Moments Lost and Found (2 page)

He also knew, albeit somewhere deep in the
recesses of his mind, that all of his emotions this entire trip were already on
high. Truthfully, long before he came to Paris, his emotions were getting the
better of him in a way that they never had before. What he felt for Samantha
was fresh and new, and then, just as they were beginning to explore their
relationship, she broke away, introducing him to a whole new set of feelings.
The anger he had at her coupled with his love for her seemed to be at war with
each other. The patience he forced himself to have, waiting for her, and then
the fear of losing his mother and the overwhelming sense of relief when
Samantha walked into the hospital room coupled with the news that his mother’s
prognosis was good, all of these emotions would have been so much for anyone to
process. But for someone like Laurent who had kept everything in check for so
long, to have all of these come to the fore at once was overwhelming. Not that
Laurent would ever admit to being overwhelmed. It’s possible even he didn’t
know that’s what he was feeling. Which is why it was just easiest to retreat.

When Sam awoke the next morning, it was much like
how she had fallen asleep. There was no sign of Laurent in the room. As she got
up and made her way out of the bedroom she heard him already on the phone. His
tone was again angry and hushed. When he heard her come into the room he looked
up, caught her eyes and then quickly looked down and turned his back. He
mumbled a few more things into the phone and then hung up as he turned back to
her.

He just stared and coldly said, “Good morning,
Samantha.” Like they were strangers. Sam was shell-shocked. Usually, everything
looked better in the morning. But this, this was a hundred times worse. Sam
kicked into survival mode.
Fuck this
, she thought.
Two can play at
this game. He wants cold, welcome to the Antarctic
. “Morning.” She said
barely looking at him. She went to the table where there was coffee and poured
herself a cup then turned around to head back into the bedroom. There was no
way she was going to sit here and take whatever the hell was going on. She was
going to go for a run. A long run.

When she came back out a few minutes later dressed
clearly in running clothes, he just stared at her, “Where the hell do you think
you’re going?”

 “Excuse me?” If he wanted to add fuel to her
fire, he was doing a damn good job. She had no idea why he was suddenly so
angry with her but it was really starting to piss her off.

 “You’re not going out alone.” He said as he
crossed his arms across his chest.

 “Why, because you’re so clearly enjoying my
company?” she couldn’t even look at him. She picked up the room key as she made
her way to the door.

 “Samantha.” Was all he got out as he went to
block the door. Who the fuck did he think he was? Sam had no idea what was
going on, but she knew enough to know that whatever was in his mind, she wasn’t
staying around to find out. After last night, he clearly didn’t want to discuss
things, so why now was he so insistent on her staying put? Whatever his reason,
she wasn’t about to be ordered around.

Sam’s heart was pounding and her blood was
boiling. She was not going to be treated like some errant child, even though
all she could say, looking him square in the eye was, “Laurent.” As she turned
and reached for the door, he grabbed her arm spinning her back around to face
him.

 “Samantha.” Again was all he said.

 “Very good, Laurent. You’ve made it clear
this morning that you know my name.” she spat out sarcastically. All he could
do was stare at her as he gripped her arm. She waited for some type of reply,
but he simply stood there, staring at her, as though whatever it was that he
wanted to say was just too painful to utter. So she continued. “I don’t know
what the fuck is going on with you, but I am not going to be held hostage here
while you continue to say nothing other than my name. Either tell me what the
hell is wrong or let me go.”

 “Spare me the theatrics, Samantha. You are
not being held hostage. I am protecting you.” his tone was still ice cold. Sam
had no idea who this man was, but it wasn’t the Laurent that she had been
falling in love with. This man actually scared her. She wasn’t worried he’d
physically hurt her, even though her arm was starting to feel bruised, it was
more the fear that someone could change from so warm and loving to ice in a
matter of moments.

Calmly, without emotion or raised voice, Sam said,
“I’ve told you once before, Laurent, I don’t need saving. Now, take your hand
off my arm.” They stood there for a moment, staring at each other. After it was
clear that Sam wasn’t backing down, and to her surprise, Laurent released her.
She knew he probably had no idea he was even holding her that tightly but she
wasn’t about to forgive him. “I am going for a run. A long run. Alone. If
you’re here when I get back, then I hope that you will explain whatever the
hell is going on and what has changed in the span of a few hours. If you are
not here, then I will pack my bags and be on the next flight back home. It is
your choice, Laurent.”

