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Something
Chapter 44: Sad Beautiful Tragic
Sasha's POV
April 2, 1966
John.
There he was standing at the end of the terminal. I would have rather seen George standing there, and we all know how well that would turn out.
But, no, Paul had to send John. He looked around for me through the crowd of people. As much as I wanted to admit that I was not glad to see him, and I hated him for being here, I loved him, and all those feelings I had before I left came flooding back to me.
I slowly walked up to him. When he spotted me, he smiled then smirked, looking up and down my body.
"You look good, Sasha," he said, staring at my breasts.
Yep, still the same John. I suddenly hated him again.
"Hi, John," I said angrily.
He brought me into his arms and held me tightly.
He sighed and whispered, "I bet you're not glad to see me, but I'm glad to see you."
I hugged him back, "I missed you," I finally admitted to John as well as myself.
John released me from his arms and smiled at me. He took my hand and we walked together to get my luggage. He walked me out to his car and opened the passenger door for me.
When he got in the car, he started it and turned to me, "I missed you so much. I still love you, you know."
"Ugh," I sighed and leaned my head back on the headrest, "John, I just got back, and you're already starting on me."
"I'm not going to lie to you and tell you that I don't love you anymore," John said, "And George can't lie and make it seem like he doesn't love you."
"Don't bring him up, please."
John chuckled, "So you heard?"
"Yes, and I don't want to talk about it. It's your entire fault anyway," I said looking at him.
John laughed, "My fault?"
I sighed, "Yes, your fault. If could keep it in your pants, I would have never left in the first place."
"How can I keep it in my pants when you're so irresistible?" John asked me smirking.
This was going to be a long day.
"You hungry?" I heard John ask me a few minutes later.
"Sure," I said as John parked the car.
We got out of the car and walked to a little shack by the river to get fish and chips. We sat at a picnic table near the railings.
"Remember the first time we ate fish and chips together. Our first date," John smiled at me.
I smiled back at him, "Yeah, which was before you became a big fat jerk."
"Ha!" John laughed loudly, "You're just full of insults today."
"Well, I didn't exactly want you to pick me up today," I told him truthfully.
"Yeah, you wanted George to pick you up. You want to pretend that everything's been okay here too. Well, it hasn't!"
"What is that supposed mean? It can't be worse than the time I've had. My mother died, and my fiancé married someone else, and I found out on the news. All in the same day, John," I said starting to cry.
I got up from the table and fast walked away from John. I started to cry harder as I thought about the fact that I had nowhere to go. I didn't want to be here because of John and George, but I had no family or anything anywhere else.
I felt John spin me around with his hand. His eyes searched mine, and then he brought me into a tight embrace.
"I'm sorry," he whispered.
I pulled away from him and looked in his eyes. Every pain that I felt suddenly went away as he leaned closer to me. Soon our lips were parallel with each other, and when they touched it was magical.
"The photographers, they probably saw us," I said, suddenly paranoid.
John sighed, "I don't care. Cyn's long gone anyway."
"What?"
He wrapped his arm around my shoulders and walked me down the river, "In January, she was confused about everything that had happened between you and George. She kept asking everyone why you left, and no one would tell her. Well, the nanny decided to finally tell her what had been going on. She packed her things and filed the divorce papers."
I stopped walking, "I'm sorry, John. I've ruined everything."
"None of this is your fault," John smiled, "Besides, now I can be with the person I really love."
John and I had driven back to Abbey Road Studios. I walked in beside him, not even thinking about where we were.
We walked into the studio, and I dropped my handbag at the sight of him. George was sitting there with his guitar in his lap.
"Sasha," he blurted out as he looked at me.
Paul and Ringo were there also and all the eyes in the room were on George and me.
George stood up and headed for the door. He stopped at me on the way there. He stood in front of me staring at me with sad tear filled eyes. He walked past me and out the door quickly.
My eyes suddenly filled with tears, and I realized that I couldn't just go after him and make everything okay. He was married now, he was gone for good.
"Paul, can I talk to you?" I heard my voice ask quietly.
