AN: So… a bittersweet moment here. This is the last chapter of Sorry Ladies, Northman's Off the Market. It was my very first attempt at writing fan fiction, and I am so amazed that so many people took the time to read the story, and more so that it got such a fantastic response.
Thank you to everyone, as always, for reading! And thank you to the ever talented Sunkisz for putting up with my craziness.
Disclaimer: Still don't own most of it. Never have, and am happy to have the ability to play with the lovely characters Ms. Harris created.
Chapter 32
EPOV
I couldn't believe it.
I stood there and watched in shock as Sookie walked away from me. I called her name once, twice, and she moved forward, stepping out of the door and out of my life.
I was frozen, my feet rooted in place as the last glimpse of white disappeared from my view. I heard her sobs from the hall, followed by Amelia and Stav's reassuring voices. I knew she didn't want to see me right now, and knew that there was nothing I could say that would be of comfort to her. Hell, I was too confused, too pissed off to say anything that would make her feel better. No. Better to give her time to cool down and then try to reason with her.
I couldn't understand why she was upset with me. Even after that tirade, I didn't see what I had done wrong. I had stood up to my Father, done the whole John Hughes moment she wanted me to do. I had stopped Sookie from having to go through with something she obviously did not want to - I'd seen the way she'd winced when the priest had mentioned family, seen the struggle on her face as she said "I do". As much as I could see the benefit of being married to her, I did not want it to be like this. We already were off to bad start, what with Madeline being the root of our engagement. If we went through with it, whatever the end result once we got back to the States, I knew that she'd regret getting married because we were being blackmailed.
My heart skipped a beat when she called out my name and fainted. I'd never seen her look so pale, so drawn. Even after what had happened with Andre, she'd snapped to it and looked like Malibu Barbie in no time. It made me sick to realize that she was in this state because of me. I swept her up in my arms and carried her through the crowd of stunned onlookers to the private room she had gotten dressed in. Pam gave me a cold cloth to put on Sookie's forehead, and I sat and watched her while she was unconscious, her shallow breath causing the corset of her wedding dress to rise and fall rapidly.
Her wedding dress.
I couldn't believe that I'd allowed it to go this far, that I had agreed to let Father play the Von Trapp children to our goat puppets and tug our strings all the way up to the altar. Well, damned if I was going to let it go farther than that.
She looked beautiful walking up the aisle, her eyes never leaving mine. Stunning really. Any man would be proud to have his bride look as Sookie did. But I could see the conflict in her eyes, and I would have traded anything to have her standing in front of me in a simple sundress in somebody's backyard. Heck, we could've gotten married by a midget Elvis impersonator for all I cared. Though, I suppose we wouldn't be in the position we were in if I had that option – Father would definitely not approved of a backyard wedding for his only son. I chuckled as I imagined his reaction to that scenario. Yeah, he definitely wouldn't approve of that for me. But, fuck him. I couldn't care what he thought anymore. He'd gone too far this time. I was done.
I was blindsided by her anger when she came to. I'd been patient, even concerned for her, but she pushed me too far. When she had shoved her ring at me, I lost it. Should I have been more understanding? Maybe. But she'd scared the shit out of me when she fainted, and then had the nerve to wake up all Mommy Dearest? It'd been a hell of a day for me too, whether she realized it or not. Getting married, even in the way we were getting married, was a big deal. It was the end of my life as a single man, and even though my hand was being forced, I was walking into it knowingly. Fuck, even happily if I was being honest.
And now I was standing alone with a priceless ring in my hand and a bouquet of pink roses at my feet. Both thrown at me by the same woman. The woman I was sleeping with. The woman I had almost married.
I gave Sookie what I felt was adequate time to cool down before I left to go after her. Pam and Mom had stayed behind to make excuses to the guests and to try to minimize Sookie and my exposure in the messy affair. Father had wanted a scandal bigger than Sophie-Anne and Pam, and he sure as hell got one. He'd looked like a fool, chastised by his ex-wife and children in front of his peers; the Daddy that pushed his son into getting married. That'd be one hell of a story. And I was sure that Thalia wouldn't rest so easily just because Mom had threatened her. Once we were gone, there was only Father left to hurt. Outside of Sweden, no one gave two fucks who I was, and I liked it that way. Let him be splashed across the front page of every tabloid. It was what he deserved. I didn't care if I ever saw him again.
What I did care about, however, was getting back to square one with Sookie. We'd started off on the wrong foot, what with her pretending to be my fiancé when I wasn't even sure that she liked me, there was no reason to make the farce come to fruition. All I wanted was to return to Shreveport and start over. To date, like normal people did, and not worry about pretending to be engaged or getting married in some elaborate ceremony.
