~*Part 4*~

See Disclaimer in Part 1

- - - - - - - - - - - Ally lay there, looking up at the ceiling of her hotel room. It was white, like the clouds she’d encountered before. Plain, white, with a little chandelier hanging down. She twisted her head this way & that, trying to catch reflections on the mini-crystals attached to it. After awhile, this intriguing activity started to bore her. She sat up and changed positions, putting her feet on the incredibly soft pillows. Alright, where was this going to get her? What could she possibly manage to accomplish?… She sat up again, this time on the edge of the bed, and tried to figure out what time it was. 5, 6, maybe 7… Whoah! Had she really been asleep for so long?! Too lazy to walk over to the bureau and check her watch, she bounced up and down on the bed for a few minutes, and, not finding much joy in that, either, turned around and picked up her cell…

She needed to talk to somebody. Anybody. She didn’t care who. She’d be happy to just skip down the stairs & talk to the bellman, the receptionist, anyone. Just get out of the room, out of the hallway, get AWAY from here. Maybe goo out, come up to a complete stranger and offer to buy them coffee. To talk. Meet someone new. Someone more interesting than the people she was involved with now… “A slutty cellist who has no appreciation for her friends, a doctor who probably got his degree in breaking hearts and a brat of a kid… Lovely.”, she thought…

She finally stood up and put on something she considered perfect – brave, but not slutty. Elegant, but not too fancy. A pair of black stretch pants, a silky v-neck showing a considerable amount of cleavage and a jacket. Perfect. Holding her head up high, she walked out of her room and punched the elevator button. She heard a welcoming ding and soon was on her way to freedom…




Walking out of the building felt like escaping from jail. As the attorney trio marched out of the courthouse, Nelle reached back and unpinned her bun, which sent Richard into “ooohs” and “aaahs”. John just smiled quietly. Nelle breathed out, then slowed down her pace a bit. Just as she was starting to relax, to forget everything she’d been forced to think of as a result of her closing, a “ring” startled her. She searched around her pockets, then reached down and opened her briefcase. There it was… the little black & green enemy of peace & quiet. It rang again, and she had a gut feeling she knew who it was. Her hands trembled as she retrieved it, half-hidden under post-its. Another “ring” sounded, and she finally summed up the courage to look at the display… “Shit.”, she thought. Quickly, she shoved it back into her briefcase and hurried to catch up with John & Richard. “I’ll see you later,” she breathed out as she ran off. “Where-“ started John, but she was already too far away to hear anything…

As she shoved the key in the lock and punched in the entry code, she could feel the steam building up inside her. The door finally gave in, and she sat down. “Shit-shit-shit…” she thought, repeatedly playing it through her head. “Okay, what do I do now?…” Go there? It’d be too… pathetic. She’d been trying to steer clear of that area for now. Not go there? It’d be stuck up. After all, these people are her parents! But they’re idiots… Morons. Cretins. Okay… so she’d be stuck up. Fine. She’d be able to live with that… Wouldn’t she? No. She didn’t want to be like her parents, yet she didn’t want her parents to win…

Where WOULD she go if not there? Home? To what? An empty apartment? Obviously John wouldn’t be there…Not at this hour. He’d probably still be at the office… Wait! That’s it! To the office! That sounded like an idea. “Office… office. Office.” She repeated the word in her head, and it sounded sensible. She’d bury herself in work. That was a refuge. She’d make herself finish every single thing she’d ever started, work on every single case she could get her hands on. She’d stay there past midnight, until John would come by her office and give her the usual “Come on…” look. She smiled softly as she imagined it – she loved that look. He was appreciative of her work & her efforts, but always wanted her to settle down a bit, to not work as hard as she did. Okay, so she’d made up her mind – she’d ignore the phone call and go straight to the office. Perfect.

