"So, Randy," Marissa said quietly, slipping up next to the big body guard who stood at the end of the hall. She didn't know him except in passing, and was fairly sure he didn't know her except as an extra bother, but she was getting desperate. When she'd asked Matt, he'd said Randy was the only one who might know something about Tamara.
Randy turned to look at her. "Yes?"
"What can you tell me about Tamara?" She shifted her bag a little, trying not to betray how nervous she was. Luckily there had been a book store fairly close to the hotel.
He regarded her with some trepidation. "Does Chris know you're asking about her?"
Marissa glanced down. "Not in so many words," she said. "He won't tell me, and frankly, I'm a little nervous. I don't know what he's thinking, I don't understand why he reacted to me the way he did when Joey had that encounter with Gina, and I don't know how much of what she did to him is in his reactions to be me now. I just want to know what to do or avoid doing."
He didn't answer, and she finally looked up at him. "I don't think that's really fair," he said after a long time.
"What?" she asked.
"Asking around."
"Really. Well, what he's doing isn't really fair, either," she murmured to herself, and walked away from him.
It was all so frustrating, because it felt like this woman he disliked so much, had done so much to hurt him, was still interfering in his life, and he was letting her! He avoided all mention of her.... Marissa sighed. Well, there was nothing she could do, frankly. She started back to her room and her book, trying to calm herself down. If she ever met the woman, she'd probably rip her heart out and feed it to her. It was probably a good thing it wouldn't happen.
She struggled with it, and finally let it go. She had no control over Chris, only over herself and her own heart. And to some extent, how to lessen the blow, if it was coming - or how to keep it from coming all together. The key jammed into the door and she thrust it open, shed her shoes, and turned on the tv for background noise before sitting on the bed, her back against the wall. She knew she'd never be able to concentrate on that book.
It wasn't the first time she'd thought about breaking off this relationship. Everything was so unclear, and she felt like she was restricted, unable to even casually mention things she liked or show too much interest, afraid he'd think she was interested and expected him to get it for her. She sighed, thinking about the shirt he'd given her just a few months ago. She loved it, loved that he'd given it to her, but the circumstances surrounding it were scary.
Well, then, maybe it wasn't him. Maybe he'd changed his mind about her. But how was she supposed to know? It was all so confusing - never mind that she never saw him, didn't feel like she could tell anyone she was dating Chris for fear of that getting back to him. If that happened, she didn't even know how he'd react, although it was certain to be violent and cause a lot of hurt, especially to her.
Hang it all, she wanted to kill that woman for what she'd done to him, was still doing to him, and what that was doing to her. She wouldn't change what she'd done, the experiences she'd had for anything, but she did wish he hadn't been hurt so badly. She felt like he was just waiting for her to step wrong, and she didn't like the feeling. She had to do something, but she didn't know what, exactly.
Her thoughts went to her contemplations from this morning. Well, if she was going to break up with him, she was going to have to get far away from him. She'd been playing with the idea to go work in Austria for years, since she'd spent so many months there studying, and had even gotten information on getting a visa for work there. She'd actually figured it would take her about a month, maybe two, to get it all together.... She couldn't believe she was actually thinking this! But then, why not? She was becoming so wrapped up in Chris, in what he thought of her, that she was beginning to feel suffocated.
The hotel room was getting stuffy. Marissa stepped onto the balcony for a breath of fresh air, but the chill soon chased her back in, and she curled up in the bed to get warm again. Who's stupid idea had this been, anyway? she wondered, staring at the talk show on the tv without seeing anything. It wasn't as if she didn't have anything to do at home; she had a whole apartment to pack up. But she'd done it again, because he'd asked.
"Hey." The connecting door swung open and Lance slipped in, closing it behind him. "You okay?"
She smiled but didn't unbundle herself. "Freezing. I just walked outside. What are you doing back already?"
His pale green eyes flashed. "Chris is stuck in an interview they oh so conveniently forgot to tell us about, so I came to get you for lunch."
"Chris is stuck?" she asked, climbing out of bed and grabbing her jacket and room key.
"Yep. I've had mine." He grimaced as he turned the tv off while she put her shoes on. "Something about getting us on our own, I don't know." He shrugged, tossing the remote onto the bed. "Separate the people from the group and see if they can really get on our nerves. I'm not sure who's idea it was."
Marissa closed her door behind her, smiled hesitantly at the giant who took up the pace three steps behind Lance, and followed her friend down the hall. "Probably someone who thinks you have no life, or doesn't care." Do I have a life? she wondered silently.
He smiled slightly, pushing the button to call the elevator. "Probably. It would be easy to think they were doing this because you, Anika, and/or Clara are here, but it's like this all the time."
"Ouch." Yes, I have a life. Outside of Chris?
He grimaced. "They keep throwing things like this at us, I'm going to lose my reputation for knowing what's going on."
