NOTES: Clearly I own nothing, but an overactive imagination. Also, I am NOT ill wishing Norman's relationship with Diane Kruger, nor do I hope for Sean Patrick Flanery's marriage to have bumps in the road. All I can say for myself is, damn they're pretty. Please enjoy this weird trip inside my overactive mind.

Life is pretty bizarre. For instance, if someone had told me that at some point I'd end up having a mindblowing fling with a married movie star, I'd have called them all batshit insane. I'm sorry, married, but separated from his wife. He'd much prefer that wording, I'm sure. Although the cut and run I did, that was PURE me.

It happened. Not my proudest moment. Sleeping with a married man had always been on my "fuck no, don't" list. Flirting was fine. Screwing, nope. So color me absolutely freaked out when I went to a final lunch with the studio heads to celebrate my picking them to adapt my book to movie form, and there SHE was- his wife, looking as miserable as he had the night we met in the bar of the hotel we were both staying in. I flashed on what I'd been doing with her husband minutes before leaving for this lunch, and I'm shocked the room didn't catch on fire from my shame.

I finished lunch, rushed back to the hotel, packed everything up, and left a "Dear Sean" note slipped under his room's door. Then I ran. Hightailed it to the airport and begged to get on the next available flight and turned off my cell phone. It was cowardly. It was also the right thing to do.

Sean was a good man. Under his rampant testosterone and that sexy as sin, yet goofy as hell exterior, I knew that he'd eventually choose to fight for his family. It was who he was. I just realized, seeing her sitting at lunch looking like she'd rather be swallowing glass, that I needed to give him a push.

When I finally arrived home, after the longest layover of my life, my best friend was beaming. Tabbi had acted as my house/pet sitter and was bursting to show me the gorgeous flowers that had just arrived. He'd sent my favorites, lilies, and so many that they were threatening to overwhelm the cut glass vase. The note was simple. "NEVER." I knew precisely what he meant, it referred to part of the note I'd left him. I vowed to myself that I wouldn't block his number from my phone, I also vowed that I wouldn't answer his calls or texts, unless they sounded more friend than lover.

Of course, my best friend was curious. I considered lying, but I am unflinchingly honest about damn near everything. I know, except sleeping with another woman's wife isn't exactly on the up and up, but aside from that, I am. So I told her all about my time with Sean. And as I knew she wouldn't, she didn't judge. Actually she was pissed at me for a completely different reason.

"You made his choice for him." She accused. "You do this shit all the time, J."

I rolled my eyes. "He was going to eventually do it for himself. I was a temporary diversion." I scoffed, moving to grab a drink from the kitchen. "He's a family man, T."

She followed me, shaking her head. "He can be a family man and still want you to be with him." Her disapproval was evident. "Why do you always run when something good lands in your lap?"

Taking a drink of water, I turned to look her square in the eye. "Why do you think he was good?" I shook my head. "I'm not that person, I don't do THIS." I gestured to the flowers. "This is for the best. Wait and see."

That was almost two years ago. I stayed true to my word, I left him alone. I unfollowed him on social media. I didn't answer his calls or texts, they still sounded like yearning. I went on with my life, and assumed that he had too.

Eventually, the movie deal I made meant I had to relocate to Georgia. Since I was the weird writer who couldn't just hand my book to anyone to adapt, I'd been involved from day one. I worked with the screenwriter, making sure that all the important things were intact. The first book in the series would determine whether I chose to move forward with others, well that and box office appeal. Since filming was going to take months, I rented a house. I had my three dogs with me and it ALMOST felt like home.

If anyone knows anything about Georgia and the entertainment industry, then they know that tons of shows and movies are filmed in and around Atlanta. A lot of them at the same time. The Walking Dead, Marvel, and until the show ended The Vampire Diaries.

I'm not an idiot, I know that Sean and Norman Reedus are friends, but I never considered he'd visit him. Why would he? Sean had his own life, own career, but one afternoon, while I was sitting at the house dogs napping around me, I heard the doorbell ring. I'd ordered Chinese for lunch, so grabbing my wallet for a tip, I rushed past the doggy gate that kept the dogs away from the door, and opened it.

Standing there, in the hot Georgia sun, was not my food delivery. Sean, holding a bouquet of lilies, and looking far too unfazed by the passage of time stood inches from me. For the first time in two years there he was, I shut my eyes and went with my normal reaction to unpleasant reminders. Sarcasm.

"Those don't look like my chicken and broccoli," I snapped, blocking the noise of my dogs by shutting the door behind me. "What are you doing here, Sean?"

Finally he looked a little unnerved. Clearly wasn't expecting that kind of reaction from me, but why he didn't was beyond me. I remembered every single line from the letter I wrote to say goodbye. Nowhere in it was any type of belief that I'd welcome him back as anything more than a friend. I shook my head, but didn't drop my gaze. He looked tired, good of course, but tired.

"Hey, Jess." That voice, like honey dripping down slow and thick. "Guess you're not gonna invite me in?"

I sighed, "Not if I don't have to." I said, feeling the heat of the day already making sweat bead on the back of my neck. "Why are you here?"