As much as Laurent wanted to keep her there in the
safety of the room, he realized he couldn’t. Sam’s tone and body language had
made herself perfectly clear. It was one thing for her to submit to him in bed,
but they were not playing and she was not going to be ordered around like a
child. Especially given that he refused to actually talk to her or explain why
he was acting the way he was. Laurent stepped back and Sam opened the door.
When she heard it close behind her she realized, she suddenly had no idea what
the hell was going on in her own life.

It wasn’t until she started to walk through the
lobby that Sam saw the throngs of paparazzi through the front doors. There must
have been a couple dozen. Way more than the previous night. Regardless of how
brave Sam was just moments before in the room with Laurent, she knew she was no
match for what was outside. She quickly turned around and headed back into the
hotel. She couldn’t return to the room. She needed to run, she needed to clear
her head. She asked the concierge if there were a back door and explained why.
He led her through the staff entrance in the back for which she was grateful.

It was around 8am when Sam’s feet hit the
pavement, physically jolting her and mentally reminding her to just put one
foot in front of the other. If only everything in life were this clear. One
foot, followed by the other, on a path of her own making. As she started to
work out the kinks in her body, her muscles awoke as the city too started its
day. As she ran, Sam took careful note of which turns she made, knowing well
enough that she could get lost very, very easily if she didn’t pay attention.
That, coupled with the fact that paying attention to which street she was on
and where she was going helped occupy her mind. If she was noting street names
and landmarks that she passed, then she couldn’t be in her head trying to
figure out what may or may not await her back at the hotel.

For as close as she thought that she and Laurent
had become, she suddenly felt like he was a complete stranger. Obviously, the
paparazzi had set him off. But he was the one who had warned her about them. He
couldn’t have been surprised that they were there. And, it wasn’t like it was
the first time that they had their picture snapped by the gossip rags. It had
happened back at home. But all the conjecture in the world was not going to
explain anything. As Sam finally headed back towards the hotel after over an
hour’s run, she was exhausted and knew that
she
was ready to talk. She
hoped the same could be said for Laurent. But hell, she didn’t even know if
he’d be there when she got back. She chuckled to herself to take a good look
around because she might be on a plane in the very near future.

When Sam rounded the corner she realized she
didn’t have a contingency plan for getting back into the hotel. Now sweaty, she
really didn’t want this to be the second picture of her in the press. First
pigtails. Next, sweat-soaked shorts and a tank top. She had a baseball cap on,
perhaps she could make it through unnoticed? She first ran around to the back,
where she had exited earlier, but the doors were the type that could only be
accessed by an employee key card. So, she rationalized that they couldn’t
really know what she looks like, and again, it’s Laurent they’re after.

She jogged up to the front door with her head
ducked. The minute she got within 10 feet of the door she started hearing her
name being called as the crowd descended on her. She tried to walk, and then
run quickly through the all the men, but there were too many of them in too
small of a space and they closed in as she tried to keep moving forward.
Suddenly, Sam was surrounded on all sides by strangers, jostling, smelling of
stale cigarettes, bumping her with their cameras and their hands. Someone
grabbed her baseball cap and pulled it off her head. As they tugged, it caught
her ponytail and in the commotion she was suddenly being pulled back and down.
All she could see were bodies, faces she didn’t recognize and cameras pointed
at her. From behind, hands were grabbing her ass and arms, pulling her
backwards. She started screaming and tried to fight, jerking her body against
the pulling, trying to get away, but there were so many hands grabbing at her
and flashbulbs going off, men yelling horrible things about her and Laurent.
Her arms had been so slick with sweat that hands were sliding off of them and
then grabbing harder to hold on. She twisted and turned, trying to break free.
She felt like she was being pulled in all different directions and then
suddenly, finally, she heard a voice that broke through all the yelling. “
Get
the fuck off of her, NOW! So help me I will kill each and every one of you. MOVE!
”

Hands flew off of her, dropping Sam to the ground
as the crowd separated, turning their attention, cameras and flashes to that
voice. She looked up to see Laurent reaching towards her. His expression was
one of anger and fear and determination as he lifted her up and into his arms.
The yelling and flashes continued as Sam buried her face in his shoulder as he
carried her safely inside, her arms wrapped around his neck holding on for dear
life. Hotel security and bellmen were running towards the crowd to keep them
out as Laurent made their way to the elevator. Sam was in a state of
semi-shock. She had never been attacked before, and this, whatever it was, it
all happened so fast. The whole incident must have been over in less than a
minute. But it wasn’t the length of the assault, it was that it happened at
all. Sam was trying to process it, trying to figure out what happened. Why were
they so interested in her and why were they grabbing at her?