She laughed shortly, disturbed by her train of thought. "Is it that important to you?"
He shrugged. "Yeah, I guess it is. I just like being able to know what is going on, so I can plan around it."
"Not much time," she said softly. For you, or for me and Chris, her thoughts kept going. Do I really want this? The image of her life without Chris was suddenly bleak and boring. I guess that answers my question: no, I have no life outside of Chris. Not any more. The thought frightened her more than she wanted to admit.
"No. Are you okay?"
She looked up to see him watching her with worry, and she smiled. "Yeah, I'm fine. Just thinking."
"What about?" The elevator opened; she glanced at the body guard, then followed Lance out to the car, through the girls that had crowded the front of the hotel.
She smiled. "Nothing."
He looked at her as he helped her into the car. "Pretty preoccupied for it to be nothing."
"I'm sorry," she said automatically. He shook his head.
"It's not a problem. It's actually refreshing to know I can be as boring as a normal guy."
She looked at him, startled, to see him grinning, and she relaxed. "You are not boring, Lance. Trust me."
"So, where are your thoughts?"
"Right here. Just not on what you're talking about. Sorry."
"What are they on?"
"My life." Without Chris, her thoughts added.
"Not a comfortable thought, I guess?"
She settled deeper into the seat. "No, not really. Kind of disturbing."
"Hm," he said. "Questioning if you want this or not?"
"Sort of." Yes. You're far too smart for your own good, boyo, she thought. But your reasons are all wrong.
He regarded her silently. "It's not easy, dating one of us."
She laughed, almost involuntarily. "So I'm finding out. But I'm not entirely sure it has anything to do with that, other than never seeing Chris."
"With what, then?" he asked.
She sighed. "I don't really want to dump this on you, too," she said softly. "You've got enough problems in your life."
"I don't mind, Riss," he said.
"That's one problem," she said immediately. He looked startled.
"What?"
"This... 'Riss' thing. Do you know I have fought that for years? And then you start it, and everyone picks up on it... I feel, when people talk to me sometimes, like I'm nothing more than an extension of Chris." She hadn't even thought of it that way, but it was becoming true. He was almost her whole world, and that was not something she really wanted. It was not something she could take. She remembered the thoughts she'd had before Lance had come in, and suddenly, disappearing didn't sound like such a bad thing.
His eyes widened. "An extension of... But you're not!" he protested, looking extremely flustered.
She looked at him with a small smile. "I'm not sure of that," she admitted. "Lance, send JC next time. Or Joey." She paused. "No, better send Justin. He's unattached to someone I know." She sighed. "You keep getting all of my problems dumped on you."
He waved it off. "I dumped problems on you, too. Why don't you tell Chris?"
She turned away from him. "I don't know. I'm not sure he'd understand. And I don't know what he'd do with that information." She laughed mirthlessly. "How sad. I don't even trust my own boyfriend."
"What are you afraid of?" he asked suddenly, and she turned to look at him again.
"What?"
"You..." He gestured helplessly for a minute. "You act totally different around Chris than you do around the rest of us, and it's got him confused," he said.
"Good. Serves him right," she muttered. Lance chuckled, but sobered quickly.
"Not good, actually. I don't have the words to define it. It's like you're a completely different person, like you're afraid of something with him."
She looked confused. "What do you mean?"
"Yesterday," he said. "When JC wanted you to move, remember? You gave him all sorts of grief for making you move." She nodded. "Chris asked you to grab him a drink later, remember that?"
"Yes," she said warily.
"And you got up immediately." He took a deep breath. "You act, sometimes, like you feel like you have to do that. Do you ask him to do anything for you?"
She paused, then shook her head. "Not very often, no, unless it's something he can grab because he's taller." I feel like I have to prove to him that I can take care of myself, she thought. I can't let him think I expect anything of him.
"You need to relax around him." Lance's voice interrupted her thoughts.
"I can't. I don't know why." Yes, you do, her thoughts said angrily, and it's his fault. Something about not being what you portray. Something about using them, using him for your own ends.
Lance sighed. "No?" He didn't believe her, that was obvious. "All right, then, no more 'Riss'. But Marissa, talk to him about this. He deserves to know."
She smiled at him. "All right." And what are you going to say? her thoughts pestered her as she followed him into the restaurant.
"Riss, what's wrong?" Chris asked later that evening.
She sighed. "Don't call me that, please."
He blinked, and turned to look at her. "What's wrong? Why not?" It had become a joke, he thought. He used that nick name mostly because he liked it, and some because she didn't. Usually she joked a little about it, but this sounded serious.
Marissa played idly with the hem of her shirt. I guess this is it, she thought. "It's... Because I feel, sometimes, that I'm not my own person. That nick name has never been one of my favorites, and it's just too close to your name."