He tried to hand me the flowers, but I shook my head. "I came to apologize." His voice sounded strained. "For-" He seemed stymied. "Hell, I don't know why, but I feel like I should."

I chuckled. "Nothing to be sorry for, Sean." I noticed the ring on his left ring finger. "See you made the right choice in the end." I nodded my chin at it. "Good. That's who you are, Sean, a husband and father." I started to turn, but his voice stopped me.

"I'm a father, Jess, but I don't know about being a husband." I could hear the strain in his voice. "I took your advice," he whispered.

I turned to give him a sad look. "I just gave the advice back to you, Sean. It was in your book, after all." I tried to smile, but knew it was lacking. "Goodbye, Sean."

I opened the door and walked inside, shutting it before I could allow my feelings to overwhelm me. It was for the best. He needed his family. And they needed him.

A few days later, I got a text. Remember how a lot of different shows and movies film in Georgia? Well, when you're working there, you also mingle with the show business types. And that's how I became friends with Sebastian Stan and Anthony Mackie. Those two are a force to be reckoned with and laughing at their antics kept my mind off the stress of movie making. The text came from Bash, asking if I wanted to go to a barbeque. Mackie and his wife were doing date night, but a friend from NY in town working was hosting and he wanted the security of someone he knew along. Sure, I thought, not considering who was hosting.

I drove. I love Bash, but he's a New Yorker, and scares the shit out of me behind the wheel. I let him navigate to a little town called Senoia. The further out of town and into the surrounding wilderness we drove, I started making inappropriate Deliverance jokes.

"Bash, how much further? I swear, if I hear banjos, I'm out." I asked, the headlights illuminating the darkening streets.

He snorted and looked around. "The driveway is up ahead. He plays a redneck, but pretty sure Norman doesn't do banjo music."

I nearly slammed on the brakes. "Norman?" I asked, hoping my voice sounded normal, but seeing Bash turn to study me, I had my doubts.

"Jess, what's wrong?" He asked, even as his finger pointed to the path forward. "Problem with Reedus?"

I shook my head. No way was I getting into the problems I had, not in this car, not on the way to what could be my fucking doom. "No, don't know him." I said, keeping my eye on the driveway. There were tons of cars lining each side. I backed into a spot, so I could escape-leave easily later. "Let's go check out the party." I really wished I could sound as carefree as I wanted to look and sound.

I clicked the doors locked and smiled as Bash took my hand. "Hey, if you don't want to stay, just tell me. We can go."

I gave his hand a squeeze. "I'm fine." I smiled at him. "Besides, it'll do you good to get out for a bit. You have this tendency to hide away, Bash."

He rolled his eyes. "And you have a tendency to mother me." He pulled me forward, toward the noise coming from the backyard. "See, no banjos." The music was harsher, but not unpleasant, and I felt him tugging me further along. "Got to introduce you to our host."

Norman was sitting at a table with a ton of other people, but I kept my focus on him. I knew he'd know my name, most people do with the books being so popular. I was fairly certain that he wouldn't know about Sean and me. That had been a stipulation between his wife and him, during their separation. That no one would know they were broken. And clearly, telling people about me would be admitting it happened. I still had butterflies, and felt the urge to run, but with Bash's hand in mine, I was forced forward.

"Hey!" Bash called, smiling that smile that made his fans' hearts skip. "Thought you'd like to meet Jessa, Jessa Halmand." He pulled me in front of the group and I felt sick. Jesus, this was just like show and tell in school.

Norman's eyes flickered to mine, and then roamed over me. "Don't look much like your book jacket, do you?" I chuckled. "Nice to meet you, Jessa." He held out his hand and I took it. "I've heard a lot about you." Ah, wonder where from?

I licked my lip nervously. "Same," I said, giving his hand a light shake. "Thanks for having us." My hand was still in Bash's, and I saw his eyes flicker to it. Gah, everyone thought something was going on between the two of us. Especially since he asked me to go with him to one of his premiers.

"Let me give you the tour," Norman stood, and Bash's hand left mine. I looked over at him and he shrugged.

"Seen it," he grinned. "I'll grab us some drinks. Be here when you get back."

Great, traitor, I thought to myself. Then again, Bash couldn't know why I didn't want time alone with Norman. He didn't know about Sean and me. Besides, I hadn't seen Sean at the tables around the food, so maybe he'd left already. Turning to walk beside Norman, I had to wait until we were out of earshot of the others to ask my question.

"Did you hear about me from articles, or from a more personal source?" I asked, my voice still quiet, even over the noise of the music.

"Sean told me about you." He answered, shooting me a side look. "He told me everything."

Shit. I felt my blush burn to the roots of my hair. I only nodded, gulping and wishing I had the drink Bash promised me. "Oh." Was the only thing I said, before he kept talking.

"He's in the house." Norman's voice, gruff, but with a different cadence than Sean's was as quiet as mine was. "He won't force you to talk to him. I won't either, but he had hoped to have a say before he left your house the other day."