She twisted her head to look out the rear window and check for traffic when she noticed a single photograph fall from the open briefcase on the passenger side…

It was taken by nothing short of a skilled photographer – and she admired that. He’d been able to capture the right mood in every single photo he took. It was autumn in that picture, she figured, because of the way the trees & grass looked. There were lots of people whose names she didn’t even remember standing around, talking, smiling, waving. And then there were two kids – a skinny blonde with shoulder-length hair, simply dressed in jeans and a greyish-bluish tee and a taller, but chubbier, guy with spiked brown hair smartly dressed in slacks and a cotton 3-button short-sleeved shirt. She laughed at the absurdity of it, then turned the picture around. “Peter, in November… I think he’s the cutest guy in the world” she read, and the smile faded. It was scribbled in high school-ish handwriting, and the i's were crowned with hearts instead of dots. She put the picture back into the briefcase and started the car. Plans would have to be changed…

As she walked down the hallway, she heard her two minds – one rational, the other sentimental – arguing. “Bad idea…” – “Good idea…” – “Terrible…” – “Wonderful…” She didn’t care WHAT they decided on – she’d do it. She knew she would. She approached the correct door and knocked. “What the hell am I doing?” she yelled at herself, but her train of thought was cut short when she heard the door being unlocked from inside. Her heart pounded so loud she was sure it’d jump out. “I’m calm… I’m calm… I’m really calm…” she whispered to no one in particular. Then, the door opened…

She silently handed him the photograph. “Bet you’re proud of *that*…” she said, quick enough to cut him off with his usual term of “endearment” – “Nellie-“. “What?” he quickly picked up. She stayed silent. “Nellie,” he started again. “Nellie, who is this?” “This is fitting… “ she snapped, then turned the photo around and practically shoved it into her father’s face. “Peter… Peter? Oh, Peter…” “Yeah, ‘oh, peter…’ Remember what you told me? I was 14 years old, and I was head over heels for this guy. I was happy. My pseudo-friends seemed fairly happy for me, too. And you came into my room one day – it was late, I was getting ready for bed – and told me “Nellie, this Peter guy, he’s not…good for you.” I asked why, I was practically on the verge of tears, and you know what you said?” “What?” “Nothing. I kept demanding an answer, and then you just put your hand over my mouth. You said you didn’t want me to be with him. Then you walked out and locked the door behind you. In a few minutes you came back, and you apologized. The next evening, I was getting ready to go to the movies with him. I walked into the kitchen and got a glass of orange juice – and I spilt it. By accident. I immediately reached for the paper towels, and then you came in. And you grounded me. For two weeks. For spilling a goddamn glass of juice. I wanted to go home, and you didn’t let me. You told me if I told Mom this, you’d never ever let me come over ever again. I didn’t think I really wanted to, but the next day you took me out to dinner. You took me to the mall. We had a great time. I loved you, and I didn’t want to upset you. I’d forgiven you, and I didn’t seem to be grounded anymore… You remember what happened after that? I got a postcard. From Peter. He said he was moving. And he never told me where… And I stopped believing in love. Right then, right there, on the lawn, standing by the mailbox.”

He stood – astounded – in the doorway. She wasn’t done quite yet… “Dad, I won’t let you screw my life again. This one won’t be another Peter. This one will be for real – and you won’t have ANY say in this. It’s MY life. I won’t let you into it again. You had your chance, and you blew it. Any questions? Didn’t think so.” She spun around on her heels and started to walk away.

“I heard your closing, Nellie. I believed it. I’m glad you realized everything by yourself.”
“I’m happy. That’s something you were never blessed to feel. I have friends, whereas you have people who depend on you for bread & water. I have love, and you have nothing. You never did. You hid under the mask pretty damn well, though. But I’m glad you enjoy your life. Just don’t go around ruining others.”




Stepping off the elevator felt good. Like happiness was near. The tingly feeling in her chest became more and more noticeable. Ally squirmed a little, then straightened her hair and walked out.
“Aaaahhhh, fresh air!” she sighed. She took a few steps, then stopped. Where would she go? She realized she didn’t know the city at all. Oh well, maybe it was for the best… She’d be able to go everywhere, without setting a specific route for herself. She walked past thousands of people, wandering wherever she wanted to. She passed shops, cafes, restaurants… She watched happy couples, people with kids, people with LIVES. And decided that she doesn’t have one. But she doesn’t really need it… she’s up to her ears in other stuff, without having to deal with something as complex as a *gasp* life.