Paul took off his bass and hurried towards me. He put his arm my shoulders and ushered me out of the door and down the hallway to the other studio. By now, I hadn't even noticed that I was crying harder than ever. When we got in the other room, Paul closed the door and sat us down on the couch.
He wrapped his arms around me and held me while I cried, "Sasha. We all tried to convince him that you were coming back soon. He just didn't listen and made himself believe that you weren't coming back. That's why he got married; he was trying to cope with you being gone."
"He didn't have to get married Paul! I love him, I want him. I want to make everything okay and for us to go back to the way it was. I don't love John like I love George. I can never love anyone like I love George," I sobbed to Paul.
He brought my head back to his chest and rubbed the back of my head, "I just don't understand why you didn't call him or answer his calls."
"Paul, I was taking care of my dying mother. I didn't exactly have time to call and chat. Momma couldn't even get out of bed by herself. She was so weak," I sobbed into Paul's chest, "I want him back Paul. I wish he would've never married her. I deserve him. I should've called him. It's my entire fault, I pushed him away."
"Now, don't go blaming yourself," Paul said quietly, "It's his loss, and he feels pretty crummy knowing that if he would've listened to me then he would be holding you now. He still loves you Sasha, everyone knows it, and everyone can see it."
"I still love him," I said crying harder.
Paul continued to rub the back of my head through my hair, "Sssh, it's alright. It's all going to be okay. Life goes on. Don't cry this hard, you're going to make yourself sick."
I sat back up and began to wipe my eyes as George came into the room.
Paul stood and walked over to him, "It's not a good time to be in here George."
"I need to talk to Sasha," he said.
Paul walked out of the door, and I didn't want him to leave me alone with George. A tear ran down my cheek even though I was trying not to cry.
George sat down on the couch and wiped the tear off my cheek with his calloused finger. His big brown eyes that I had missed so much were shining with tears also. He brought me into his arms, a place I had missed and longed for every night that I was gone. It felt like home wrapped in his arms. His smell came flooding through my senses. God, I had missed him.
I heard him whisper quietly, "I wish I could fix this, but I can't. I need to talk to you about all this mess, right now."
After crying long and hard in George's arms, I looked up to his cheeks shining as well. He was so beautiful, even when upset. Those deep brown eyes that I had missed so much were clouded with different emotions. His tough hands gripped my upper arms tightly, almost to the point where it was painful. I wanted so bad to lean forward and kiss his soft lips, but I wasn't sure how he'd react to that. Instead, I looked down. I didn't want to look in his eyes anymore.
I heard him sigh, letting my arms go and dropping his hands to his lap, "I'm so stupid," he mumbled.
He got off of the couch and paced in front of me, and then he stopped abruptly and sat back down, "I don't know what to say to you, Sasha. Look at me."
He placed his hand under my chin and brought my head up to face him.
"I love you," he whispered, "But I can't love you anymore."
I didn't say anything, but waited for him to continue. I just loved hearing his voice, even if I didn't particularly like what he was trying say.
George placed his hand on mine, and I felt sparks at our touch, "I thought you weren't coming back, and I was so depressed. I needed someone to make me feel better, and Pattie was there."
"I told you I was coming back George," I said quietly, "I told that I just needed time to think."
"That's another thing. Do you know how hard it is when the person you want to spend the rest of your life with, the love of your life, tells you that she might love someone else? And it makes it worse when that someone is your band mate. I know you dated John before, but he hurt you. I was never going to hurt you," George sighed, "I don't understand. You never answered the phone or returned my calls. You didn't call me on my birthday. I thought we were over, you made it seem that way."
"George, I'm sorry about that. I'm sorry I pushed you away. My mother was dying, and she couldn't even get out of bed by herself. I had to cook, clean, help her around, even bathe her. She was so weak in her final months George," I told him thinking about how sad mom looked after we finished watching the news the day she died, "I thought you were going to come after me."
There was an overwhelming amount of silence that filled the room for a good five minutes.
