Epilogue: Saving Heather Wells
I watch her sleeping. Breathing in and out. Safe. After the hell of the last couple days – she's here. It's over. I've got her. She's safe. And… we're in love.
It's… been a journey. To say the least. And I mean the whole thing's been a journey, the whole Heather Wells experience. I think you could say that Heather Wells crashed into my life like a meteor. It's all been one unpredictable, life-changing adventure.
She breathes deeply, sleeps soundly. And my mind wanders…
The first time I saw her, I knew she was trouble.
It was a typical day. I came home for dinner because my mother asked me to. I didn't care too much to see Jordan or my father – always talking about Jordan's career and my own lack of interest in the "family business." Not exactly my idea of a good time. But… sometimes it's hard saying no to my mom.
I walked in the front door and noticed a girl - well, a young woman - staring out the window at the rain pouring down. She was clad in what seemed like a cheaply-made glitter top and a short jean skirt, her hair teased and tormented until it took on some faux-popular 'do. She looked like she was trying too hard and I rolled my eyes, realizing instantly that my dad had once again invited the newest act for the label to dinner at our house - to meet the family. I really was not eager to impress a stranger.
A crack of thunder made her jump and she turned around and noticed me standing there and jumped again. She smiled and attempted to look cool and confident, but I could see her nervousness, her insecurities, rolling off her in waves. She walked toward me, her hand outstretched the entire time, to introduce herself, and something inside of me shifted. Forgetting my earlier annoyance, I tried to make her feel welcome. I suddenly was acting the way my father always wanted me to act- being nice to the "up and coming stars." But I didn't even care. It was like right then, I felt protective of this girl. She was clearly out of her element. And for some reason, I wanted to help her feel okay.
The feeling never went away. It has just intensified little by little, year after year.
She was nervous during dinner, seemed to find my jokes funny while they just annoyed everyone else – her boyfriend included. She seemed self-conscious and unsure about herself as a star… and too young for Jordan. And I knew he liked her. I watched him stare at her like he had just found his latest conquest.
I will not be so presumptuous to say that I fell in love that day or anything like that. My god, she was just a kid! All I know is that… when I left my parents' house that day, I thought about her on my drive home. I laughed at some joke she'd made at the table that no one had gotten. And I worried that my brother would probably win her heart... and then break it. Someday.
We became friends pretty quickly. Somewhere between then and now – at some fuzzy time frame that includes us laughing and bantering, and talking into the night about life and its inherent craziness – I fell for her.
I glance down again when she makes a noise that gets my attention. But she doesn't wake. She stirs, and then her features clear and she takes a deep breath. Once again, my mind flashes back…
The first time we ever fought was a bit of a wake up call for me. It scared the hell out of me, in fact. I mean – I didn't need to be fighting with my brother's girlfriend. After all, I was hearing enough female chirping in my ears from the girls I chose to hear it from – the ones I was dating.
In fact, the first time I ever fought with Heather was in front of a girl I was dating. Lara. My college sweetheart.
I brought her home and Heather and Jordan were there. Everyone met, and it seemed fine. Until about two hours later. We were all hanging out.
Heather and Lara sat side-by-side – and somehow, at some point – something fell off kilter in my perfect relationship. Lara looked like a magazine cut-out complete with a carved-out personality from the pages of Vogue. She was brilliant. I loved that about her. She matched me in every subject, and could've been a bona fide rocket scientist she was so smart.
Beside her, Heather was far from perfect. Insecure. Too jokey. Too silly. She made mistakes, said too much, ate whatever she wanted, despite what her contract said - thankfully. She was human. She got under my skin sometimes, too.
Her insistence that night that at 17 she could have one beer - and Jordan's happy compliance with the request, for example - got under my skin.
"You act like a cop, Coop," Heather said that night, batting my hand away as I tried to take the drink away from her. "Or worse - a big brother."
"I just have no desire to sit around, having a drink with a minor - a baby - a 17 year old pop star," I shot back. I've always done that; whenever Heather got under my skin I got too heated, and said things. Mean things.
She looked kind of wounded at my words. And why not? We'd been friends for two years. When I was with her, I didn't think of her or talk to her like she was some kid. She was my friend - but just younger.
