The Beginning

Ch. 35 - The shock

He presses the door shut and turns the lock. "How did you hear?" he asks, monotone, his back toward her and his hand still on the door.

"Gesine had the news on."

"Of course, damned vultures," he mutters, turning around to find her pacing on the worn, hotel room carpet, talking to herself.

"It has to be a mistake, right? It has to be," she insists, gesturing wildly with her arms, still pacing. "You know how stupid paparazzi can be, that has to be it!" she stops, suddenly, begging him to agree with her. "When did you talk to him last, Keanu? How do we even know?"

"I was supposed to meet him for breakfast this morning," he starts before noting the hopeful look in her eyes, "but Sandy, he didn't show up."

She stands tall, hands on her hips. "So what? That doesn't mean anything. I forget to keep my plans all the time, so do you!"

"No. I don't. And neither do you."

With an audible gulp, she glares at him, "You don't fucking know! You don't know." She slumps onto the floor with her back against the side of his bed, her face buried in her hands on her knees. 

He chews on his lower lip, just watching her. Finally, he stood, walking into his bathroom to grab a roll of toilet paper, over to his mini-fridge to pull out a bottle of water, then returning to her side.

"Do you want some water?"

She shakes her head in defiance, bangs wiggling over her puffy eyes. 

He sat down on the red-patterned floor next to her, legs outstretched and shoulders slouched, with a vacant look on his face. Unsure what to do next, he sits there, just holding the cold, plastic bottle in his hands.

"I'm sorry you found out that way," he said quietly.

Sandra's body quakes again with a flood of tears. 

He wraps his arm around her shoulders, drawing her in as she buried her grief into his chest. He strokes her hair as she cries, softly shushing. 

Her sobs slowly turn to whimpers, followed by heavy breathing and sniffling.

He reaches for the toilet paper on the carpet next to him. "I don't really have Kleenex, but, I have this," he offers, thrusting a wad under her chin.

"Class act," she laughs, taking the toilet paper out of his hand, dabbing at her eyes and nose.

His kind eyes upon her, he holds her closer, which causes tears to well up again.

"Dammit," she whispers under her breath. "It's just wrong. It's wrong."

"We all die, Sandy. All of us. The goal is to make something of your life while you're here. And if anyone did that, it was Jude."

This puts her over the edge again, weeping on his shoulder.

"No. No, don't cry, Sandy. Please, don't cry," he implores her. "He really loved you, did you know that?"

"Jude loved everybody." she says with a hollow laugh, her head spinning. "He was the epitome of goodness and love."

"Yes. But Sandy," he places a hand under her chin, lifting so her chocolate eyes meet his, "Sandy, he really loved you."

She closes her eyes, a strip of salt water falling from her lashes.

"He's a good judge of character, you know." With his thumb, he wipes a thick drop off of her cheek. "Was, I guess." He scans her face from top to bottom, brushing the hair behind her ears. "You have no idea how much he talked about you. It was kinda irritating, actually," he shares, forcing a smile when she raises her eyes to his.