My flat was empty when I returned, Sookie's belongings strung across our bedroom floor as she had left them the night before. It was apparent that she hadn't come back yet. I could wait.
I sat on the couch and waited. I waited as the sun moved across the sky and the light cast shadows through the large windows. I waited and waited, and she never showed up.
Pam and Mom returned to the flat after the sun had set, and I sat in the dark, still waiting.
"She's with Amelia. I'm sure she just needs time," Pam reassured. "Amelia will take care of her. I'm sure Sookie will come back tomorrow."
I crawled into bed, not even bothering to take off my clothes before falling into a restless sleep. I awoke in the morning to find my bed empty. I hadn't expected her to come back in the night, but that didn't mean that I wasn't hoping she would.
I peeled off the tuxedo and climbed into the shower, trying to do something, anything that would keep my mind from replaying the conversation we had. It didn't work. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw her standing there in front of me looking angry, hurt, betrayed by me. I just wanted laughing, smiling Sookie back.
When she wasn't back by noon, I got worried. What if something had happened to her? Yes, she was with Amelia and Stav, but they didn't know Stockholm. I knew that the press would be out in droves looking for an exclusive story. If they found Sookie, if she got cornered alone… I didn't want to think about what she'd have to face.
"Eric," Pam said stepping into my room where I sat on my bed, looking out the window. I looked back at her, haggard from the events of the last 24 hours. "I just got a call from Amelia."
I jumped up from where I had been sitting and crossed the room in four strides, stopping in front of Pam. "And?"
"And…" she trailed off, reaching her hand out to rub my arm with a concerned look on her face. That couldn't be good. "And, she wanted to let me know that she and Stav flew home with Sookie. She's in Shreveport."
All my pent up anger, all the confusion that was bubbling inside of me came to the surface. I wanted to hit something, break something, anything that would make this feeling go away. How dare she run? How dare she fly across the fucking ocean to put distance between us, without at least letting me talk to her first? She was the one that had been worried about me ending things. Ha. Looks like she had a self-fulfilling prophecy.
"Get out," I demanded.
"Eric," Pam said, her voice full of concern. "She isn't used to-"
"No," I cut her off. I couldn't hear whatever she was going to say. Sookie had decided that fleeing was better than staying and fighting. She obviously wanted out. And if that's what she wanted, that's what she'd fucking get. I wasn't going to crawl back to her. "I don't want to talk to you. Get out."
I wallowed in self pity for two days, only leaving my room for alcohol. I drowned myself in scotch, drinking myself into a stupor so that I wouldn't have to feel. I didn't like feelings – I fucking hated them. I didn't want to have them. Fuck, I hadn't had many feelings before Sookie, now they were all that consumed me. Pam and Mom tried to talk to me about it the first day when I sobered up enough to leave my room and get more alcohol. It was like they thought we were on The fucking View and they were Joy fucking Behar and that blonde bitchy one that always gets in trouble for saying stupid shit.
On the second day, I packed up all of Sookie's things, wanting to rid myself of her memory. I thought she would have at least called me by now, but it became clear that she hadn't been lying when she said she was done. If she could easily remove me from her life, I could do the same.
"Get these out of here," I ordered Pam, throwing Sookie's suitcase at her. "I don't want to see them again."
Pam and I flew back to Shreveport in the same plane we'd flown in on. I tried not to think of Sookie, tried not to think of how she'd let me touch her for the first time in the very seat I was sitting in, but it was impossible. And of course, no amount of alcohol helped. The more I drank, the more I thought of her, the more I missed her. I shoved my way to the back room and locked myself in. At least there wouldn't be memories of her there.
I somehow managed to make it through the flight, and through the drive back to the house I shared with Pam. I fell into a dead sleep, the jet-lag allowing me my first full night's rest since Sookie left. I did my best to push her out of my mind - really I did - but there were just too many damned things that reminded me of her. She'd been in my house, in my car, at my work. There was no where I could go to escape her. Even my damned sister reminded me of her.
At first, Pam tiptoed around me, giving me a wide berth like I was the fucking iceberg and she was afraid that she was the Titanic. That didn't last very long. No, soon she started pulling that Dear Abby shit and tried to give me advice about what I needed to do about Sookie. "Abby says to face our problems head on." Yeah, I doubt Abby had ever had a bouquet of flowers flung at her head by the woman she had almost married. Let Abby figure that one out.
