Hello! It's my first update of the new year! Happy 2013 everyone! So here is yet another chapter in this prototype story that I've started. I'm formally apologizing for any past, present, or future typos that I make because I usually write at night when I'm a little livelier than a corpse. Anyway, tell me how you like the story and my other stories shall be updated within the next week or so.

Review and enjoy!

When Jane moved in with Paul in 1966, the first thing she noticed about the house in St. John's Wood was its scarily overgrown garden. It was practically a jungle, inhabited only by Paul's huge prowess of a sheepdog. It gave her the creeps, and she almost immediately started hinting at him to do something about it.

"You know, one day Martha's going to get lost out there, and you won't know what to do," she sighed as she made him breakfast. It was one of the few times when she was not working and he enjoyed her cooking.

"She can fend for herself," he said, digging into the food set before him. "Could you feed the cats, love?"

"I didn't even notice you had any," she mumbled. "What're they supposed to eat?"

"There's some tuna in the cupboard, I think. Just give the three of them each half a can. They can drink some water." She frowned and put out three full cans for each and warm up three bowls of milk. She scowled at the scene set before her. It was too domestic and she felt like a droning housewife. She never thought from the day she met him that her life would be like this.

They met in May of 1963 at a pop concert at the Albert Hall. She had just turned seventeen and had been appearing on a popular TV show. A magazine asked her to go to the concert and give her comments as a teenager on all of the groups. She said that the only ones worth screaming over were the Beatles. At first, she liked George the most.

It was Paul, however, who recognized her and shouted after her, making the rest of the band swarm around her and chat her up. They all said "Will you marry me?" which was what they said to every girl at the time. They invited the rave London girl back to their hotel for a drink.

The others left Paul alone in the bedroom with Jane after a lot of winking. The two spent most of the evening talking about gravy and their favorite meals. He knew that she was the girl for him. He hadn't tried to grab her or make her.

"It appears you're a nice girl," he told her. She grinned.

"And appearances are everything."

They went out many times over the following weeks, sometimes just walking around the city together. No one recognized Paul yet, in the early months of 1963, but a lot of people knew Jane. They took a short holiday to Rome and Paul missed a connection back to Liverpool. Mrs. Asher told him to stay the night, but he didn't want to. Working class lads didn't stay with a girl's parents. However, in the end, he obliged. The night turned into day, day into weeks, and then into three years. He lived his whole London life at Jane's house until 1966 when he got his own house.

An evening with them was like an evening with any other young couple. Jane made the dinner. It was all vegetarian. They shared a bottle of white wine which she had opened for cooking and they were just finishing up.

The doorbell rang many times during dinner and Jane calmly left her plate each time to speak to the fans through the intercom. Paul would've long given up and ignored them as he usually did when they were getting too persistent. She spoke to them nicely and asked if they wouldn't mind waiting a moment—she and Paul were eating dinner. They kept ringing the bell, and he got frustrated.

"Paul, just go talk to them," Jane said, sipping her wine.

"We're having dinner. They can wait."

"Paul, they've been waiting all day. Just go."

"Jane, they'll be there after dinner tonight, and tomorrow, and the day after tomorrow," he protested. "They're always there!" She patted her mouth with her napkin delicately and pointed to the door.

"Go, Paul. Now." He gave her a twisted smile, but went out and signed pictures for all the girls who had been waiting. He came back inside and Jane had her legs tucked up underneath her as she finished her wine.

"Want to go out tonight?" he asked, pouring her a bit more. Her blue eyes rolled upward as she considered the option.

"I guess," she said. She reached across the table and took a cigarette out of his coat pocket. "There's a new club that opened a few weeks ago. We can check it out, maybe?"

"Yeah," he agreed. He lit her cigarette and lit one for himself. "You have to leave in a few days."

"That's right." They were silent for a minute. "I'm going to go get dressed, then. We'll worry about the dishes later."

"Deal." It took them about fifteen minutes to get dressed and it too Jane another half an hour to fix her hair. Paul told he how beautiful she looked and he was rewarded with a bright smile. When they got to the club, they immediately started dancing and had more fun than they'd had in ages.

He made her laugh and swung her around during the really jazzy songs. By the end of the band's first set, her face was bright pink and she laughed uncontrollably. Every time he pulled her close to him, he would kiss her and look at her lovely smile. When slow songs came on, she shifted so she was closer to him and laid her head on his strong shoulder. They were truly a dream couple,

However, the dream didn't last long. When they got home, they'd gotten into an argument because Jane was busy packing to leave for her film. She argued that she was shooting a movie for the director that he wanted her to me. He randomly pointed out that she would be a terrible mother because she was always jetting off to some foreign place instead of spending time with him.

"Well, maybe I don't want to be a mother," she spat. "Especially to your kids."

"I guess the problem with some people is that they work too hard. They can't even see what they could be and what they could have because they're so focused on their job," he said. "And themselves."

"So what!" she yelled. "Should I just stop because you think I should? Why don't you stop playing music and come with me everywhere I go? That's what you think I should do, right?"

"Jane-,"

"So I'll just stop doing what I like to do, alright?"

"No, you're unhappy if you aren't doing anything," he said sarcastically. "If I stop you, you'll hate me."

