Chapter 21 - Creative Juices

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[M chapter. There may be an innuendo here haha] Hope you like this one. 

My eyes flitter open, waking naturally to the December sunshine peeking through the gap in the drawn curtains. The New Year is drawing closer, almost 2007. I feel as though I barely blinked and poof – gone. Habitually I reach for my phone before I remember it was destroyed by Scott and instead read the digits on the alarm clock. Oh God it's 10:45am. The pain in my collar-bone is like a tightened hinge as I struggle to sit up in bed, but Alan – who timely walks in with a cup of coffee – helps me up. He's looking utterly handsome dressed casually in a white shirt and dark grey pants. He comes and sits next to me on the bed and asks how I'm feeling. Just to have him run his thumb across my forehead, pushing back my hair to inspect my bruises has my heart doing somersaults. His small gestures and acts of kindness mean the world.

"How does it look?" I dread.

"By opening it."

Laughing at his dry joke, I smack him on the knee. I love that little smirk of his.

"Greener," he comments, "It's healing. Looks a lot better this morning."

I pull in my lip, which apparently also looks to be on the mend.

As I sit down to a prepared breakfast made essentially by the man of my dreams, every thought I had during my shower returns – Scott – Had he woken up yet, what was he thinking, doing, was he planning anything, what was his reaction when he saw I was gone. Mid thought, Alan places a hand upon my back, which makes me jump out of my skin. I guess I had zoned out whilst he'd been taking calls. A comforting kiss on the top of my head brings me back to the present.

"Alan, do you mind if I call work? That's if I even still have a job..." I sigh.

He hands me the phone and I make the dreaded call to Mr Pellicci. I'm beyond delighted when Isabelle answers and we have a moment to chat. She informs me that she explained my absence as 'personal,' when I didn't show up for work the following morning after the dreaded night with Scott. Isabelle hands the phone over and I have a moment to speak with my boss, who to my relief is understanding. Respectfully he asks no personal questions, just an estimation of when I can return. Having no real idea, I quote him a week, realising the prospect of returning to work is rather terrifying after what I had run from. Who knows what Scott is capable of when he knows my whereabouts.

"Do you need any of your things?" Isabelle asks "I could go back to the house with you?"

"I don't want to go back. I wouldn't be surprised if he's destroyed everything."

"You know you can stay at my place Rebecca. Although, I have a feeling you're where you want to be right now..."

I can feel Isabelle's gentle smile the other end of the line as I gaze across the kitchen at Alan. How can one man be so beautifully handsome whilst shoving a piece of toast in his mouth and licking butter off his fingers.

"I am," I reply, with a little smile.

Alan takes a fair few calls, including a Skype which seems to be a meeting as he goes to sit in his office in private. Without my phone to sieve through, I feel a little lost. I can hear Alan in the distance discussing upcoming theatre work, and automatically I feel the loss of my play script. Fury isn't a strong enough word to express the guttural pull as flashes of Scott destroying my laptop poison my thoughts. I have never in all of my life felt hatred this deep toward anyone. How could anyone claiming to love another commit such an act of pure evil. It wasn't just the script I had lost, but every thought, every idea, every note I had ever written...gone. The thought of starting from scratch is utterly overwhelming.

Whilst Alan is busy, I occupy myself with his large expansion of books, scriptures, poetry, history...no wonder he is a fountain of knowledge.

I tuck myself into the corner of the sofa with a book on Shakespearean theatre when he walks in casually with his hands in his pockets.

"Darling I've managed to get out of working today, possibly tomorrow, but Thursday I'm going to have to leave because I have a dress rehearsal scheduled for a play I'm directing at the West End. Things are getting underway so..."

"Oh it's ok. I don't want to get in the way of your work. Isabelle said I could stay at hers."

"Well, I was thinking perhaps you'd like to join me."

Clearly I'm overwhelmed in more ways than one at this prospect and it shows. Alan sits down next to me, places a hand to my lap and tells me how it would be good for me to get out, that I would be safe with him, and that getting back into theatre isn't such a bad idea. Again, another selfless caring act on his part.

"Let's open another door shall we? Everything happens for a reason. Why don't you join me? Time to do a little something for you I think. You said you wish you'd have stayed with the theatre... No time like the present. What do you say? Dip your toes in a little"

His amber eyes are full of kindness.

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