Those two arduous days were tough, but that last night cemented something between us, and somehow, I was terrified our bond would break the second I left him to his own devices.
Leaving River after that heady, intoxicating night was a hardship. I thought the experience would drive a wider wedge between us, but it actually went the opposite. The man showed me just how much he loved me after he asked Stassy to leave us, not with words, but with his kisses and his sole attention.
Due to that extra day off, I had to make up for the lost time, and I never had the chance to fly out to see him again before he went back home to continue touring.
Our communication wasn't what I had expected it to be, but he was responding. Phone calls were nil, and the text messages weren't on a daily basis. More like every other day. The stark contrast from before was vast, but I remained hopeful, believing this was a phase we had to endure before things got better, and that once I was back Stateside, we would continue working on our issues. I would free my calendar to be with him just to prove how serious and dedicated I was to make amends.
Everything I did on the island, I thought of River, ensuring my actions wouldn't flag his anger.
It had been five weeks since Stockholm, and Juan and I were in a middle of a silent feud. After getting back on the island, I had completely shut him out, barely responding when he tried to breach the subject of Barcelona. At first, I felt rotten for treating him like a disease, but it couldn't be helped. I had to apply drastic measures. The man almost had me, and I just couldn't risk being trapped in that position ever again.
The sweet guy transformed into a little asshat, making sarcasm his main weapon. There were moments when I was tempted to strike back and chew him out. Then I thought better of it, believing that by not retaliating, it would simmer his resentment towards me, which in turn, would be beneficial for me in the long run.
The past weeks flew by without a touch or a kiss from Juan. Well, apart from filming that was. There hadn't been any intimacy between us once the camera stopped rolling. A wise move on my part, because it turned out to be fruitful.
Tomorrow was our last day filming, and I couldn't wait to just go home and work on my personal life. River expected me to arrive early Monday morning in Los Angeles, but he would be in Washington. We hadn't discussed what would happen once I was back home; he was always too busy 'figuring things out' with me. We were worlds apart, and not just in the physical sense. I was getting antsy.
Now back in my hotel room after the entire production got together for a goodbye celebratory dinner harrowing disappointment filled me when I saw I had no messages from River. The entire time during the party, Juan had barely directed me a glance, too busy flirting with this one hot Spanish lady. I was a little irritated that he had turned into such a major douchebag but, oh well, it was for the best.
I shook my head as immense frustration filled me. On my balcony, I paced as I tried to rationalize River's emotional withdrawal after giving me the impression that we were on the mend. Why doesn't he reach out anymore? It always had to be me initiating contact. Did he have a change of heart? God, I hoped not.
A cold shiver ran through me, recoiling from the horrid thought that sprouted from deep-rooted fear. He wouldn't do that, would he? I had been so good. Surely that counted for something?
"What am I waiting for?" I gripped my phone so hard my hand shook from pressure. "He won't ever call … " Five weeks was a long time not to hear his voice. So again, what was I waiting for?
"Oh, fuck it," I muttered under my breath as I dialed his number.
Ring …
It kept ringing. My heart hammered against my chest so hard that I felt faint. And on the fourth ring, before the doomed automated speech of the voicemail lady would shatter what little hope I had left in me, River picked up.
"Mmm … lo?"
His sleepy voice barely calmed my pitter-pattering heart.
"Sorry, did I wake you?" I asked breathlessly, eyes boring into the glowing moon in the sky, anxiously waiting for him to respond.
"Cara?" he grumbled as if he wasn't sure who his caller was.
"Yeah, it's me. Cara Quinn." Why the fuck did I just do that? You idiot. Embarrassment filled me as I mouthed my own stupidity.
"Hi, Cara Quinn," he sexily rasped out, sending delicious tingles all over my body. There was amusement in his voice, obviously teasing me.
I immediately felt lighter, lifting all the worries away, replaced by this profound feeling, overwhelming my being, realizing the depth of sadness from missing him.