Chapter 15: How To Lose A Girl In One Day

Kate stood motionless for a moment, staring at the phone Aidan had just hurled across the room at her. “No,” she said, looking up at him. “No, you don’t get to throw things at me. That’s not OK.”

“I didn’t throw it at you—“

“That’s it,” she said, thrusting the phone into her purse and slinging it over her shoulder with a jerk. She began moving about the room, gathering up any loose items that weren’t already in her suitcase.

“Kate, will you please just check your fucking messages?”

She looked up at him. “So you left me a message last night? Is that it? Am I supposed to be flattered?”

“Just listen—“

“No, you listen! Do you have any idea how hard it is for me to clear two weeks from my schedule? Do you? Some of us have real jobs, Aidan. Real jobs in the real world – not some 24/7 Hollywood VIP Section.”

“What does that even mean?”

“Was all this supposed to impress me?” She gestured her arms at the plushly furnished hotel suite. “Is that why you brought me out here? Or was it purely so I could watch you go hit on 21-year-olds? And then—“ She paused for a moment, letting out a harsh laugh. “And then you actually have the nerve to be mad that I went to a hotel.”

“I’m not mad you went to a hotel. I’m mad you didn’t tell me where you were—”

“What was your plan exactly? Were you gonna put a sock on the doorknob and ask me to crash in the living room?”

“For the last time, Kate, I didn’t spend the night with—“

“And then I spend my day saving your ass, Aidan. Saving your life. And what do I get? Do I even get a thank you? No. Of course not. I get told what an idiot I am. Right? Stupid, clueless Kate. Got it. Message received. But you know, maybe – just maybe – you shouldn’t have asked me out here if I’m such a clueless pain in the ass! Because as far as I can tell, all I got out of this little vacation was a picture of me in a towel on every channel in America!”

“Calm down.”

“Yeah, I know you think that’s funny, don’t you Aidan? You got a real chuckle out of that one. You know who else is going to find it funny? Every judge I have to stand in front of when I'm in court. Every single one of them is going to have some supremely hilarious joke to make about it.”

“I’m sorry about that.”

“You know what you’d probably find really amusing? You should go call the Manhattan Bed Bath & Beyond. Go ahead. I bet you anything they’re sold out of towels, because every lawyer in the New York Bar Association just had one shipped to my office as a practical joke.”

“So? So you get some free towels? I’m sorry, Kate, but what exactly is the big fucking deal?”

“Do you have any idea what it’s like to be a woman in my field? Do you have any idea how hard it is to get taken seriously?”

“It’ll blow over!”

“Oh really? And how long is it going to take to blow over? How long do you think?

“Kate—”

“The answer is never, Aidan. It’s never going to blow over. I’ll be at my retirement party in 40 years and they’ll still be giving me bath towels for my going away present. And I don’t have a nice helpful publicist I can call to make it all go away for me!”

“What, am I supposed to apologize for having a publicist now? Do you think I spent the night with her too? You know what? Maybe I did! Maybe we had a threesome! Maybe you should’ve stuck around and we could’ve made it a whole fucking orgy!”

“You’re disgusting.”

“You know, I could swear you used to have a sense of humor.”

“And I could swear you used to care about someone other than yourself!”

“Oh yeah,” he shouted. “That’s my problem. I don’t care enough about you. That must be it!”

“I am so done,” Kate said, grabbing her suitcase by the handle and rolling it toward the door.

“Where are you going?”

“To the airport.”

“You can’t!”

“Watch me.”

“Kate! Goddammit, I have a head injury! I’m supposed to have someone staying with me—”

“I’m sure somewhere on your three cell phones you can find somebody else in the mood for a sleepover.” She moved to open the door.

“Kate, don’t do this,” he said to her turned back.

She stood still for a moment with her hand on the doorknob, shaking her head. “Goodbye, Aidan,” she said at last. Then she walked out into the hallway and pulled the door shut behind her.

Aidan lurched after her. He’d been fighting dizzy spells off and on all day, and now he willed himself to remain standing as fingers of blackness started to cloud the edges of his vision. He stumbled against the back of a chair and fell to one knee, before dragging himself upright again and staggering toward the door. He made it out into the hallway at last, just in time to see the elevator doors snap closed.

She was gone. She left. Again.

Aidan rested his back against the closed hotel room door and slowly slid down to the floor, burying his face in his hands.

Kate. Gone. The anger of the argument was dissolving now, replaced by waves of overwhelming regret. How had he fucked it up so fast? Not even 24 hours. How was it possible, when he'd always believed – he'd always sworn to himself – if he ever saw her face again, he'd never let her go. Not after 24 hours. Not after 24 years. Not ever. He'd sworn to himself, if he ever got another chance, he’d do whatever it took to hold onto her.

Well, no, that wasn’t exactly true. For a long time, he’d told himself that the girl he remembered – the one he couldn’t stop fantasizing about – wasn’t even real. Just a ghost. A phantom. The one that got away, idealized in his memory.

But none of that was true. He’d known it from the moment she walked back into his life a few weeks ago. He’d known she was the one. She’d always been the one. He was never going to feel for someone else the way he felt for her. He’d known. He’d been so sure.

He gave his head a little shake, wiping at his eyes with the heels of his hands. Was he wrong about all of it? When things were good with her, they were so good. So much better than with anyone else. But if they couldn’t even make it through one day without the whole thing blowing up, then maybe it was all just a fantasy.

Maybe she wasn’t the one. Maybe there was no such thing. Maybe he was just meant to spend his life alone.

He should really go back into his room, he knew. Just a matter of time before someone came by and saw him. Famous rockstar, crying on the floor in a hotel corridor – not exactly the visual he wanted printed in the tabloids. He should get up. Call someone to come stay with him. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes, trying and failing to summon up the energy to move.

He heard the elevator ding and the doors glide open. Too late. He ducked his head and covered his face with his forearms, praying he wouldn't be recognized.

He heard footsteps come toward him and stop in front of where he was sitting. Not a fan, he prayed.  He didn’t have it in him right now to smile and joke and sign an autograph. Please, he breathed. Please, just don't let it be a fan.

Whoever it was, they weren't budging. Must have recognized him. He was going to have to suck it up. Brazen it out. He wiped his face against his sleeve and looked up.

“Aidan?”

“Yeah.” He stumbled to his feet.

“Are you OK?”

“Yeah.” He braced one arm against the wall to keep his balance. The sudden movement had sent his head reeling again, and he blinked hard as he watched his vision darken treacherously.

“Thirty-seven missed calls?” he heard her voice say. “Really, Aidan? Thirty-seven?”

His vision cleared enough to look at her, and he saw Kate standing in front of him with her cell phone pressed to her ear.

"You came back,” he whispered.

She nodded, flicking her phone off as she sniffled and wiped at her eyes with the back of her hand. “I came back,” she said, slipping the phone back into her bag. “I just checked my messages.”