She gave him a stricken look. She tried to run away, but he didn't let her, instead gripping her wrist tightly as he pulled her into the nearest private corner.
"Saffi, tell me---"
"It just won't work," she whispered.
The finality in her voice made Staffan stiffen. His voice didn't want to work, but he did his best, forcing the words out. "Don't fucking say that, baby. I can fix this. Whatever's wrong---I can fix it. Just tell me what you want me to change about me and I---"
She was already sobbing as she shook her head. "You don't understand, Staffan. Nothing's wrong with you anymore. It's me. It's me. I just can't love anymore."
Chapter Fourteen
If you're my fangirl, come to this place. (Google Map screen shot attached)
Twitter: Official_Staffan_Aehrenthal
"We really had fun having you as our P.A., Saffi," Aaron said in an unnaturally serious voice as he gave her a hug. She had officially resigned this morning. They had let her go because all of them knew that it was time for her to leave. They did it formally, signing the contract in their manager's office, and she was given a generous bonus along with her regular paycheck.
It made Saffi blink back tears, but she managed to summon up a smile when she pulled away. "You mean you all enjoyed making fun of me, right?"
Wynd said, "But you did have fun too, right? We just wanted you to be happy again."
The two other members nodded and this time she had a harder time blinking back the tears. This time, there were no hormones to blame. Once, anything connected to the pregnancy would have made her stare into space but now, it didn't depress her. There was still this little part in her heart that felt empty because of her little Lace, but somehow she didn't feel as sad. Somehow, it felt like by being okay – by Staffan and her both being okay, Lace was okay, too.
You are, aren't you, baby? I can feel you smiling at me.
And she could have sworn that she felt baby fingers touch her cheek in response. Saffi blinked back more tears. Little Lace, I love you. Mommy will love you forever.
As the four boys walked her to the main doors, Calvin said, "I thought you should have this before you left." He handed her a rolled up magazine.
She took it curiously, her lips parting in surprise when she saw Staffan on the cover. The headlines had her reeling, and she flipped through the pages, unable to believe that the publicity-hating Staffan had given such an extravagant tell-all interview.
"Check the last page," he suggested.
She flipped to the end, and Saffi released a choked laugh at the sight of Staffan Aehrenthal holding up a placard that said, I'm Your #1 Fanboy, Saffi March-Aehrenthal.
"Take your time reading it, Saffi. It's all about you. His life is you."
At his words, she could feel those baby fingers brush her cheeks again, as if pleading with her to change her mind and give Staffan and their love another chance.
It's not that easy, baby.
But when she went past the doors, she saw that Staffan wanted her to see that it was just that easy. Gone was his disguise – standing in front of her, with thousands of his fangirls behind him, was the rock star she had always loved.
He was beautifully dressed – Mr. Rock Star Chic at his finest. Shiny silver jacket that could make even Adam Levine look gay? Check. Frilly silk shirt with lacy hems? Check. The tightest freaking pants in the world? Oh so check. The shiniest loafers a straight man could think to wear? Check.
And yet, all he did was make all of it fit like they were designed for his stunning face and body. Every piece of it screamed one thing: Staffan Aehrenthal was hot. Fucking hot.
But what really made her start to cry was the person standing next to Staffan.
The prince and the rock star …
Who would have thought they could stand this close together and not kill each other?
Behind him, his fangirls were all screaming. Through her blurred gaze, she saw that they were waving placards and posters, and all of it said the same thing.
MARRY HIM AGAIN, SAFFI MARCH-AEHRENTHAL!
And there it was again, the sweet invisible brush of baby fingers on her cheeks, more loving this time. See Mommy? So easy. Just a leap of faith.
She went to Jeremy first. And because she did, the noise from the entire crowd died. Her heart hurt so much as she looked at Jeremy. She couldn't speak. All she could do was cry. She closed her eyes and cried, missing the way Staffan's face had whitened in pain at the thought that she was choosing someone else.
