Summary: A year after she leaves Robert, Lily reflects on what has become of her life.
A/N: For some reason, this story begged (me) to be written. Anyone who likes that movie has to know that Lily made a huge mistake in leaving Robert, although we also know that Robert was never meant for someone like Lily. But it just seems right that Lily's world with Ryan the aerobics instructor should come crashing down and leave her wondering what life less ordinary could have been hers.
Disclaimer: I don't own them. I don't much of anything.
A Life More Ordinary
The Miami weather was depressingly typical as the heat swelled again in the fading days of September. The sky reflected a constant hue of weary gray that hung low over the inhabitants of the city. It was hardly the sun-filled paradise Lily had been hoping for.
Then again lot of this move had been less than she had hoped for. She had been so sure in her decision to come here, so eager and excited. Fumbling to get her car keys out of her purse, she cursed bitterly as the sky opened up and began to pour on her. No, this was definitely not what she had envisioned.
Ryan had promised her so much more. She had been lucky to meet him, or so she had thought at the time. He had come into the diner one lunch, hot and sweaty, clad in nothing more than a wife-beater and gym shorts. His defined muscles glistened, even in the diner's dim lighting. With a sweep of his hand, he had shoved his sandy-blonde hair back out of his face, flashing a manly and brilliant smile up at her.
It made her tremble, and she smiled idiotically in return. Her handwriting appeared sloppily on the notepad, and her fingers ached from gripping the pen so tightly while taking his order. No man like that had ever been interested in her. She was a plain kind of girl—not ugly, just not attractive. Her body was never bad, just never noteworthy, especially under the unflattering pink waitress outfit.
She dreamed of men like this, and of the heavenly moments when they would ask her out. So when he asked if she was busy that night, she had melted immediately and said no.
The romance had seemed so real, but in retrospect, it had been far less magical. Their first date landed her in a dingy bar, where Ryan had started off drinking a more formal drink, sipping it slowly while listening to her ramble. It hadn't seemed odd then when his rounds came quicker and quicker, and soon he was belching out his life history while tumbling into the back of a cab. And when she found herself in his apartment that night, her emotions were soaring, her body yearning, and she surrendered to his animalistic demands, giving little care of the man she left back at her place.
Robert would never guess. As she tumbled home that night in her ostentatious heals and wrinkled dress, her infidelity sparked a twinge of guilt. Robert would believe anything she told him. And he did, willingly and without question. His innocence fueled another brief stint of guilt. But it had been so manly, she had thought, soothing herself. Ryan's blunt sexual advances had been intoxicating.
The affair had continued, under Robert's oblivious nose. And eventually she came to resent Robert and his naiveté. She needed her hopes and dreams of passion and torrid love to be filled—now. Robert—the man, no boy, who had charmed her with his dreams and sweet words—was working up to a life, to a solid foundation. He was sensitive to her needs and desires and attempted to satisfy her in every way. But he lacked authority in the relationship, and Lily was tired of being in control. Ryan's unquestioned supremacy in the relationship seduced her, and she let herself be drawn to him.
Yet she couldn't leave Robert quite so easily. Ryan knew of his existence with indifference, not even asking her to remain faithful to him. There was something about Robert she was reluctant to leave. She kept telling herself that she hadn't wanted to hurt him, but as she stood in the Florida rain, struggling with her car keys, she knew it was something else.
The door finally opened, but by that point, it was really insignificant. Her dingy, pale-yellow waitress dress was soaked, and her hair clumped about her head. Nonetheless, she dropped thankfully into the car's dry, however dirty, interior and started it. It groaned once, failing to turn over. But she tried it again, more insistently, and was rewarded when it noisily came to life. Feeling numb, she put the car into gear, and began heading home.
Home. Home to Ryan. Ryan was between jobs right now. His promising career as a TV host to a workout show had fallen though before it started, and he had been forced to look elsewhere for work. Lily had hoped that she could attend school, perhaps, and earn a degree in something meaningful. But the bills piled up, and the money wasn't coming in, and she had been forced to find a job as a waitress. Although Ryan was a talent aerobics instructor, there appeared to be little need for another one in Miami, so Ryan had been stuck in unemployment for months now. But his spending hadn't stopped, nor had his drinking or his manhood. Things had hit a low when she had found him with another woman last month, making love in their bedroom.
She had resolved to leave him, but quickly found that she couldn't. Maybe she just lacked the initiative and guts to dump someone, but it never came easy. But leaving Ryan was not like leaving Robert. She couldn't leave Ryan because he had been her great hope, and to leave him would be admitting that it had failed. And without it, she wouldn't know what to do. But with Robert—she hadn't wanted to leave Robert in many ways.
Absently, she turned on the radio. She turned it up as she recognized the song.
Somewhere, beyond the sea
Somewhere, waiting for me
Another stands on golden sands
And watches the ships that go sailing
Richie Vanderlo's debut single rose the charts quickly, and Lily was thoroughly enamored with the song. It had stunned everyone with its popularity, the song being far from pop or most mainstream hits. Yet there was something inherently beautiful about its age yet timelessness as if it evoked a sense of sincerity pop artist generally failed to achieve. She often thought of the one waiting for her and wondered when she would meet him, or sadly, if she already had.
Somewhere beyond the sea
She's there, watching for me
And if I could fly like birds on high
Then straight to her arms I'd go sailing
What if she'd had that chance already? What if he had come for her and asked her to sail away with him, off into the great skies of the unknown? What if she had refused him? Sacrificed him…for a man?
It's far beyond the star
It's near beyond the moon
I know beyond a doubt
My heart will lead me there soon
She thought she had known her heart, but she was wrong. She knew her hormones—that was all that had led her to Ryan. Her heart—her heart had been telling her something else entirely.
We'll meet beyond the shore
We'll kiss just like before
And happy we'll be beyond the sea
And ever again we'll go sailing
She began to cry as Richie Vanderlo's smooth voice filtered through the antique car radio, a swelling of brass instruments accompanying him. All she had waiting for her at home was a man who didn't know what love was, and a life more insubstantial than she had ever thought possible. She was miserable.
I know beyond a doubt
My heart will lead me there soon
And happy we'll be beyond the sea
And ever again we'll go sailing…
In an old, run down car, Lily drove home just like she had for months now, still wearing the same old yellow dress, her bleached-blonde hair limp against her head, the dark roots prominent. Her makeup smeared across her wet face, not able to hide the tears now flowing freely. She dreamt of something more, but she had wanted it now. As Richie Vanderlo's voice soothed her into a numbing state of existence, she thought distantly of sailing away into the arms of a dreamer, a young Scotsman who had held the promise of something more, but whom she forsook for a life more ordinary.