He had said that, but he hadn’t expected it to come back to bite him quite this soon.

“It’s just - well, I told you I was seeing somebody?” Steph nodded. “Her name’s Sara, and we just had a fight. No, actually, it wasn’t a fight - it was me speaking before thinking, as usual, and I hurt her.”

“Did you apologise?”

“Yeah, but I don’t know if she was listening, baby. Anyway, you don’t need to worry about that.”

“Of course I do, daddy. I want you to be happy, like mom is. You should go see Sara, tell her you’re sorry.”

Jon sighed again - his little girl was certainly growing up fast.

“I tried to, Stephy, but she wouldn’t talk to me. I’ll try going over there in the morning, but she’s leaving for the UK for a few weeks, for her work, so I don’t know if she’ll be there.”

“Oh, Dad, please tell me you didn’t say something, try to stop her leaving? You didn’t fight because you didn’t want her to go?”

“Yeah. You’re a smart girl - that’s just what happened - what I did.”

“Oh, dad! And you got pissed and said something mean?”

“Watch your language! But, yeah, I did say something mean. Can we please just drop the subject now? I love that you’re worried about me, but this is something I need to fix myself.”

Steph fell silent now, as they drove through the gates and up to the big house. They went inside, and Jon spent some time with his boys before heading on upstairs to pack some stuff for Florida. When he went to bed, his sleep was plagued by nightmares of Sara not coming back to him, or being in some kind of accident, and him never having the chance to win her back.

Early in the morning, feeling like shit, he dragged himself to the shower then dressed quickly and left, driving over to Sara’s house. As he drove up, he could see he was too late, that she’d left already, as the blinds were half-drawn, her car was gone, and the house had a lonely, abandoned look. Jon knew just how it felt.