Jeremy opened his arms.
She ran to him and sobbed against his chest.
"I know, baby. I know."
She nodded, sobbing harder.
"You're telling me goodbye." He kissed her hair. "So … go."
****
The home that he had so briefly shared with Saffi was completely dark when Staffan arrived. It was fucking stupid to come back here when he had gambled and lost, but Staffan knew this was the only place he could feel closer to Saffi.
And he needed that now. He needed it badly because if he couldn't even have her scent, their memories to tide him over, Staffan knew he would slowly go insane.
He flipped the lights open in his bedroom and nearly had a heart attack when a figure rose from the bed.
Saffi rubbed her eyes as she blinked at him. "What took you so long?"
His heart was still beating like he had just run a marathon and fucking won. "Saffi?" He took a step closer then stopped, wondering if it was okay to pretend that his hallucination was real.
Saffi saw the hesitation in his eyes and tears pricked her own. "Staffan, come here, please."
But still he hesitated.
Her voice shook. "Baby, please, come here---"
And then he was there, taking her in his arms, his tears mingling with hers. "Saffi." He said it over and over, whispering it as if unable to believe she was really there.
"I just told him goodbye, Staffan," she told him tremulously.
"I believe you. I fucking believe you. I'll always believe you." He cupped her face with shaking hands and kissed her reverently. "Always, baby. I'll always believe you."
****
Four Months Later
"Stop staring at her, man. You're making me blush here," Ellen DeGeneres groaned. "Five more minutes and you're off the air. Can't you wait that long?"
Staffan's wicked glance made Saffi sit up in panic. Oh no. Surely he wouldn't---
"I can't wait. Every time I see her, I just want to f---"
She clapped her hand over his mouth with a gasp even as Ellen roared in laughter with the rest of the studio's live audience.
Staffan laughed and took her hand away, kissing her palm before he said innocently, "I just want to find more ways to tell her how much I'm hopelessly in love with her."
As the oohs and aahs died down, Ellen said, "I do have one last question for you two and then that's it. You're free to get naked – I mean, go. You're free to go."
Staffan and Saffi exchanged looks. Before Ellen could say something else, Saffi said with a smile that lit up her entire face, "I'm pregnant."
Ten minutes after leaving Ellen's studio, Saffi was helplessly trying to dodge Staffan's kisses as well as his hands, which were so swiftly trying to cop a feel. "Staffan!" She didn't know if she wanted to be flattered, furious, or embarrassed.
But Staffan had a determined look on his face, and it thrilled and terrified her at the same time – in a very exciting way, of course. She tried to get away but he easily caught her and spun Saffi back to him. A shriek escaped her at the look of dark hunger on Staffan's face.
"Staffan, this is a public place … " He bent closer and she tried to lean further away from him even though she was locked in his arms. "You're so shameless," she gasped.
"Yes," he said agreeably. "I'm shamelessly in love with you." And then he put a stop to all her only semi-serious protests by cupping her face and giving Saffi a hot, wet kiss in the middle of the hallway, with tons of people walking past them.
They cheered at the sight, of course.
Saffi moaned in embarrassment but even so, she couldn't help kissing him back, her body leaning towards him, her breasts already swelling in its cups.
Her unhesitatingly passionate response never failed to turn him on, and now was no exception. He had to sink his cock into her or he'd die. Swiftly surveying the hallway, he saw a half-opened door and dragged her immediately to it.
"Wha---" Saffi saw the name Katy Perry printed on the door and yelped, "No, Staffan!"
"Yes, Staffan, is what you should be saying," he countered and, after checking to make sure that the dressing room was empty, he pushed his protesting wife in. Before closing the door, he hailed the nearest uniformed guy and said, "Tell Katy I'm borrowing her dressing room to make love to my wife, will you?"
The guy nodded, wide-eyed, but even so Staffan could see that the younger man's mind was already working furiously at how much this story would sell to the tabloids.