|I can't get rid of you
Author: CoccinelleMenthol PM
It starts with Michael coming to Boston only to find Julia trying to save her marriage. But she finds it hard to do so with him around. For the ones who know me, you know I ship Julia and Michael very hard so you should only read this if you're okay with this pairing because this will be mainly about them.Rated: Fiction T - English - Romance/Drama - Julia H. & Michael S. - Chapters: 18 - Words: 29,682 - Reviews: 16 - Favs: 6 - Follows: 11 - Updated: 01-13-13 - Published: 09-09-12 - id: 8512378
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
I knew it would be hard to face you. That's why I didn't want them to hire you back, that's why I threatened to quit. But they wouldn't hear me. They didn't understand that my heart would be torn between you and Frank and that I might take a foolish decision once again. Derek thinks that it's irrelevant. Eileen thinks that I was the one to make the mistake and that I shouldn't keep you from saving the show. Tom thinks I should put the show first. Frank thinks I should be able to ignore you.
They're all wrong. I already knew it and you're just proving me that.
Derek is wrong, you're standing there and telling me you came back for me, so it's all but irrelevant.
Eileen is wrong, the show doesn't need you to save it. I'm not saying you're not a wonderful singer and actor, because you are. You're one of the best I've ever had the chance to see. I'm just saying that somebody else could have done it. Rebecca is not that great anyway, you singing perfectly next to her is only going to make her sound worse.
Tom is wrong, my family is more important than the show, that any show actually, no matter how good they are. I finally understood that. Someone could step in for me and I could always write something else, whereas Frank and Leo are all I have. I wouldn't break if I didn't get to send Marilyn on Broadway but I would break if my family rejected me. This time when Frank disappeared after he found out about us, I thought I was going to die. I don't want to have to go through that ever again.
And most importantly of all Frank is wrong. I can't resist you. I don't know what the matter with me is, but you're standing right there in front of me, and I know I should push you away, but all I seem to want is to pull you closer and give in to your kisses. I want to feel your lips brushing against mine. I want to feel your hands everywhere on my body, your fingers lingering in places where you know it's driving me crazy. I want to feel your breath against my skin when you whisper sweet words to me while we're making love. There truly is something magnetic about you. You're not even standing that close and I'm already quivering with desire, anticipating everything you could do to me. You don't even have to touch me.
But I can't have that. I'm pushing you away because we both decided to work on our families and we can't give up now. You know I'm right. Why are you giving me that look? It looks as if I was plunging a knife right into your heart. You can't give me that look. You know I can't stand to see you hurting. I have to stop looking into your eyes. They've always been the key to my surrender. I see the love in them and I give up the fight, because it mirrors what I feel and I can't keep up the fight against it.
Yes, I said love. Because that's what it is. There is no use in denying it. I made my peace with it. I'm in love with somebody else than my husband and it's wrong but that's what it is, it's love. I won't ever say it to you though. You might get too confident. You might think that you really have a chance with me, although you don't. Me loving you doesn't mean I love him any less. Or maybe it does. If I'm honest maybe I love him less, but you'll never know that. I'm not even sure of it myself. A small part of me is telling me that it's the truth but the rest of me doesn't want to believe it.
I take my eyes away from you and look behind you. And suddenly I can't catch my breath. You take it as a sign of me succumbing to your words but you're wrong. I can't catch my breath because Frank is standing on the stairs behind you and he's watching us. He is not moving in the slightest. Just watching. He doesn't see that I can see him. I guess he is trying to figure out if I'm really done with you, like I have told him I am.
I have to show him that I'm over you. But I can't do that by standing so close to you. It's too dangerous, I might just give in and he would be front row seeing this. It would be the end of my marriage. I've got to get out of here.
I tempt to escape you and run towards the stairs but you grab my wrist. You're not done with me. You know as well as I do that I want you badly. What you don't know is that I'm being watched by my husband. This time you won't get what you want. But it doesn't keep you from begging and it doesn't keep my heart from clutching at your words.
"Jules, don't run away." Jules, I love when you call me Jules. You're the only one to call me that, do you know that? You always had and you always will. I'll never let anybody else use that nickname. It's the only thing that I can let you have. I'm Frank's but Jules is yours.
But today it doesn't matter that you call me that, today I'll stay strong and walk towards my husband. I pull my wrist away from your grasp. Your eyes are filled with pain and now it feels like you're the one stabbing me. Why are you doing this to me? Why did you come back?
"I'm sorry." It escaped my lips. The feeling of rejection I could read on your face was just too much to handle. It was stupid. Now you think you got to me. And you did, but I don't want you to think that. You lean closer and your lips reach for a kiss and I almost let it happen because you're so intoxicating and at that point I would kill for your lips on mine. But then I remember that Frank is watching us and I take one step back. You don't know how much it's killing me to do that. Probably just as much as it is for you to watch me do that.
You try to grab my hand but suddenly you're on the floor. Frank just punched you. I didn't see him approaching you. I guess he found that you were being too persistent. For what it's worth I didn't think you were. You saw behind the mask I was putting on and you tried to make me do what I really wanted to. But I can't tell you that now, and I probably never should. Frank is my husband and I should stand by his side, even when he's yelling at you and punching you.
"Stay away from her! Can't you see she doesn't want you?" It hurts. You don't know how much it hurts. He shouldn't have punched you. I want to scream. I want to rush by your side and kiss you where he just hit you. I want to tell you that I want you, that Frank has no idea what he is talking about. But I can't. That would ruin my family. So I just stand there, fighting back the tears that are threatening to pour. I can see your eyes swelling too. You're fighting the tears too. What have we done? How did we get here?
But you don't want to cry in front of him. You don't want to give him the satisfaction. Or maybe you know that if you cry, I'll cry too, and that it would be the end of me. I know you wish Frank would be out of the picture but I also know that you respect the fact that I want to stay with him. I've always told you that he was what I needed to be happy and all you want is my happiness. Believe me, I know. And I love you even more for that.
"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have come, it was all a big mistake. I don't know what I was thinking." And just like that, you walk away. I know you're lying. If there is one thing I've learned in the past five years is that words have never been reliable in our relationship (or whatever you want to call it, I don't really care, for me it's a relationship, when there are so much feelings involved, it's a relationship). We're far too often saying exactly the opposite of what we want to say.
Frank grabs my hand and we walk away too, in the opposite direction. His hand is cold compared to the heat that was radiating from your body, I want to pull away but I can't. I see that he is deep in his thoughts so, without him noticing, I turn my head towards your back walking out. You do the same and for one second I can swear that, just like me, there is one single tear running down your cheek. I close my eyes and, before wiping off the tear, pray that it's not the last time I see you. That's not how I want to say goodbye. Hell, I'm not even sure I want to say goodbye.