They sat there admiring their girls, the past six months they had spent with the loves of their lives. Marissa smiled as she watched the twins sitting on the blanket before her and Ryan, already regretting what she was about to do.
"I could take them back to LA with me; send them to you every other week," Marissa offered.
"They're six months old Marissa. We're not shipping out six months old twins back and forth across the country," Ryan countered. "I could keep them here in New York with me for a year or two, then send them to you."
"Ryan you're not seriously asking me to miss the first year or two of our daughters' lives are you?" Marissa asked, appalled that he would even ask that question.
Ryan was silent for a second before saying, "No you're right. I would never ask you to do that."
They sat there in silence for a minute longer, both knowing how it was going to end but attempting to avoid it at all costs.
"You know what this has come down to don't you?" Marissa asked, tears building in her eyes.
"You'll take Ellie?" Ryan asked, almost as though he was asking permission. Between Ellie and Emma, Ellie was so much more like Marissa, even though the girls were six months old and the majority of their personality hadn't developed. Marissa nodded and sniffed back her tears, finding it incomprehensible that she was about to leave her daughter, her little six month old baby, along with the love of her life, behind in New York while she took the other twin to LA.
"An you'll keep Emma," Marissa finished, shuddering her breath and holding back her tears by clenching her jaw. Ryan looked over at Marissa and wanted to reach out and comfort her the way he use to; to hold her in his arms and know everything would be fine. But he knew that that was over.
"They can't ever meet each other, ever know that they have a twin that the other parent is raising. All they can know is that the other parents walked out, as painful as that is," Marissa said, tilting her head back to gather her composure and then leaning forwards to look at her girls. She couldn't believe that this was the last time she would ever see them together, the last time she would ever see Ryan.
With a casual glance at her watch, Marissa cleared her throat and stood. Her flight left in four hours and she still had to make it to the airport. She closed the small space separating her from her daughters and picked Emma up, cradling her tiny baby to her chest and burying her head in her neck, noticing Ryan going to the blanket as well and picking up Ellie, both Ryan and Marissa savoring the last moments with the daughters they would never see again.
With a last, sobbing gasp from Marissa, she extracted her head from Emma's neck and handed her to Ryan, simultaneously taking Ellie from Ryan's hesitant arms.
"Goodbye Ryan," Marissa said after slipping Ellie's coat onto her tiny body.
He walked two of his girls to the door and carried her bags to the elevator in front of their penthouse door, pressing the down button and waiting for the ding. He turned his eyes to Marissa, Ellie clutched tight in her trembling arms, silently begging her not to go. As the elevator reach the top, Marissa stepped in with the luggage and gave Ryan a sad look.
But as the doors started to slide closed, Ryan stuck out his foot and stopped the doors. "Marissa please," Ryan begged, his eyes pleading. "We can do this Marissa, this is just another bump in the road, just another fight. We can fix this!"
Marissa let out another breath, one she hadn't realized she was holding, and gave up fighting her tears. "Ryan," her voice was quiet but confidant. "Ryan we've tried everything," she sobbed. "We just need to get away from each other." It pained her to say that more than anything, but it was the truth.
In a swift motion, Ryan stepping into the elevator and pressed his lips against Marissa's, careful not to squish Ellie and Emma who were both still in their parents arms, oblivious to the fact that this would be the last time they ever say each other. "I'll always love you Marissa," he said as he stepped back out.
"I love you too Ryan," Marissa said as the doors slid shut and the sight of Ryan and Emma disappeared for the last time.
For the next three hours, Ryan sat outside the doors of the elevator, Emma sitting contently in his lap, waiting for the elevator to ding and Marissa to step out with Ellie in her arms. But she never did, and Ryan accepted it.
"Well," he said to the little girl tight in his embrace. "I guess it's just you and me from now on."
15 years, 5 months later
"Emma we're going to be late!" Ryan called up the stairs of the upper-east side Manhattan penthouse.
From the top of the spiraling staircase came his sixteen-year old daughter decked in a simple summer Gucci dress, black, that accentuated her small frame, her long golden-blonde hair hanging loose and wavy, cork-wedge sandals leading the way down.
"You look cute," Ryan complimented, handing his daughter her black Fendi bag.
"Oh great! Now I have to go change," she joked in return.
Ryan laughed, glad that Emma was making light of the situation and knowing he shouldn't have let Seth anywhere near his daughter while they visited Newport in the summers. She finished the trip down the stairs and kissed her fathers cheek. Ryan handed her, her thick black headband she had given him to hold onto earlier. She took it with a cheeky smile and pushed it behind her ears, dragging her sideways cut bangs back and adjusting her hair in the circular mirror at the base of the stairs.
"Stop fussing Em," Ryan told his daughter, taking her elbow in his palm and guiding her towards the front door. "You look fantastic."
Ryan left Emma standing by the door while he grabbed his wallet, then returned to the front door. He noted Emma's stature immediately. Where his usually confidant, smart, out-going daughter normally held herself, his little girl was replaced with a shy, head-hung girl who resembled a five-year old who had done something wrong.
"Hey," he said, reaching out his hand and tilting her chin up, looking into the eyes that were identical to his own. "Sweetie what's wrong?"
She looked up, responding to one of the many endearments he constantly used. Ryan dropped his eyes to the hem of Emma's black silk dress which she was fidgeting nervously with.
"I know this is tough babe," he said, using another one of the endearments. "But before you know it this funeral will be over and we can go back to our regular old boring lives," Ryan said with one of his famous half grins.
Emma nodded and allowed her father to guide her out the front door with a loving hand on the small of her back. Despite what people said, Emma knew that he and her dad were going to make it. They had gone sixteen years with only each other, they would pull each other through this too, just like they always did.
Los Angeles"Ellie, Ellie, over here!" The voices were coming from all four points around her, light from the paparazzi, or shutter-bugs as she liked to call them, blinding. But she remained poised, lips pulled into a tight smile, half her face hidden behind her large, dark, Donna Karen sunglasses. She was trained in the art of perfection, the spitting image of beauty, grace, and elegance. It was the mask that she lived behind, always there, just like her father, hiding her, shielding her from the terrors of the world she was forced to face every day. This was her job; her one and only job. She was, after all, the daughter of the ultra-fabulous model slash actress Marissa Copper. The life Ellie led was to be expected.
She continued to push her way through the crowd, a determined yet polite expression on her face as she maneuvered through the sea of people. She needed to see assertive yet courteous. In her mothers business, image was everything.
Ellie felt the firm, warm hand of her bodyguard gently come to a rest on her back and she smiled. Things just felt a million times safer when Carlos was there to protect her. Through the mass of paparazzi and curious on-lookers, Ellie caught sight of the reason she was there. A tall, lanky girl with long red ringlets was standing waiting for her, Michael, her bodyguard, standing directly behind her.
"Ellie!" the girl cried out in sheer enthusiasm.
"Scarlett!" Ellie cried back, rushing over to her best friend and embracing her in a tight hug.
The onslaught of camera flashbulbs went off all the more. Scarlett, who's father was the lead singer of one of the world's hottest bands and who's mother was a hot notorious model, knew all about the media and how to work it. And between her and Ellie, the two could turn heads and he on the front cover of half the tabloids on the west coast after just one night out.
After an exchange of adorable smiled, just enough to keep the shutterbugs satisfied but wanting more, Ellie and Scarlett moved their perfectly manufactured smiles into the club where their phony smiles dropped and they drowned their teenage sorrows in tequila shots.