Laurent would not let her go. Even though Sam
could have stood, could have walked, his grip on her was vice-like. He
whispered, “I am so sorry,
Cheri
, I am so, so sorry.” Over and over
again as he stroked her hair. He carried her to their room and finally set her
down so he could open the door. Once he got it open he reached as if to carry
her in, but Sam held out her hand stopping him. She was still angry and hurt
and confused, and even given everything that just happened, it had only been a
couple hours earlier that they weren’t speaking to each other.

Reluctantly, he backed off, letting her go in.
Once the door closed Sam was surprisingly calm and focused. All of the
adrenaline from what had just happened manifested itself into clarity as Sam
looked at him and said, “I am going to take a shower. I need to wash the sweat
and their filthy hands off of me.” She paused, looked down and took a deep
breath. She knew that he wanted to hold her, she could see that he was holding
himself back from wrapping his arms around her as if that could change
everything. But he bit his tongue and forced himself to be still, letting Sam
continue.

 “When I come out, we need to talk. You need
to tell me what the hell happened last night.” He started to open his mouth but
she wasn’t finished. “Laurent, I’m more confused about who you were last night
and this morning than about what just happened out there.”

He nodded his head and, resigned, said, “ok, when
you’re finished with your shower, I will tell you everything.”

It wasn’t often that Laurent felt compelled to do
something that he didn’t intrinsically want to do. In fact, it was almost
never. There were few people he wanted or needed to please. Most everything in
his life was done on his terms. If people didn’t like that, he was always happy
to walk away. Very rarely did the other party not capitulate. But those other
people were typically business relationships, people who wanted whatever it was
that Laurent was offering, and in the end, Laurent got his way. As for the
other women in his life, Laurent could take ‘em or leave ‘em if they didn’t
want to play by his rules. But all of that was before Samantha. It was obvious
that shutting her out and doing things his way wasn’t going to work with her.
So Laurent took a deep breath and sighed, realizing that this, what he was
about to tell her, was just another moment that made it clear just how
different things were with her.

Sam spent a long time in the shower. She scrubbed
her body over and over trying to wash everything away. She knew she was lucky.
She knew women who had suffered far, far worse. But she was sickened by what
had happened. All of those strangers grabbing at her, putting their hands on
her, touching her. After a while, her fingers started pruning and she finally
decided there was no more that she could clean. The physical traces were washed
off. Now, the harder part. Facing Laurent.

She ran a comb through her hair and put lotion all
over her body. She could tell she was going to be sore later. Not from the run,
but from being pulled apart. She could also see there were scratches and the
beginnings of some bruises. Great, reminders, she thought as she pulled on a
t-shirt and yoga pants.

When she finally made it out to the living room,
once again Laurent was on the phone. But this time, when he looked up his face
was much softer when he saw her. He quickly hung up and came over to her,
“Samantha, I know you’re angry with me, but please let me hold you. I need to
feel you. I need to know that you’re ok.” Sam couldn’t really argue with that.
She
was
still angry, but she also wanted to be comforted and comforted
by him. He was the only one who could. Ironic since he was the source of her
anger too.

They walked towards each other and he pulled her
into his arms. They stood there for minutes saying nothing as he stroked her
back and her hair, kissing the top of her head, taking deep breaths over an
over as if he were breathing her in, ensuring it was really her, there in his
arms. Finally, he released her but only so far so he could cup her face in his
hands. He stared at her, tracing the sides of her face with his fingers and
then tracing her lips and her nose, then finally leaned down and kissed her
lips softly. The minute their lips touched he started shaking. He deepened
their kiss as Sam could feel Laurent’s tears falling down onto her. When the
tears stopped, he pulled away and looked deep into her eyes and said,
“Samantha, please forgive me. I don’t know what I’d do if something happened to
you.”

Sam had never seen Laurent cry, much less so
literally and figuratively shaken. She thought she had seen all the sides to
this man, but she realized there were parts of himself he had still held back.
She couldn’t blame him for not wanting to reveal what she was seeing now, but
it was a reminder to her of the depth of this man, and, that as much as she
knew about him, it was only what he chose to share with her, what he chose to
show her. She wasn’t so naïve to think that he was perfect, or that there were
no skeletons in his closet, but Sam wondered if it was possible to ever truly
know someone. She had felt like she did with Laurent, but obviously, there was
still more buried deeper beneath the surface.

 “It’s not your fault that those paparazzi
attacked me, Laurent!”

 “But I know what they’re after and I never
should have let you leave this morning.”