"Maybe I already do!" she screamed. He stared at her disbelievingly and she couldn't even believe she'd said that to him. "Wait, Paul-,"

"No. I'm glad you said it because I hate you too," he growled, backing her into a corner. Her back hit the wall and she stared up at him with fear on her face. "I never loved you. You were just a good shag. Just like all the other birds. You think you're the only one?"

"What!" she shrieked. "You…what!" He chuckled meanly.

"You really do! You think you're the only one! You're just the lucky one. It could've been anyone, but for some reason I chose you." Her face fell and he instantly regretted telling her that. "Jane, I'm not serious-,"

"Get out!" she shouted. He took a step toward her but she threw a book at him. "Get out of here now!"

"Fine!" he snapped, grabbing his keys. "I hope you're gone by tomorrow morning, Jane," Her eyes widened as he stormed out of the house and slammed the door.

"I'll be gone by tonight!" she screamed at the closed door. She heard his car screech away and she sunk to the floor in tears. After about five minutes, she stood up, brushed herself off, and neatly finished packing her clothes. She called a taxi and flew to Italy a day earlier because she knew that if she saw Paul before she left, she couldn't do what she was about to do. She left a letter for Paul which he didn't read right away. He looked everywhere for her first before opening the envelope.

Dear Paul, it read.

Sometimes, it comes to a point in our lives when we have to think about what we are doing and where we are heading. When happiness fades, we need to look for new beginnings. When love dies, we need to step away and carve out the dead feelings.

I know it is difficult to let this relationship go. We have been through so much together that it hurts just recalling a tiny fraction of the time we spent as a couple. But I also know it will only hurt more if we let this relationship drift. The same inevitable parting will confront us then making it even harder for us to recover and find that elusive happiness and peace of mind.

We have had our fair share of love and happiness. Let those be the memories that will stay with us as we go our separate ways. Continuing on will only leave us with more bitter recollections that will overwhelm the happier times that we once shared. That's simply because true happiness will never be possible from now on when the magical feeling has long gone. Instead, what will set in is indifference, making us strangers, not lovers, in our own home.

Perhaps you will find that I'm trying to justify my decision to move on. To alleviate my guilt of leaving this relationship. Maybe I am and for that I'm truly sorry. But I also strongly believe that a person as special as you deserves someone much better. Someone who can love and cherish you the way a lover should rather than depending on crumbs from a dying feeling which is better left buried.

Therefore, this relationship is over. Harsh, it may seem, but I want both of us to be happy. If I can't feel it in my heart, neither can I give you what you rightly deserve. That being the case, let us go and seek our own rainbows, which I'm sure will appear when the time is right.

Goodbye and take care.

Sincerely, Jane

Before he could even process what he was doing, he balled the letter up in his fist and ran to his car. He drove to the airport and got on the first flight to Italy. He hadn't packed any bags and had no idea where Jane would be, but he needed to see her somehow. He vaguely remembered her mentioning Milan so that's where he went. He walked around the city for hours, communication only with hand signals as to where a film set might be. One Italian who spoke iffy English told him where to go.

He raced to a closed off area and waved frantically to Larry Stocker. Larry told him that Jane had just left. He told him where the hotel was and Paul ran through the crowds to find her. Several young girls recognized him and gasped but he kept going. Finally, he found her hotel and went to the front desk.

"Hello, may I help you?" the receptionist asked with a British accent. She was quite pretty and remained pleasant as Paul tried to catch his breath. He didn't notice how nice she looked. He didn't care that her black hair was shiny and thick and long. It didn't matter to him that her liquid brown eyes looked at him with concern and slight curiosity. All he cared about was Jane.

"Jane Asher. Is she staying here?" he panted. The woman bit her lip.

"I'm not sure. What's she look like?" she asked.

"She about yea high," he said, holding his hand slightly below his eyes. "Red hair, blue eyes?" the woman's eyes flickered in recognition.

"The actress!" the woman chirped.

"That's right," Paul nodded. The woman smiled and looked in the booking book.

"Room four-sixty. She just arrived." He thanked her and ran to the stairs. He ran all the way to the fourth floor and pounded on her door. There was no answer. He ran to the emergency exit balcony and leaned over it. He saw an unmistakable flash of red hair and a light blue dress. His heart skipped a beat and he yelled off of the balcony.

"Jane!" he cried out. Her head whipped around trying to locate where her name was coming from. "Jane, darling!" She looked up and he saw the look of utter confusion on her face.

"Paul?" He couldn't hear her but he saw her mouth form the word. He motioned for her to wait and he raced back down the stairs, past the pretty receptionist, and into the street.

Jane had her arms crossed and she looked around for Paul. He ran to her and wrapped his arms around her. She was shocked and tried very hard not to relax into his arms, but his desperate hold on her and his thankful sigh made her tilt her head up and kiss him.

"Let's go back upstairs," she said to him. He took her hand and held it as though she would leave him forever f he let go. They went back to her room and he held her tightly. "Why are you here?"

"I couldn't…" he started. He couldn't finish his thought. "I just can't let you…"

"What?" He kissed her deeply and closed his eyes.

"I couldn't let you walk away from me like that," he breathed.

"Oh, Paul," she said, laying her head on his chest. He took her chin and leaned down to kiss her. She led him to the bedroom where they spent the rest of the day together. Jane had to work the next day, but that night they went shopping and had dinner together. Paul's impromptu trip to save their relationship turned into a two week holiday until the set moved back to London.

It was only at the end of shooting the first half of the movie that Jane discovered she was pregnant.