She took a sip of the beer, and just looked at me - a challenging expression on her face. One I have seen quite a lot over the years. It's actually an expression I love. It's the fighter in her, the stubborn woman... the girl who can do anything she sets her mind to. And on that night, she set her mind to being a stupid teenager. And it grated on my nerves.
I sighed, shook my head at her, and walked away with Lara, hand-in-hand.
"Coop, you're getting all worked up over nothing," Lara said. "They're teens. You probably did the same thing when you were their age."
I sat down at my parents' kitchen table and looked at Lara, shaking my head. "His age, maybe. But she's seventeen."
"I had a drink or two when I was seventeen," Lara confessed with a shrug. "It's fine."
She was right. I knew she was right. But I still wanted to snatch the drink from Heather, and put her somewhere where she couldn't get her hands on any alcohol. And not let her out until she was 21.
It was irrational. Completely irrational. I didn't understand it. More importantly, I didn't like it. I reasoned that I was merely being the big brother Heather never had. But... something about that categorizing didn't feel right.
"Anyway, your brother seems to have her under control," Lara said. "I don't know about you, but I'd much rather hang out with, you know, people our age tonight. I think I've had enough of pop stars, teenage rebellion, underage drinking - you name it," she said, laughing and rolling her eyes. Clearly wanting to completely dismiss Heather and Jordan and be somewhere more worthwhile.
I squeezed her hand and agreed it was time to leave. I told myself that it was not my job to look out for Heather. She had her mom and Jordan - hell, even the record label. I glanced once more at her, sitting there definitely getting tipsy quickly. Something tightened in my stomach - something that felt like a touch of anxiety. It was fleeting and then replaced once again by my annoyance. She met my eyes and smiled - a big infectious grin that normally had the power to elicit a smile from me in return. She held her beer up in a silent toast.
She was mocking me.
I narrowed my eyes and turned on my heel, leaving without saying goodbye, hand-in-hand with Lara.
I seethed for the rest of the night - even while Lara and I hung out with some very good friends. And that just annoyed me. No kid was going to have this kind of control over my emotions. It wasn't right, it didn't make sense... and it was making me crazy.
I decided that I had seen far too much of Jordan and Heather lately and it was high time for a nice, long break from the duo. Maybe being friends with pop stars was not for me. Even ones that were normally funny and... real.
That was that. We had a very small fight. Barely. But it resulted in my not speaking to her or visiting for nearly two months.
My mother called me over for dinner one night - and even though I didn't want to go, I did. Again, it was hard to say no to my mother. I had hoped that Heather would not be there.
I look down at her now, and watch her breathe in. In. Out.
Safe. Thank god.
So I went to dinner that night. I watched our maid set the table, watched my mom call a caterer about a party she was hosting in a week - busied myself doing anything except interacting with Jordan and Heather, who I was told were hanging out in the sun room.
It was juvenile of me. To think this had all started because of how immature I had found Heather to be on one night in the two years I'd known her - and here I was doing a move mastered by third graders across the country - avoiding and ignoring her.
I couldn't even explain it. I just... that night, when I walked out with Lara, I had decided that I needed to focus on my relationship. On college. On people my own age. I needed to distance myself from my incredibly annoying family. And I needed to take a step back from Heather. I just decided not to care so much. And I knew to keep it up, I had to avoid her. I was getting pretty good at it.
"Honey, would you tell Jordan and Heather that dinner is being served?" my mom asked me.
I nodded and headed to the sun room. Just as I approached, I was stopped in my tracks by a sound I'd never heard before. Heather. Crying.
"I already told you, babe," Jordan said, sounding like the lead from a soap opera. "I'm not going to let him near you."
I squinted my eyes. Who was he talking about? Let who near her?
"Jordan," she said, sniffling, her voice quivering a bit. "This guy won't go away. I've received letters before. So have you!" she said. "But this one guy... he writes about things I do in my personal time. He has close up photos. He is doctoring pictures of me... bad pictures," she added, her voice failing a bit.
I knew I should have shown my face already - told them to come to dinner. But I was rooted to the spot. Heather was being stalked?
Why hadn't anyone told me? Why was I getting phone calls from my mom about the sales of Jordan's latest single and updates about the latest gossip rags touting Heather and Jordan's whereabouts, but not a peep about this?
"And now - it's all threats. Really awful threats. About touching me. About hurting me. Killing me even! I... I..."
She didn't finish her thought. She burst out crying, and I waited a few more moments, before turning around and walking right back into the kitchen.