I nodded. "I know," I said, biting my lip. "Thought a clean break would have been for the best."

"Not really your call to make," He answered, and kept walking toward the backdoor. "Partially your call, but not fully." He opened the door and looked down at me when I started in. "He's a shit, I know, but he's a shit with feelings."

I looked up at him, and was struck by the light blue of his eyes. No wonder they picked him as Sean's fraternal twin in the movie. Their eyes were just enough the same to make it work. "I never said he didn't have feelings. And he's not a shit." I bit out. My answer shocked him, but he smiled.

"Good," he said, letting me pass him. "Then have a fucking conversation, so he can let fucking go." I felt his hand on the small of my back giving me a push. "Go," he ordered. "I'll keep Seb busy."

I sighed, looking around and wondering where Sean would be. Please God, I thought, not a fucking bedroom. Thankfully, I heard a noise from the family room. Turning into it, there he was, sitting on the sofa looking as down as the first night I met him. "Gotta stop meeting this way, Sean." I said, and he looked up with a sad smile.

"Yeah," he nodded. "Tired of other guys having to be my wingman with you." He patted the sofa next to him, but I took the chair instead.

"I should have let you in the other day." I said, giving him a nod. "That wasn't fair, I'm sorry."

He nodded back. "I understood why you didn't want to. I mean, I think I do." He sat back and I saw the same defeated look he'd held the first night. "Hell, I've got that note you left memorized." He ran his hands over his face and through his hair.

I was clutching my hands together in my lap. "I never wanted to hurt you, Sean. That wasn't my intent." I sighed, and fell back against the chair cushions. "My best friend says I have this need to make people's choices for them, by taking myself out of the equation. She's right, but the truth is, I think we both knew this was how it was going to work out." I gestured between us. "Seeing Lauren that day, in the flesh, looking exactly like you did that first night-" I didn't want to mention that he still looked like that, because it would ruin my choices. "Made it real. We were living in a bubble, Sean. A bubble that was gonna burst, sooner or later. Seeing her made me remember the book you wrote, a book about a granddaddy giving his grandson advice to live by. And that's what made me write you the note and go. Because you wrote that book, and while some of it was fiction, the parts about the grandpa and his little one weren't. I just reminded you."

His eyes were glassy and I hoped he wouldn't cry. It would break me. Break this boundary I created. "I know." He nodded. "I know why, and I even know you're right." He gave me another one of those smiles that could ruin a woman. "Doesn't mean I have to like it, agree with it, or embrace it."

I chuckled. "Why isn't it working, Sean?" I pointed at his ring, which he was worrying with now. "Why aren't you letting it?"

"We started therapy." I nodded, hoping he'd continue. "You know how I feel about that shit, but I agreed. Found out it works better if both parties are being honest."

"You haven't told her." My eyes widened. "You didn't tell her about me? Why?"

He looked at me like I was insane. "How I felt about you was fuckin' real, Jess. How the fuck do I sit in that office and admit that I had this brief, real relationship, and the ONLY fuckin' reason I'm sitting across from the headshrinker and beside her is because you sent me home?" He groaned, and again rubbed his face. "I HAD to tell someone. So I told Reedus. He thought I was fuckin' crazy. Not about therapy, not about anything to do with my marriage, but YOU. Said I lost my fuckin' balls by just lettin' ya go." He grinned, and glanced at me. "Couldn't tell him that you'd have knocked my ass in the dirt if I ran after ya. He doesn't know you like I do. Thinks I coulda won ya over with my charm."

I laughed at that. "Poor Norman, doesn't have a clue." I sighed. "Tell her, Sean. Tell her everything. You'll get peace, and your life will work out like it's supposed to."

"Won't have you in it," he grumbled. "Not havin' ya, even as a sounding board, that's killin' me worse than the rest. Got used to you after a fuckin' week. Nothing seems the same."

I swallowed, and gave him an offer that I prayed I wouldn't regret. "Tell her, and I promise we can try to be friends. I'll answer the shit ton of texts you send daily." He shot me a look. "What? I didn't block you, I just didn't answer."

"Did you read 'em?" Sean asked, curious overriding irritation for now.

"Most were the same thing over and over." I rolled my eyes. "You're one sappy mofo, Sean, but yes, I read them."

I watched as he grew pissed off. "And you couldn't send even a 'k' or whatever kids do these days? Fuck, Jess, I thought you'd wrote me completely off. I saw that you unfollowed me online. Shit, if I'd known-" He had stood up and was pacing.

"Sean," I said, forcing him to turn. "It wasn't a good idea. If I'd sent the 'k' or thumbs up, what would you have done?"

Realization flashed across his features. "I'd have rushed to you."

I nodded. "Exactly. You have to realize that we're not going to work. You and me? Not happening." I stood up and faced him. "You're where you need to be. With your boys, and whether you want to believe it or not, with HER." I reached for his hand and he gave it to me. "Friends, or nothing, Sean. Your choice this time."

I turned to leave and heard him laugh. "You're something, Jessa Halmand. You know that?"

"That's the rumor." I answered, walking back outside to the backyard and the party.