He straightened, brows drawn together, trying to understand her. "Why is that a problem?"
At least he was taking her seriously! "I'm not you. I'm my own person, and sometimes I feel like I am nothing more than an extension of you. I feel like I'm losing me, little by little." She hadn't realized she was so defensive about it.
He captured her hands, stilling them, and she looked at him in surprise. "I don't want you to do that," he said softly.
"I know that," she said, and looked away again. "I just... it gets so confusing when you're around, then you have things to do. I know, it's part of the package, and I'm not complaining," she said quickly when he took a breath.
"No?" he asked, when she didn't go on. "I am. I have been for months. We've been promised four days off, and none of them have materialized. JC literally had to sneak off for three hours just to find time with Anika last week, and unfortunately, that made security paranoid." He scowled. "I just wish he'd waited until you got here, and we could have all four of us sneaked out." He paused. "Snuck out?" He shook his head. "Anyway."
"It's part of it, Chris, and you know it. So do I, now." She couldn't meet his eyes.
"What are you going to do, then?" he asked.
She took a deep breath. "I'm going home for a while, then I'm going to disappear. I don't know where I'm going or anything, I just want to find... well, sorry to sound cliche, but I want to find me. And then strengthen that me to take whatever this life throws at me." Including you, she thought. Especially you.
His hands tightened on hers, and she looked at him. "What do you mean, disappear?" he asked, a little too casually.
"I'm just going to go away, Chris. Far from people who know me, where I can make of myself what I want."
"You can't just vanish." Desperation was beginning to peek through.
She smiled. "No, probably not for long anyway. But if I don't tell my mother where I'm going, it'll be a little longer." She had to fight to keep it light.
"Not tell your mother?" His voice sounded strained, and she looked at him. He was staring at her as if seeing her for the first time.
"Chris...." She pulled one hand free from his grip and touched his face. "This will give you a chance, too, you know."
It was a conscious effort for him to not lean into her touch. "For what?"
She paused, then stood up and started pacing. "I'm a firm believer in spending time away from someone." She turned and nearly ran into him.
"Spending time away from someone?" he asked, incredulous.
"Yeah. Well, okay, so usually I mean it for people who are engaged, but this may not..." She suddenly laughed. "You know, I just heard what I said. Forget I said it at all."
He just looked at her for a minute. "That's not the whole thing, is it."
She shifted nervously, her eyes focused on the floor. "Not... exactly."
"Then what? You can talk to me about anything," he said softly.
"Except Tamara," she said, barely loud enough for him to hear her.
Chris flinched and stepped back. "Um...."
Marissa nodded when he didn't continue. "I understand that she hurt you. That's painfully obvious, both in your actions and in the way your ‘brothers' act whenever she comes up." She shook her head. "And I just can't compete with that any more, Chris, I just can't compete with what she did to you, so I have to... I need to get some distance from it."
Chris blinked at her, and she almost turned away. He slipped his arms around her before she could, and she leaned into him, closing her eyes. "Are you breaking up with me?" he asked softly, still stunned with the news she'd given him.
"I'm not sure what I'm doing, Chris," she replied. "Ever since that trip to Orlando, I haven't been sure. So much has happened...." She'd come to rely on his presence, on his email and phone conversations, she didn't know how she'd do without. That bleak vision of her life without him flashed before her eyes again. Then the thoughts of living and working in Vienna. It didn't look any less bleak. Was she that wrapped up in him?
"Can I help?" He loved her hair; it was long, soft, and always smelled faintly of mint. He rubbed his cheek against it.
"I don't think so," she said, and gave a soft chuckle. "You're part of the problem, remember?"
"Only part?"
"Only part. I'm part of it, too, if not most of it." She drew back enough to be able to look him in the eyes. "You...." She was lost. She had to look away to find her train of thought again. He never wore his heart on his sleeve; it was there in his eyes, and lately the defenses he usually had up were gone. It was a little unnerving. "You deserve someone a little more steady than I am," she murmured. And a little less jealous, her thoughts added. "So, yeah, I guess I am breaking up with you."
Chris took a deep shuddering breath. "Can I still email you?"
"Please," she said, almost too quickly. "I'd like to stay friends." Unless I get in the way, she added silently, and then couldn't decide if she hoped he found someone else or not.
There was nothing else for her to say on that topic; apparently, Chris felt the same way. He let her go reluctantly and resumed his seat on the couch. She sat nervously across from him. "Are you packed, then?" he finally asked.
"Yes." She smiled hesitantly. "I don't think I ever unpacked, really."
He chuckled. "No, I guess not."
Further uncomfortable silence was forestalled by Justin, who burst in the door. "Hey, we're back."
"Really," Marissa grinned. "What was your first clue?" She had never been so glad to see him in her life. It was kind of scary. This was twice he'd rescued her.