"What's going on with Heather?" I demanded to my mother.
She hung up the phone and looked at me confused. "What do you mean?" she asked. "She is eating too much," she said. "If that's what you're talking about. Her mom is trying to talk to her about that. She doesn't want her to lose her contract."
My eyebrows shot up at that. Was she serious? "Let her eat what she wants," I said, frustrated. See, this was exactly why I hated the family business... and the family half the time as well. "That is not what I was talking about," I said after a moment. "Is Heather being stalked?"
"Oh, that!" my mom said, recognition clearing her expression. "Yes, she is."
I waited - only she didn't say anything more.
"What do you know about it?" I finally asked.
"Um, let me see," she said, gazing skyward. "He's been writing for about a month. About a letter every three or four days. He knows a lot about her. He seems to follow her around. He has pictures of her doing private things... getting her hair done one day, getting a manicure another day... going to singing lessons..."
I shoved my hands in my pockets and clenched my jaw – anger coursing through me.
"What is being done about it?" I finally managed.
"Well, dad and Heather's mom both agree that we should leverage this for some good PR for her. Really play up the victim angle. People love that. And honestly, she's hit a bit of a rut lately. Her career could really use the boost."
My mouth fell open and I was honestly at a complete loss for words.
I suddenly felt sick. I had turned my back on her, because I didn't want to be bothered anymore with worrying about her, looking out for her... But in that moment I realized, no one looked out for her. No one. Not her greedy mother, not my stupid brother, and most definitely not my family or the label.
Before I could say anything more, Jordan walked in - happy as a clam. And that just annoyed me.
"Heather will be here in a few," he explained. "She's just freshening up. Hey bro."
I said nothing and left the room - heading towards the sun room again.
Heather was heading out of the room and I could see the evidence from her cry. Her cheeks were red, her eyes were bleary and she just... didn't look herself.
When she saw me, she stopped in her tracks, a look of surprise on her face. "Hi, Coop," she said. And then she smiled. I knew it was a real smile too.
This time, I did smile in return as I took a few more steps in her direction. "Hey," I said. I looked at her closely. "Everything okay?"
She nodded and put on a brave face. "Yes," she said. She seemed to study me as well. "How's school? How's Lara?"
Something tightened inside. If I hadn't put up such a wall, perhaps she would have confided in me. But it didn't matter. My days of pushing her away were over. I knew that with certainty.
"Good," I simply answered.
"Listen, Cooper, I'm really sorry," she said quietly. "About that night, I mean. I didn't mean to-"
"It's okay," I said, cutting her off quickly. I really couldn't stand the idea of her apologizing to me with everything she had going on. "I'm sorry too," I added. Because I was. I was honestly really sorry.
After that, it was all a big roller coaster.
Investigating her stalker inspired me to become a private investigator. The cases were interesting - although that first case was terrifying. Because of my pig-headedness, Heather's stalker very nearly kidnapped her after a concert... and he did manage to cop a feel and cause her to break - really break - in Barrett's office afterward, which nearly destroyed me.
Life seemed to whiz by, and our friendship got stronger and stronger.
Heather and Jordan stayed together far longer than I ever thought they would. And while that annoyed me - because amazingly my brother only got progressively more annoying with time - I was true to my promise to myself and became an unwavering friend to Heather.
As she got older and could legally enjoy a drink with me, I stopped thinking of her as a kid or a pop star. She progressively moved from friend to good friend - and eventually to best friend. Her ability to crack me up was more constant the closer we got.
No matter how much time passed by, she never bought into the glitz and the glamour of her career. She was real and cool - and I found that I liked spending time with her – probably liked it more than I should have. When I was honest with myself back then - when she was in her early 20's - I knew I liked her. I held a bit of a candle for my little brother's girlfriend. And that really drove me nuts. It was not what I needed or wanted. But... I couldn't deny that it was the case.
When they got engaged, something old sparked inside of me. Something like I'd felt that night so long ago. I felt annoyed at her. Angry. Confused. And torn. I felt like I would be better off if I turned my back on our friendship.
But... I couldn't. Not again. So I didn't.
I threw myself into work. And into dating different girls. No one ever seemed right.
And one day, I got the call that changed it all. They'd broken up.
Heather moved out. The engagement was off. And she needed a place to live. That moment changed the course of my whole life.