Sam smiled as she wiped away a tear from his
cheek, and said softly “You didn’t have a choice, Laurent.” Finally, he smiled
a little and laughed.

 “Ok, Samantha, let’s talk.”

 “When I was younger, I was, I guess you
could call, a player. I had already made a lot of money and was very
successful. I went out a lot and, uh, how should I say, there wasn’t a shortage
of women.” He looked down sheepishly.

 “I’m shocked, Laurent. A young, gorgeous,
rich, charming entrepreneur. I would imagine women were throwing themselves at
you.”

 “You think I’m gorgeous and charming,
Cheri
?”
his eyes lit up playfully.

 “Get on with the story.” She teased dryly.

 “I played the field. I wasn’t interested in
having a relationship. I was interested in having fun. Actually, I was just
interested in whatever suited me at the moment, and when I was done, I moved
on. So perhaps you should remove charming from your list. I think there are
probably quite a few women who would beg to differ on that point. Anyway, I was
32 and wasn’t thinking about anyone other than myself and moving on to the next
new thing. I started dating this girl Emilie for a little bit.” He shrugged and
raised his eyebrows, “She was fun and we had a good time, but honestly, I
couldn’t have even told you her last name before…” he trailed off and took a
deep breath.

 “Like I said, I wasn’t interested in
relationships and I thought I was clear about that. Emilie started wanting more
so I ended things. Abruptly. There had been a few girls before her who didn’t
take my, uh, breakup, very well, leaving a few nasty messages on my voice mail
or sending emails telling me what I could do with myself, but that was it. So
when Emilie started calling and calling, and waiting outside my house and
coming to my office, it wasn’t completely surprising, but it was at a level
that I had never before experienced. It wasn’t just a couple messages or
letters. But still, at the time, and to me, she was just some clingy girl who
was delusional about what we had together, which for me was some fun over a few
weeks. A month at most.” It was so clear that reliving this was painful for
Laurent, but there was also resigned determination in his eyes, he knew that he
had to share this with Sam.

 “This went on for at least a month and I
avoided her. When she couldn’t get to me, she finally went to one of the
tabloids telling them that we were in love and she was going to have my baby. I
knew that we weren’t in love, or at least that I wasn’t, so I assumed she was
lying about being pregnant since she was so irrational about everything else.
So when they asked me my side, I told them that she was nuts and yeah, we had
some fun together, but that was it, it was over and she was lying about having
my baby and even if she were pregnant, who knew if it was even mine. I
suggested that if she was sleeping with me, and everyone knew that I, uh,
played the field, that she was probably sleeping with other guys too.”

 “That story set off some really nasty
headlines. I didn’t care what they said about me and truthfully, none of it was
anywhere near as bad as what they said about her. They called her a slut and a
whore and called her parents trying to get more dirt, asking if she had always
been a little whore even when she was younger. They dug into her private life
and wrote the most horrible things. They talked to old friends and relatives… I
imagine they made her life a living hell.” Laurent looked down, running his
hands through his hair.

 “Samantha, I had no idea. You have to
understand. I barely even knew this woman. I never would have been so cavalier
if I knew how unstable she was or if I knew...” He paused again, looking pained
as he took a deep breath. “A few days later, when I arrived at my office,” he
paused and took in another deep breath, “she had charmed a security guard or
someone and convinced him to let her into my office.” He looked down again,
“When I walked in I found her hanging there.” Again, he paused, putting his
hands through his hair, “Later, when the police went through her effects, in
her purse was a sonogram and a DNA test. She had apparently collected some hair
or a toothbrush from me and, she wasn’t lying. She was pregnant and it was
mine.”

Sam was starting to understand why he hadn’t
shared this story with Sam. He looked like he was physically sick in the
retelling of it. She imagined that, if it were her, she would have wanted to
keep this buried for as long as possible. Few people like revealing their
damning pasts, but for someone like Laurent, someone for whom control is
everything, she understood why trying to control this message meant even more
to him than probably to most people. It wasn’t that he only wanted Sam to see
his good side. It was that this part of his past showed that even he could be
vulnerable in the worst kind of way.

 “A week later I got a vasectomy. It was the
only way I could be sure that I could never get anyone pregnant again. And I
stopped screwing around. I grew up.” Laurent was clearly ashamed. Ashamed not
just of what he had done, but of who he was. Sam doubted he had ever admitted
this to anyone. She knew that just saying the words out loud must have been
torture for him, for someone not used to explaining himself, this went way
beyond just that.

