Guitarist Bond in Shanghai, While Wife Stays Behind. Her back stiffened and she straightened up. Damn paparazzi. They weren’t usually antagonistic.
Another caption caught her eye. No Wife, Happy Life. She snorted at the insult. It was rude. She didn’t like it and wondered why she didn’t remember reading it before. Depicted next to the caption were a series of three photos which all showed Tommy and Angel engrossed in each other’s eyes. One photo captured Angel feeding Tommy something from a skewer with his fingers. Tommy’s teeth were just touching the meat and his lips were drawn back into an open smile. In the next photo Tommy held a T-shirt up to Angel’s chest to check the size. It was a rock band with Chinese writing. In the last photo they were walking with their arms around each other on the beach underneath a magenta sky. It was taken from the back and Tommy had his head on Angel’s shoulder. It was the epitome of romance. All three photos portrayed the closeness between the two, and she missed them more than ever.
She flipped back to the other photos and re-read the captions again. She never paid much attention to them before, but now the cruel connotations were a harsh slap in the face. She looked closely at the photos and at the love that transpired between Tommy and Angel through the camera.
The empty bed was a lonesome reminder of their separation and her heartache was augmented by the exaggerated newspaper headlines that insinuated they didn’t miss her. She forgot how insensitive and cruel the paparazzi could be. They took the truth and spun it into lies. They wove a tale of inaccuracy to sell a story, no matter who got hurt along the way. She hated it.
She glanced back down at the scrap book but her vision was blurred by the tears that welled in her eyes. She slammed the scrapbook closed with a loud clap and threw it on the floor. She clutched Tommy’s pillow in her arms and fell into her own spot on the bed. The pillow still contained the scent of Tommy’s hair, but it didn’t console her. She longed to touch his silky hair again and run her fingers through it. She reached across the bed and grabbed Angel’s pillow and huddled it into her arms next to Tommy’s. She was alone with no one to comfort her. She buried her face in the two pillows, inhaled the lingering scent of Tommy and Angel, and cried until she fell asleep.
Chapter Thirteen
Graduation day wouldn’t mean much without Tommy and Angel. It did bring about a sense of self-worth now that Jessi had her degree, but there were many days when she wanted to throw it all away and join Immortal Angel on tour. Without Tommy and Angel, two-thirds of Jessi’s heart was missing. She was part of a trio, and then she was alone. There were no hands to hold or arms around her shoulder, there was no physical body to lie next to at night and her profuse sex life was suddenly reduced to self-satisfaction.
They would be reunited in a few hours, just in time for her graduation ceremony, and the torture of their time apart would be over. She carried her phone with her so she didn’t miss Tommy’s call. He promised to let her know the moment his plane landed. A giddy laugh rose from her throat at the thought of seeing Tommy and Angel again.
The phone rang while she was retrieving her dress from the walk-in closet in the bedroom. She pulled it from the pocket of her bathrobe so fast that it almost flew into the air. She laughed into the phone. “Are you in New York?”
“Yes.”
She sighed with a deep sense of relief. Knowing that they would be together in less than an hour awakened every cell in her body and brought the most amazing rush of euphoria. “I can’t wait until you get here. How was your flight? I hope you’re not too tired.”
“I’m rejuvenated at the sound of your voice. I want to take you in my arms, look deep into your eyes and tell you how
Another caption caught her eye. No Wife, Happy Life. She snorted at the insult. It was rude. She didn’t like it and wondered why she didn’t remember reading it before. Depicted next to the caption were a series of three photos which all showed Tommy and Angel engrossed in each other’s eyes. One photo captured Angel feeding Tommy something from a skewer with his fingers. Tommy’s teeth were just touching the meat and his lips were drawn back into an open smile. In the next photo Tommy held a T-shirt up to Angel’s chest to check the size. It was a rock band with Chinese writing. In the last photo they were walking with their arms around each other on the beach underneath a magenta sky. It was taken from the back and Tommy had his head on Angel’s shoulder. It was the epitome of romance. All three photos portrayed the closeness between the two, and she missed them more than ever.
She flipped back to the other photos and re-read the captions again. She never paid much attention to them before, but now the cruel connotations were a harsh slap in the face. She looked closely at the photos and at the love that transpired between Tommy and Angel through the camera.
The empty bed was a lonesome reminder of their separation and her heartache was augmented by the exaggerated newspaper headlines that insinuated they didn’t miss her. She forgot how insensitive and cruel the paparazzi could be. They took the truth and spun it into lies. They wove a tale of inaccuracy to sell a story, no matter who got hurt along the way. She hated it.
She glanced back down at the scrap book but her vision was blurred by the tears that welled in her eyes. She slammed the scrapbook closed with a loud clap and threw it on the floor. She clutched Tommy’s pillow in her arms and fell into her own spot on the bed. The pillow still contained the scent of Tommy’s hair, but it didn’t console her. She longed to touch his silky hair again and run her fingers through it. She reached across the bed and grabbed Angel’s pillow and huddled it into her arms next to Tommy’s. She was alone with no one to comfort her. She buried her face in the two pillows, inhaled the lingering scent of Tommy and Angel, and cried until she fell asleep.
Chapter Thirteen
Graduation day wouldn’t mean much without Tommy and Angel. It did bring about a sense of self-worth now that Jessi had her degree, but there were many days when she wanted to throw it all away and join Immortal Angel on tour. Without Tommy and Angel, two-thirds of Jessi’s heart was missing. She was part of a trio, and then she was alone. There were no hands to hold or arms around her shoulder, there was no physical body to lie next to at night and her profuse sex life was suddenly reduced to self-satisfaction.
They would be reunited in a few hours, just in time for her graduation ceremony, and the torture of their time apart would be over. She carried her phone with her so she didn’t miss Tommy’s call. He promised to let her know the moment his plane landed. A giddy laugh rose from her throat at the thought of seeing Tommy and Angel again.
The phone rang while she was retrieving her dress from the walk-in closet in the bedroom. She pulled it from the pocket of her bathrobe so fast that it almost flew into the air. She laughed into the phone. “Are you in New York?”
“Yes.”
She sighed with a deep sense of relief. Knowing that they would be together in less than an hour awakened every cell in her body and brought the most amazing rush of euphoria. “I can’t wait until you get here. How was your flight? I hope you’re not too tired.”
“I’m rejuvenated at the sound of your voice. I want to take you in my arms, look deep into your eyes and tell you how
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