AUTHOR'S NOTE: So this isn't as long as a chapter as I had originally planned, but sometimes things just want to get right to the point. I'm so glad I could bring you guys two chapters this summer considering for a long while I was certain there would be none. I hope you lot enjoy where this was going, but honestly, none of you should be surprised.

NINETEEN

The one thing I had managed to get right was keeping and maintaining a job. Connections were the way of the world, and I had managed to secure quite a few as time had gone on. I found some good offers and now I was working on transitioning into freelance work. As I stepped into the large office building and made my way to the third floor I briefly congratulated myself on not somehow managing to fuck up the one thing that Naomi made sure I was left: a career. Which was surprising considering the hours I seemed to keep. But since I wasn't a coke addict like everyone else in the business, I figured I was entitled to a few "special blends" here and there.

Making my way to the front desk, I removed a large envelope from within my bag and placed it in the drop off bin. Models were easy, they paid the bills. And were great to look at. Or sleep with depending on whatever mood struck them. I smiled at the familiar receptionist who handed me my drop off sheet, proving that I had brought the exposures in person, and I made my way to my next job of the day.

I kept my eyes down, kept mostly to myself. Which was a bit odd for me considering I was a very sociable person and had definitely learned how to network in the last several months I'd been scrounging around London. But apart from the passing "hellos" and chit chat, I didn't have much in common with the executives in that particular building. No I had much bigger ideas on the horizon.

Pulling my phone out, I immediately began to send out an en masse text about the next photo shoot everyone was supposed to attend this weekend. It was for a non-profit charity organization heading up homelessness in the LGBT community, which was rather large I had learned through a mutual acquaintance. But mostly I wanted my phone out to get the text which I was hoping would appear within the next few minutes. The clock on my phone read 10:15 am. As the elevator door 'dinged!' open I figured I just needed some street service to get it to come through.

Stepping out onto the pavement I stood and waited, hoping that no one passing by would knock me over. I waited and waited, re-lighting my screen every few minutes. I'd lied to Altman when I said I didn't give a shit one way or the other if the text came. It did make me feel numb. But I had grown to expect it. And something in the pit of my stomach hadn't felt quite right this morning, so I was hoping that this would set the matter straight. No more concern. But when the clock moved another five minutes without a single word. . .my heart started to beat just the tiniest bit harder. "You're being stupid," I told myself, shoving the phone back into my pocket and pulling my coat collar further around my neck before I made my way down the long end of the street.

"Katie, where are you?" I asked closing the door to James' flat behind me. He and the wife were away for the month and my twin had graciously, or not so graciously, as I was coming to see as I stepped in a gooey pile of fuck all knows that was in a corner of the hallway floor, decided to stay with the baby. Katie loved her little niece even if she did complain about the kid's name every five seconds she got. "Hey there, Clem," I said, finding my tiny tot of a niece in her high chair, stuffing pieces of cake into her mouth. "She's not supposed to have those you know," I said to Katie who had her head in the refrigerator.

"When did you get here?" she asked, as she pulled the milk from within the box and poured into Clementine's sippy cup.

"Just now, I called," I said, trying my best to put on a smile, especially for the little girl in front of me. She had our brown eyes but everything else about her was her mum's right down to the fat olive cheeks and piles of jet black hair.

"I didn't hear my phone ring," Katie said as she picked it up, checking for a text message. She was in sweats. I hadn't seen my sister so dressed down in what seemed like years. Then again, this was the first time since moving back to London that I agreed to help tend to Clementine. I'd been busy.

"From the hallway, I called from the hallway," I said as Clementine shoved another large piece of sugar into her mouth. "I'm not staying here if all you're giving her is this stuff."

"Why not? She likes it, keeps her happy."

"She's going to be bouncing off the walls in less than thirty minutes." Katie sat opposite me of the table and grinned.

"Yes, but then she'll coma out after the rush has absolved. She has that bouncy trampoline. I figure I'll put her in that and see if she can't blast herself off to the moon or some shit, oof, sorry, Clem, sodding hell what a terrible name. I mean-oh bollocks forget it."

"Three. Swear three times in front of the child. Excellent parenting skills there Katie. Now I see why James asked for us both."

"What's that supposed to mean." I sighed and dumped my small bag on the nearby chair. It was only then that I could see the telly on in the adjacent room, volume turned down, station on some news broadcast.

"Nothing," I said, "Jesus, who still has cable these days?" I didn't want to fight with Katie. I needed distraction. Tussles weren't in my agenda however as I would invariably get upset and probably start crying and then she would needle what was bothering out of me. And I wasn't interested in being needled.