"You know how I found out about you and Pattie? The news, the news, George. I sat there and watched my fiancé kissing another woman, his new wife. I went outside to cry, and when I came back an hour and half later, my mother was dead in the recliner. Dead!"
George brought me into his arms as I began to sob heavily. I hoped he felt like absolute crap for the way I felt. He rubbed my back and just comforted me with silence like he use to do when were together.
"Sasha," he whispered, "I wish I could just be yours again. But Pattie, I think that I'm actually in love with her. I know you don't want to hear it, but just remember that I'll always love you."
I stood up in front of the couch still crying softly, and took off George's engagement ring. I had worn it all this time, and that should've told George something. I looked down at my naked left hand ring finger. I looked at the ring in my right hand and put it into George's palm and closed his hand.
I walked out of the room silently. I didn't look back because I thought that if I did and George was standing there then I would run into his arms once last time. I walked back into the studio area, and without talking to anyone picked up my purse and left the studio.
When I got outside, it was sunny, and I soon realized that I didn't have car or a place to stay. I sat on the front steps of Abbey Road studios and cried silently until I heard the door open and close behind me.
John sat down next to me and put his arm around me, "It'll be alright, love. I'm always here for you."
I cried into John's shirt making it wet in one spot. He sang to me quietly to make me feel better.
I looked up at him, "I feel so lost and alone John. I have nowhere to stay."
"You can stay with me," John told me.
Without saying anything, I stood up and followed John to his car. When we pulled up to Kenwood, it was everything I remembered. The grounds were so beautiful and almost romantic.
John took my things upstairs and told me to sit on the couch and make myself at home. I had only been inside Kenwood one other time; it was for a party that John threw for the Beatles' success. I didn't notice all the pictures before. There were pictures of John and Cynthia, some with Julian, and some of John and Mimi.
John came back down the stairs, "Are you hungry? I was going to warm up some pasta I made the other night."
I followed John to the kitchen, "What kind of pasta?"
"I made penne with alfredo sauce and chicken," he explained, getting a big tubberware bowl out of the refrigerator.
"Sounds delicious," I said sitting on a barstool at the center island in the kitchen.
John poured the pasta into a pan on the stove to warm it up. He added a splash of milk to it and mozzarella cheese so it would taste fresh. I watched him get out two wine glasses and a bottle of red wine. He poured some and handed a glass to me.
When the pasta was done, John split it onto two plates and took it to the table. I went over to sit down, and he sat in front of me.
"I want you to know that I'm sorry," he said quietly.
"For what?" I asked taking a bite of pasta, "This is delicious."
"Thank you," he laughed and then was serious again, "For pushing you away from George. I know how much you loved him."
"Wow," I said looking at him.
"What?"
"John Lennon's actually apologizing," I said smirking.
He smiled, "Shut up."
I sighed, "I do love George, but if he really loved me the way I loved him, then he would've waited for me to come back. And it's better this way."
John looked up, "Why?"
"Because now I get to be with the person I really belong with."
John smiled at me and continued eating. That's all he ever wanted to hear me say, that I belonged with him.
After dinner, I followed John upstairs to the bedroom.
"I hope you don't mind sharing a bed with me," John said pointing to my suitcases in the corner of the room, "I just figured you would probably end up here anyway."
"I don't mind. Thank you for letting me stay here," I said.
John hugged me, "I would let you stay here anytime."
I pulled away from him, "Can I use your shower?"
"Sure, just go in that door right there," he said pointing to a door on the opposite side of the room, "I'll be waiting out here."
I walked in the bathroom and shut the door behind me. After my shower, I wrapped a towel around my body and towel dried my hair with another one. I brushed through my hair to get all the tangles out. I got done brushing my hair as soon as John walked into the bathroom.
He looked at me, and I suddenly felt very exposed standing in front of him in just a towel. He brought me into his arms and kissed my lips softly. I felt the towel fall off of me as he kissed up and down my neck. He ran his hands up and down my body when the towel had hit the floor.
He led me into the bedroom and undressed quickly while I lay on the bed. He climbed over top of me and began to make love to me. I realized then how much I missed John's touch, and that maybe, I had loved him the most after all.