I buried myself in work, grateful that there was a lot to catch up on. While Charles and Felicia had done a good job running the club in our absence, there were certain things only I knew how to do. I went into work early in the morning, and didn't come home until closing. I talked to vendors, met the delivery people, served beer to freaking drunks every night, anything to keep myself busy.
I thought I was going to have a freaking heart attack every time I saw a blonde head through the crowd at the club, and hated myself for my disappointment when it turned out to be some Paris Hilton clone instead of my Sookie. Fuck. I really needed to stop thinking of her as my Sookie.
Resolution 122: Do not think of Sookie as anything in relation to me.
Yeah, good luck with that.
I ignored Alcide and Russell Edgington when they came into the club, forcing Pam to coddle them for once. I had barely been able to stand them when there was no lingering Sookie memory there. Now I wanted to punch Alcide in the face for reminding me of her.
"Goddammit Eric," Pam snapped at me, after Jason and his friends walked into the club and I instructed the staff to seat them at the far end of the bar where I wouldn't have to see them. "You need to pull your head out of your ass."
"What?" I snapped. I wasn't ready to deal with Pam and her Dr. Phil on crack advice yet.
"You. Are. Acting. Like. A. Complete. Dickhead," she said slowly, as if I was Corky Thatcher.
"Get the fuck away from me," I growled, which was met with a shrill laugh.
"You're acting like a lovesick pup," she continued. "You mope around all day like you're Wednesday Adams and Robert Smith's love child. Grow a set and go see Sookie."
"I don't know what you're talking about."
"Oh sure you don't," she taunted. "She asked about you the other day."
I felt my heart stop. Fuck. She shouldn't affect me like this. I should be over her. Not being affected by the sound of her name was Resolution 19.
"Who asked about me?"
Pam rolled her eyes and leaned on the edge of my desk. "Don't pretend you don't know who I'm talking about. Your face went all fluttery like you're a thirteen year old girl and I just said I saw a Jonas Brother. You know who I'm talking about."
"When did you see her?" I asked. As much as I didn't want to hear about her, there was a part of me that ached to know what she was doing, to know that she was okay. Fuck Resolution 42.
"I, unlike you, my dear brother, actually had the balls to go see her. She accepted my apology for getting her into this whole mess, and we've moved on."
"Yeah, well you weren't the one fucking her." That sounded crass, even to me. I winced and continued, "You weren't the one that she left standing there and you weren't the one she told that she was done with you. You might have pissed her off, but you're not the one she walked out on."
"Give her a little leeway Eric," Pam said. "You stopped her wedding." I looked up at her sharply. "Okay, so it wasn't the wedding she'd always dreamed of having, but you jilted her at the altar nonetheless."
"Is that what she said? Is that why she's mad?" I felt my hopes rise up and quickly stabbed them in the eyeballs. I shouldn't care (Resolution 4). I didn't care (Resolution 5). "Not that it matters."
Pam laughed and rolled her eyes as she stood up. "Better be careful, Eric Northman. You better be careful, because through all that I-don't-care brooding, your smitten is showing."
"Fuck you, Pam." I was not smitten. I didn't care. Remember?
She sauntered out of the room and stopped at the doorway. "For Christ's sake, just call her already!"
No. That wouldn't be happening.
Resolution 1: I will not call Sookie Stackhouse.
It was one week after I'd come back to work, thirteen days since I'd stood at the altar with Sookie when I heard a knock on the door of my office. I had instructed Pam that no one was to disturb me, and angrily crossed the room to rip the door open, prepared to put the offender in their place.
"Sookie," I gasped, looking down at her slight frame standing before me. She was wearing a simple blue sundress, her hair spilling across her shoulders, just as I liked it. My fingers itched to touch her, to pull her towards me and ease the tension that was radiating off of her.
"I come in peace," she said, lifting up her hands to show me that she meant no harm with a short laugh. When I said nothing, she continued. "Okay, I realize it's shallow, making a joke to clear the way, but –"
"Don't," I said, and stepped back to allow her inside. I looked up to see Pam and Amelia's eyes focused on us from down the hallway. "Come in." Whatever was about to happen, I didn't want it to be a spectacle. I'd been party to too many of those lately.
"There's so much I want to say," she started, running her hand nervously through her hair.
Don't look at her hair. Don't look at her hair.
"Why don't you sit down," I interrupted, walking over to my desk and seating myself in my oversized chair. I didn't trust myself to be near her. I was afraid that I'd throw her against the wall and ravish her on the spot. As much as I wanted to hate her, one look at her and it was all but wiped away. Almost. "I know that there are things you want to say, but there is something I need to ask you first."