 “Needless to say, the press had a field day
with the story. And ever since then, I’ve tried to be very, very discreet if
I’m with a woman here in France. The minute they catch a whiff of a
relationship, they bring that one up. And they can be very, very nasty.”

 “I now realize just how much of an
understatement that is.” Sam said, trying to lighten the mood, but Laurent just
winced.

He took a deep breath and continued, “so when I
saw them last night, I panicked. It’s been so long that I’ve been in France
with a woman, I didn’t think this was news anymore or of interest, but when I
saw them, all I could think was,
merde
, I wasn’t thinking. I just wanted
to get the situation under control.”

Sam nodded. She did understand his reasoning, but
she needed to share with him what his actions did to her, how it made her feel.
“You pulled away from me last night. You were like a stranger to me this
morning. I could handle the story, Laurent. That’s all in the past. But I can’t
handle you just shutting down without any explanation.”

 “All I could think was that if I got some
distance from you I could handle things. I thought that if I explained
everything that it would be a discussion. And I didn’t want to discuss it. I’ve
told you before, I’m not used to explaining myself to anyone. All I wanted was
to put a stop to it. I didn’t want the past and that story being a part of us.”
He looked at her and took her hands, “
Cheri
, do not take this the wrong
way, but I wanted to just put you over here,” he motioned with his hands like a
box, “while I dealt with it.”

 “Laurent, you can’t just put me over to the
side when something messy comes up. There’s no pause button for me.”

 “Yes, Samantha. I realized that when you
walked out the door this morning.” He said with resignation. “Trust me, if
there were a, uh, pause button as you say, this morning never would have
happened.”

 “But you can’t control everything.” Sam
pleaded.

He actually smiled and said, “Hmmm, isn’t that
quaint coming from you?” Sam chuckled and realized he was right. “Well, it
looks as though we have a bit of a conundrum,
non
?” Sam furrowed her
brow as he explained, “Two control freaks in love, eh?” he took her hands and
brought them to his mouth, kissing both palms and then turning her hands over,
he kissed each finger tip.

As loving as this felt, Sam couldn’t forget what
had just happened, “It didn’t feel like love this morning.” He lowered her
hands into his lap, but he didn’t let go of them.

 “No, Samantha, it did not. I’m sorry for how
I acted. And I am so sorry for what happened to you this morning,” he lifted
her hands again to his mouth, but then squeezed them, “But
merde
,
Samantha, if you would have just listened to me. None of that would have
happened if you would have just trusted me.”

 “Laurent, I do trust you. But I can’t if you
pull away and don’t tell me what’s going on. If I had known why you didn’t want
me leaving, maybe I wouldn’t have.”

He raised his eyebrows, challenging her. “Really,
Samantha?”

 “Ok, probably not.” Sam conceded. “But now
that I do, trust me, I don’t want to ever experience that again.”

 “Did they hurt you?” his voice quieter than
before, as if by asking softly, he could influence the answer.

 “I’m ok. I’ll be a little sore tomorrow,
there are some scratches, but no, I’m not hurt.” She paused and then said, “I
was more hurt by you.” that landed hard. “You know, Laurent, last night was the
first night since we’ve been together that we haven’t, um, been together.” She
paused again and then continued, “Being in that crowd of men this morning was
terrifying. It all happened so quickly I had no idea what was going on. But
it’s something tangible that I can physically and mentally prepare for next
time. I’m a little banged up but it doesn’t hurt me inside. I can figure out
how to deal with it, do you know what I mean?” he nodded.

 “But you…” she exhaled and looked down,
pulling her hands to herself. “I felt helpless in that crowd of men, but I
could try to fight back and kick and scream.” She could see the pain on his
face when she said that, “but the helplessness I felt last night and this
morning with you… I couldn’t even fight back. There was nothing to fight
against. You just, emotionally, walked away.”

They sat in silence for a moment and then Sam
continued, “You know, I’m not used to explaining myself to anyone either, Laurent.”

He nodded, “I am starting to realize that,
Samantha.” He smiled. He looked exhausted.

 “You didn’t sleep at all last night, did
you?” she asked and he shook his head no. “Come on, let’s go take a nap. We
need to discuss what our plan of attack is from here on out but we’re not going
to do that well if we’re both exhausted.” He looked at her questioningly, and
she answered his unasked question. “Yes, Laurent, we’re figuring this out
together
.
But first, we sleep, and then you make love to me, and then we go tell those
mother-fuckers what will happen if they ever touch me or you again.” He
couldn’t help but smile.