I lay down now and stare at her.
I couldn't tell you when I fell in love with her. I really don't know. It was a slow burn. What we had for so many years was a friendship unlike any other I'd ever had. I felt a need to protect her that confused me - and drove so many of my actions in our relationship. But it truly was platonic.
And yet... when she got engaged, I was miserable. And when it was over, I felt something akin to hope. And definite happiness.
I knew I liked her for a long time. But love? I honestly have no idea when it happened. But I remember clear as day when I realized that I loved her and couldn't live without her.
I shudder now just thinking about it. About how my stupidity very nearly almost cost her her life.
I told her that I couldn't be her rebound guy. I basically pushed her to date someone else. So she did. When she first started disappearing for dates, I was frustrated and irritated. At her. At myself. At this man. At the thoughts in my head about what they were doing in their spare time...
I squeeze my eyes shut. I hated that. I couldn't turn the thoughts off and they nearly drove me mad. Oh, I knew I was jealous all right. And I knew I was to blame for all of it. But I hoped that she'd be free again soon. And then... then I wouldn't miss my chance. I wouldn't be a total idiot. I'd immediately ask her out. I'd make sure that we got the chance we deserved. I just knew we'd be great together...
And then an old demon came back to life. Her stalker was back and more threatening than before. He took a man's life!
These last few days have honestly been insane. This is all a blur, but just the thought of all that transpired causes my blood to run cold. Even now, I have to wrap my arms around her and remind myself that she is safe and alive. And with me.
The moment I realized that I loved Heather was when she was lying in my bed just a few days ago, looking up at me with those big blue eyes of hers. I had asked her to sleep with me, rather than on the couch. I knew she was just as wired with nerves as I was. I knew the only way we could get any sleep was if she was next to me.
After she climbed into bed and pulled the covers up, she just stared up at me. In her pink Superman pajamas, her hair in a messy ponytail, no makeup on - she looked the exact opposite of the girl I first met all those years ago. She was not trying to be anything with me. She was my best friend. My roommate. And I knew she felt safe with me. She looked vulnerable and honest looking up at me and my heart told me clearly a message I had been ignoring for so long. I absolutely was in love with her.
I couldn't let anything happen to her. I wouldn't let anything-
Except Heather, being stubborn pigheaded Heather, didn't give me the chance to really protect her, did she? No. She went and got herself kidnapped to ensure that I was safely freed.
She had no idea. I had never told her. She didn't know that I was so far gone over her - so in love - that when she traded herself for me, I nearly died. When I saw that van drive off, I swear my heart almost stopped.
I was ready to kill Barrett, Angie, Jordan - everyone who helped her achieve her plan.
When he drugged her, I waited for hours for some kind of response from her. But I got nothing. And then our men tracking them lost them. I was panicking, with no idea if she was okay - and no idea where she was going. I honestly let myself come to terms with the fact that I'd messed up again with this stalker. Only this time she had no bodyguards to help her after my screw-up. She was gone for good. I really thought that.
When I charged up my cell phone and saw a missed call from her and a voicemail, I felt like an ice cold hand gripped my heart. Hearing her voice played with my emotions big time. But her words…
"I l-love you. And… I know I shouldn't. I know that you don't really feel that way about me…"
My heart ached listening. Of course she would think I didn't care. When she asked me out, I pushed her to find someone else, basically. Right there, I knew I'd die if I never got the chance to tell her she was wrong. I had to tell her she was wrong. I needed her to know that I loved her more than anything.
I promised myself that if I ever got to talk to her again I would just tell her. Even if it was just over the microphone. I would tell her everything. All of it.
After seven hours, I laid down. I allowed the paramedics to stitch the gash on my head. They told me my blood pressure was through the roof, that I was having an anxiety attack, that I needed medicine. Help. I ignored them and just lay there staring at the ceiling. Waiting. Praying.
My brother came by to see how I was 'holding up.'
"How do you think?" I'd said, acid in my tone.
"Well, you just got eight stitches in your head, so I guess you're not feeling too good," he'd said, like the idiot he is.
I looked at him, my gaze seething.
"What?" he'd asked, innocently.
"Do you think I care about a cut on my head? Do you really think that I am agonizing over that?"
He put his hands up defensively and took a little step away from me. "Look, I know you're worried about Heather, but—"
"I can't believe you helped her do this," I said, standing up, facing my brother, ready on some level to beat him unconscious. My anger, my resentment was that strong in that moment.