"You're early," Chris said. She couldn't decide what his tone was.
Justin grimaced. "Tim told us we had to be back by now."
"Oh, it's probably my fault," Marissa said, smiling shyly, before Chris could say anything. "Something about being at the airport early."
"How early?" Justin demanded.
"Too early for you. I'll tell you good bye now." She got up to give him a hug.
"At least we didn't leave you behind this time," Justin told her.
She laughed. "It wasn't you guys. Travel safe, Curly."
"We always do." He left the room again, and she turned to Chris.
"I'll say good bye to you here, too," she said softly, and leaned down to kiss his cheek.
He looked up just in time - his timing was always perfect - and then pulled her down into his lap and kissed her like he'd been doing, sending her emotions into a tail spin. There was a touch of anger in his eyes when he drew back, but it faded as she watched, trying to catch her breath. "I don't like this, Marissa. I don't... I wish you wouldn't go." His voice was soft, strained.
She came incredibly close to telling him she wouldn't, dangerously close to it. It would be so easy to be subverted, to do what he wanted. But she couldn't. It would make them both so unhappy. She had to do this for her. For him, too, but mostly for her. She knew that. "I know, Chris." She couldn't get anything else out.
Neither noticed Joey and JC step into the room and immediately step back out, exchanging amused glances.
"Is there anything...." He was interrupted by a knock, and sighed. "That will be everyone else," he muttered, and helped Marissa sit up. "Come in!" he called as she slid off his lap and onto the couch next to him.
"We don't have much time," JC said with an apologetic look at Chris as he and Joey stepped back into the room. "Tim's insisting we get to bed, and we wanted to say good bye to Marissa."
Chris growled low in his throat. "He's not my father," he muttered.
Marissa stood to give JC a hug. "Next time, I'll bring your friend," he said softly.
"Thanks. That would be great. It gets lonely when you guys are busy and it's just me." Next time may not happen, she thought to herself.
He smiled. "Yeah, it's lonely for me, too."
Marissa chuckled and turned to give Joey a hug. "Stay out of trouble," she told him.
"Hey!"
"What? Are you going to tell Clara everything you do?"
"No."
"Then get into as much trouble as you like, and hope no one lets the cat out of the bag."
He grinned and hugged her again. "We'll miss you."
"I'll miss you, too," she said softly. "Where's Lance?"
"Here." He stumbled into the room, turned, and scowled out the door. "Thanks for the shove, Justin," he muttered, and walked over to Marissa. "We'll see you later?" he asked softly.
She smiled. "Certainly, sometime," she said. Unless Chris hates me for this, her thoughts prodded her as she hugged him.
"Fly safe," he told her.
"You travel safe, goof. Sleep well."
He waved slightly as he followed JC out of the room, then Marissa turned to Chris again. "Good night, Chris."
He stood up and reached a hand out, then let it fall. "Good night." She turned and left the room for her own; once the door closed behind her, she threw herself on her bed and cried.
The next morning, she was up by the time the wake up call came. She simply grabbed her suitcase and started for the elevator, determined to wait downstairs. She hadn't slept much, and had been awake long before the phone rang. The elevator dinged, letting her know it had arrived, then the doors opened. But she wasn't the only one to step into the elevator.
Chris looked like she felt: as if he hadn't slept all night. He was unshaven, his eyes puffy, his dark hair mussed still from sleep. He looked like he'd dressed haphazardly, in the dark. "Morning," he mumbled. "There are days I wish I had the reputation Justin did. Then there are mornings I'm glad I can wake up whenever I want."
"Which is today?" she asked softly.
He tilted his head to the side. "I'm not sure," he told her speculatively.
"I vote for the second," she said. "I much prefer to be awake in the morning."
"Can I kiss you?" he asked abruptly. She stared at him. "I thought I'd ask, since we have officially broken up, and I was threatened with hospitalization if I take so much as a step off this elevator until it's back on my floor."
"Hospitalization?"
"Please?" he asked softly; she nodded, and he stepped closer to her.
She'd thought the kiss last night was electric; it paled in comparison to this one. The ding of the elevator saved her, as he pushed her away from him, pain in his eyes. She didn't take the chance to regain her composure, staring at him in complete dismay, not certain how she felt that he'd pushed her away. He was watching her, unable to catch his breath any more than she could. Nothing changed until the doors opened.
If that kiss had lasted even a second longer, Marissa thought as she fled the elevator and the hotel, she would have given up all thoughts of being anything but that extension of Chris she'd told Lance about. He was so... strong, so intense, and she didn't know how to react to it. She couldn't even remember if she'd said good bye, she realized later as she sat on the plane to fly back to Portland and her half-packed apartment. And she wondered, as she packed the last of her stuff into boxes, if not saying good bye had been the best way to do it, anyway.
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