She thought of her friends back in Boston. Of Renee, who’s probably already set up a service at their apartment for guys. She smirked, imagining the whole thing vividly. Then she thought of the C&F gang – of how much she missed them in this cruel, heart-breaking city. “Vacations are supposed to be FUN!” she yelled silently. Vacations are supposed to consist of happy lay-around-and-do-nothing days, of freed thoughts, of time well spent. Instead, she’s walking around a city all by herself and trying to steer clear of thoughts that make tears well up in her eyes. Fabulous vacation…

And all of this torture – WHY? Because she has a bitch of an ex- VERY EX- best friend who just happened to be married (or engaged, whatever) to the one guy Ally considered spending the rest of her life with… Sometimes, lying in her soft bed at night, she would close her eyes and think of Greg. She would imagine herself with him in 10, 20, 30 years… And she’d be happy. That was enough to make her happy, to make her glow. And one night, she promised herself that if she *ever* ran into him again, she’d make him hers. She knew she had the power to do that. Thoughts like that always made her happy. She’d always believed in happily-ever-after. Those thoughts never produced tears…

Then why was she crying now? She felt ridiculous – standing on a street in a city she barely knew, crying over memories of what it felt like to fall asleep thinking of Greg. Completely ridiculous. So ridiculous that, after looking around and catching some very interested stares, she started to laugh. “They’ll call the psych ward soon if I keep this up,” she thought, and that produced even more giggles. Quickly, she wiped her tears away with her sleeve and started to hear the familiar beat of her favourite tune in her head… Just then, she felt something soak her left leg and jumped away from the curb…

“What the HELL?!” she yelled at a VERY apologetic (and handsome, she noticed) young guy who stepped out of the car – the same car which, just moments ago, drove into a puddle and sprayed her with water of a very unattractive brownish shade. She was so mad she couldn’t find the right words to adequately describe her state to the still apologizing driver. The poor guy, standing by her, was muttering “sorrysorrysorry” a thousand times over. He reached out and tried to help as she fished around in her pocket for a kleenex. Understanding, of course, that a kleenex wouldn’t help clean up the horrible mess the puddle & the car had caused, she sent all to hell and angrily stomped her foot. “Yeah, like *that*’s gonna help…” she thought. She was prone to tears when she got angry, and she could feel the tingle in her eyes… She just couldn’t help it. She wasn’t necessarily mad the driver – who turned pale as a ghost from the obvious shock he was going through – or his “stupid” car, as she’d classified it, but more at the unfairness of life. Why was everything SO wrong??? Why couldn’t she just settle down and lead a normal life??? No, she has to be stuck in CHICAGO, of all places, where every single thing she sees takes her back to that horrible night at the bar after the concert, weeping over lost love & unfair life in soaked pants. Why HER??? Why not the millions of other people living in America???

As her mind played through all of this, her head instinctively turned to look at the driver. She was just about to let everything out on him, when she noticed the one thing that held her back – the eyes.

These were EYES. Gorgeous, blue, as deep & wide as infinity. She’d seen millions of eyes in her life, but these were the ONLY ones that captivated you so strongly, you couldn’t break from the stare even if you really wanted to. Which she didn’t… she was enchanted. Mesmerized. She wanted to stay here forever, just looking into his eyes… She could lead her life on a sidewalk, couldn’t she? Considering there really was no life per se to lead, it seemed like a wonderful solution to all of her problems. Who needs work & friends & family & all the other nasty aspects of your life when you’ve got EYES? She melted in them. She didn’t care that her left pantleg was wet & slimy, that passerbys *were* about ready to call the psych ward & have her be picked up. She didn’t even care that she was standing in the most unladylike position on a crowded street in Chicago, the cruelest city in the world. She had eyes and that’s all she needed.