"I thought—"
"No, Jordan, you didn't. You didn't think!" I exploded. "Not about her anyway. You have never thought about her. Since the beginning, it was always The Jordan Show, and Heather was some kind of disposable guest star."
"What are you talking about, bro? I loved her."
I laughed. Actually laughed. Though I felt nothing akin to humor or happiness. But his words were so ludicrous to me in that moment that it's all I could do. "Please," I said. "You loved her? You just helped her get kidnapped by a man that murdered someone a couple of days ago and promises that she is next," I said. My voice was faltering, I could hear it. The anger, the fear – it was getting the most of me. But I had to say this.
"This man has threatened her, has said he'd do unspeakable things to her, and has already tried to kill her. And you handed her over to him."
Suddenly, on that thought, I found it hard to breathe. I put a hand in my hair and turned away from my brother.
"Cooper," he said. "Look. I didn't know the whole story—"
I turned and looked at him, incredulity in my gaze wondering how on earth we could be related?
"And you know what? Back when this guy made his first appearance in her life, I didn't know the whole story. But I sure as hell wouldn't have signed her up to spend time with him alone!"
"Cooper."
This time, Jordan's voice stopped me. Something in his tone—
I looked up at him and waited.
"I said I loved her. I never said that I loved her the way you do."
That stopped me. I didn't know what to say. But I was sick and tired of pretending that I didn't love her. I'd played that game for too long and look where it had gotten us.
"I know, okay?" he said. "And it's fine. I am rooting for you guys actually," he added lightly. "Anyway, I was beginning to worry you'd never fall in love and settle down."
"Because of you, Jordan, I may never get the chance," I finally said, tears springing to my eyes despite my best efforts to keep them back.
"This is going to work out," he said. "She will be fine. She's smart… and a fighter."
I nodded. I knew that only too well. But it didn't stop the gut-wrenching worry from robbing me of breath with each passing moment.
That was when Jerry, Angie's boyfriend and partner, ran up to us saying Heather was awake, asking for me. I ran back into Barrett's trailer as fast as I could, leaving Jordan behind.
I wasn't sure she believed my confession of love. I spoke with truth, quietly, hating that it had to be like this. But at least I had told her the truth. I prayed I would get the chance to see her. Because then she wouldn't be able to question my feelings.
This was as close a call as we've ever had. Thank god I got there when I did.
When we charged in on the scene, the officers were quickly able to take care of the anti-fan club. I briefly registered that someone had punched Tad and was cuffing him. But I couldn't even bring myself to care. I couldn't see her. I could hear Angie yelling at Tad's crew – demanding to know where Heather was. My heart was in my throat when I saw it. The sauna. I ran as fast as I could until I was staring at a door had a digital temperature on it that read 201 F.
"Oh my god," I said over and over as I busted the lock and broke open the door. She collapsed into my arms, completely out cold. I carried her out into the main room and paramedics rushed to her. I took a step back, registering bruises, a huge bump on the head and the fact that even smelling salts didn't bring her to.
Yes, this has been a nightmare. But it's over now.
The whole Heather Wells experience has been a ride. Looking at her, I smile. Because now we are here, together.
I've learned a lot. When it comes to Heather, I absolutely cannot push her away, deny my feelings or turn my back on her for a second.
She needs me. And I need her more than I've ever needed anything in my life.
We just make sense. She gets me. She is so completely un-perfect… and yet I wouldn't change one thing about her.
Last night, we finally crossed that line. The one that's always divided us. And I've never felt anything more right in my life. And I knew that it would be like that. A few days ago when we practiced kissing as part of our ruse, I felt it all then – pure electricity. Somehow I always knew kissing Heather Wells would be something entirely new… and amazing.
I run my hands along the smooth skin of her back and wake her with a kiss. I can't help it.
The more I let my mind wander down memory lane, the more I realize that last night was just our beginning. Kissing her makes me the happiest man in the world. So why not do it again? Why not do it all again…
She giggles against my mouth and puts her hands in my hair, pulling me closer to her. She boldly explores me with her hands and I laugh. She never ceases to surprise me.
Now it's my turn to surprise her.
I have a question I want – need – to ask her.
And this time, I won't put it off. From now on, I'll do it all the right way.