"What's wrong?" she asked anyway. Apparently my silence had done the trick for me regardless. My eyes turned back to her slowly and I tried not to have what Katie had deemed "the Naomi face," an expression I wore throughout my life whenever my former girlfriend was on my mind. But since I didn't know what it looked like, I couldn't stop it from happening. "Oh for fu-I mean, Jesus, Emily," Katie groaned. "Your session with Altman was days ago, did you not get it out of your system then?"

Pulling my phone out from my pocket I placed it on the table. I nodded between her and it while she merely stared at me blankly. "Bizarre dramatic emphasis I'm supposed to understand?" I sighed and rolled my eyes.

"Gina hasn't texted me today," I filled in for her. My twin merely shrugged.

"So, the day isn't even halfway over yet. Why should she?"

"Gina texts me, has texted me every single day at the exact same time. It's the evening prior in New York, she'll have gone to bed already."

"Suddenly know what hours Naomi is keeping these days." I rolled my eyes again.

"Gina will have nearly gone to bed."

"Oh come off it, Emily, you don't know that. You're making something out of absolutely nothing." I stared at the blank, black screen as the words I'd tried to suppress came out of my mouth.

"And what if I'm not? What if something has gone wrong?" Standing, Katie picked up Clem and wiped her face with a nearby damp towel. I knew what she was going to say before she said it. Never stopped her though.

"I think it's been made quite clear it's none of your damn business anymore, wouldn't you say?" Hearing it out of Katie's mouth rather than my own or Dr. Altman's made the fact solidify in the oncoming tears which I knew would make their way out as soon as Katie left the room. But apparently she had more to say. "And I say it's bloody well time." She looked from Clem back down to me, "It's been two years, Emily. It's time to leave Naomi well enough alone, yeah?" That was when Katie decided to make her exit, no doubt to place Clem in her pram until it was time to feed her again.

She's right. I'm here but not here. And I do everything possible to make the 'not here' the reality. She's right. . . I looked down at my dark reflection in the phone and the way the over head light bounced off my cheeks, I was able to watch and feel the first tear fall onto them. But why didn't Gina text me?

"Oh and another thing," Katie said, suddenly re-appearing and reaching for my phone and putting it in her pocket. I opened my mouth to protest but she raised a finger at me. "Just while you're here. You'll get it back at the end of class."

"Bitch," I mumbled as Katie donned her smile with pride.

I stayed with Katie and Clem for a good part of the day, but as soon as the sun started to set, I made my way back to my apartment. The company had put it up for me, at least the down payment. I'd been responsible for the upkeep to the standards of the other tenants. Pushing open the front door there was at least a week's worth of laundry laying about the floor, at least twice that in dishes, and I honestly didn't want to think about the garbage. Good thing I brought women back with the lights off. I usually managed to get them back into the bedroom before they could smell anything either.

But here there was no hiding from it. I'd meant to clean. Really. But the longer the jobs went and the longer hours I kept, coming home later and later for one reason or the other, too tired or too drunk or too unwilling, the bigger the task seemed. So I meandered my way back into my room and flipped on the switch, taking my shoes off slowly in the process. This time I was exhausted for reasons that probably didn't matter in the long run but existed none the less.

Children had a tendency to tire me out. I loved being around them, especially Clem. But it seemed to be this reminder of. . .things I didn't want to think about. It's why I couldn't come by more often. Of course telling James that was non-sensical. He'd call me a twat and then tell me to just not bother coming by at all.

Removing each item of clothing and tossing them into the nearby bin, I slowly made my way about the room, which somehow seemed to be in a bit better condition than the rest of the place. Bed time clothing options were limited. I hadn't had much need for them. But I did manage to pick up a decent set of pyjamas the last time I was in Paris about six months ago. A bitter sweet clothing addition with my holiday bonus. Light, blue silk.

Slumping down on the bed I debated if I wanted to reach for the telly remote or not. Instead I did something I probably shouldn't have. I reached for my phone, hoping I'd have a text message of some kind. When I didn't see one, except from Katie asking if I had made it home all right, it became too much. I broke down into tears, tossing the phone hard against the mattress. "Fuck, I'm so sick of crying! This was supposed to stop!" I cried out to no one in particular. It was a bit dramatic, more than a bit of an overstatement, even I was starting to piss myself off with the brooding. It didn't match who I was.

I'm not who I'm supposed to be without her. If Naomi had died, I would have found some way. . .as hard as it would have been, as long as it would have taken, to go on. Because at least being with her would have been a forcibly removed option, but this? Fucking look at me!

I took a deep breath, stemming the flow of tears, and on the exhale I stared at the phone, feeling blood pump from the top of my head down to my toes. It was accelerating as I formulated an idea. And that idea became a plan. And that plan became a will. All within a span of a few seconds, that will lunged me toward the phone and a call to the company's travel agent. "Hello, my name is Emily Fitch and I'd like to schedule myself on the next flight to New York please."