She drowned in the deep blue sea his eyes seemed to hold. Hours flew by, it seemed, and she had no idea where she was, what she was doing, why she was doing it. She finally recollected herself when she was sitting in some café, across from THE eyes. “The – gorgeous – bastard talked me into coffee?” she seemed surprised at herself. When she finally realized she hadn’t been paying attention to anything he was telling her, she quickly decided to fix that and gave him her full & undivided attention.

She found out lots of interesting things. The Eyes had a name – David. He spoke with a slight English accent and, much to Ally’s surprise, knew almost everything about her (had she really been *that* enchanted as so she gave out her full bio to a complete stranger and not registered it in her brain?) David was tall, taller than most of the guys she’d dated. Another thing she noticed were his long, slender fingers, those of a pianist, maybe – someone who spends lots of time at a keyboard. As she soon found out, he was a software engineer. Explicable. She registered his every movement, and processed it in her mind. And he was STILL apologizing… She suddenly felt the urge to shut him up with her lips on top of his, but held herself back and decided to wait a little – it would get to that by itself.

The wet, dark, cruel streets of Chicago transformed miraculously into a lovely place as they walked out of the café, holding hands. Suddenly, Ally felt happy for the happy couples she saw, rather than being jealous like before. She felt joyous instead of miserable, enchanted instead of annoyed. Everything fascinated Ally, all of her problems seemed to fade away… she was with THE Eyes. The only Eyes in the entire universe that she needed.

But, however beautiful the eyes were, she was still Ally. And she wasn’t about to turn into a super-spontaneous gal whose hormones were set on overdrive. So, she decided to keep everything elegant and simple – he, like a true gentleman, walked her to her hotel, kissed her hand and smiled. The gorgeous smile that made the waves in his ocean-resembling eyes sway a little. There was a wonderful moment of tension, something that sent butterflies fluttering around in Ally’s stomach. Then, obviously feeling that there was an issue still left unresolved, he bent over and kissed her. It was a simple yet intimate kiss, and Ally was sure she’d end up on the ground with EMTs hovering around her, trying to find her barely palpable pulse.

And then he was gone. She entered the hotel, and he turned around and left. She felt as if she were walking on clouds, floating through the lobby. As she entered the elevator and realized she was alone, she let out a little yelp of happiness. Maybe this vacation wasn’t going to turn out all that bad…

MAYBE.




Maybe she shouldn’t have done that. Maybe she should’ve just left it as it was. Maybe she shouldn’t have sprinted out of the courtroom, trying to catch him. Maybe it was best that he understood everything by himself, and left. Maybe she should’ve just put that picture away and never ever glanced at it again. Maybe it was wrong. Maybe she should go and apologize. Maybe she should at least TRY & talk it out with him. Maybe he really wouldn’t be that mad. Maybe it would’ve been best if she’d cooled down before talking to him. Maybe this isn’t really the way things are supposed to be… Then again, maybe it is. Maybe THIS *is* the exact way it should be.

“Maybe you’d like to tell me what’s going on?!” John’s voice was calm, yet worried. He’d never seen her like this before… of course, there were times when she was angry. Mad. Enraged. Furious. Livid. But never saddened by something as well.

She lifted her head up and looked at him with innocent eyes, breathing out a barely audible “Huh?”. He didn’t bother to ask his question again – it was useless. Even if something WERE wrong, she’d never tell him. Not that she didn’t trust him – she just didn’t like to bare her heart to anyone. She felt calmer, relaxed, when it was just bottled up inside. She’d prefer someone just hold her rather than find out what exactly was wrong and offer advice, condolences. That way, she felt safe. Safer than when she had to expose all of her thoughts to someone other than herself.

So he did. He held out his hand, and she took it. Pulling herself up from the office chair, she put away her files and walked out, leaning on his shoulder a bit.

Maybe it *was* better this way. It was safer. It was calmer. It was SMART, she decided. And “smart” was always the way she wanted to lead her life. Plus, this felt much better. She didn’t have to care about what her father thought. This was her life, and she chose to live it with the one man that gave her everything.

- - -End of Part 4 - - - Feedback is yummy, and people who provide it are praised & worshipped :o)