She nodded, walking over to sit across from me. "All right. I suppose you deserve that."
"Why?" I asked simply. Why in the hell did she have to look so good? Smell so good? Why couldn't she come in looking like a Kardashian sister? At least I'd stand a chance that way.
"Why what?" she asked, biting her bottom lip.
"Why did you leave, and never look back? Why didn't you wait for me to explain? Why did you feel the need to put an ocean between us?"
"I don't know," she groaned in frustration and looked away. "I know that sounds terrible, but it's the truth. I don't know what I was thinking. I wasn't thinking clearly. I was confused. Upset. Angry at you for ditching me at the altar."
"I didn't ditch you at the altar. You didn't want to marry me in the first place. I stopped my Father from playing God, from making us get married in his place, and from getting his way. You told me that I needed to stand up to him, and I did. I thought that was what you wanted."
"I know that," she said, finally looking back at me. "I know that now. But at the time, it hurt. Regardless of the circumstances, I was still a bride that got jilted at the altar in front of 400 people and photographers. I felt pathetic. I felt like I was in some sad Julia Roberts movie. I was standing there, ready to… agreeing to… well, I was wrong. My actions were wrong. And I want to apologize. I came here to apologize."
"Don't," I commanded, temper dancing in my tone, "don't do that."
"Eric, I can apologize if I want to." The fire returned to her eyes. Good. I could handle fire much easier than I could handle the pain that had been there before.
"I don't want your damn apology." I stood up and walked around the desk, leaning back against it when I was directly in front of her.
"You're getting one, so deal with it," she said, an edge of frustration in her voice. "I was angry because I didn't know what I wanted from you, and I didn't understand why you calling it all off made me mad."
"And you understand that now, do you?" I asked, trying to control my sarcasm.
"As a matter of fact, I do."
"Care to enlighten me?"
She stood up and took a step forward, our faces inches apart.
"Sure, why not Mr. Know-it-all?" she sneered. "I reacted like that because I love you, you stupid idiot."
What? I felt my jaw drop as I watched her. Had she just told me that she loved me? Had I heard her right? Before I could process anything, she continued.
"I knew that I liked being with you, well more than liked. You made me feel like no one else has ever made me feel. Everything was easy with you. You protected me, cared for me. I could be myself around you."
"Wait, go back," I interjected. "Did you just say you loved me?" I wanted to hear her say it again.
She didn't. She rolled her eyes at me and continued. "Yes, none of that would have happened if I wasn't in Sweden with you and your crazy ass family, but that is not the point. I was comfortable with you."
"And that's bad?" I interrupted.
"Let me finish," she said tersely. "I was swept away by the whole thing. And when you stopped the wedding, I thought you were stopping us. We were only together because I was pretending to be engaged to you –"
"Sookie, you know that's not true. You know I wanted you before any of this happened." There was no way she could she be so blind, was there? I had wanted her from the first day I saw her, from the minute I had heard her voice say my name. Fuck, I'd told her as much. She had to have known.
She shrugged. "I didn't say it was rational, but when have relationships ever been rational? I knew you thought I was attractive, that you wanted to have sex with me. And we did. We had great sex; fantastic sex; mind blowing sex, even. But we'd never talked about the future, about what would happen once we got back, and I figured that you calling off the wedding meant that you were ready to be done."
"Sookie," I shook my head. "The time we spent together. The way we were together, the way we couldn't keep our hands off of each other… how could you doubt that?"
"I don't know. I got scared, and I ran. It's what I do."
"Sookie. I was going to marry you. I wouldn't do that with someone I had no regard for."
"But you didn't. You stopped it."
"For you." I ran a hand through my hair and massaged the tension in my neck. "I stopped it because I didn't want you to resent me. I knew you didn't want to get married like that."
What a fucking disaster.
"I know that now. I knew that when I was sitting on the plane wearing my wedding dress as I flew across the Atlantic."
"Then why in the hell did it take you thirteen days to come to me?" Thirteen days lost because we were both too fucking stubborn to face each other.
"I was afraid. I was afraid that I would come to you and you would turn me away. That maybe I was right and that you would have moved on."
"That's absurd."
"Eric. I'm not used to this," she waved her hand back and forth between us. "This is new to me. I have dated two other people in my entire life. One of them cheated on me, and the other… well, he wasn't much better. You're the one with a womanizing past. Hell, Britney Spears sang a song about guys like you. I figured you'd get over me and move on. It wasn't until Pam told me that you were moping around like a teenager that I thought I'd have a chance to – "
"She told you what?" I demanded. I was going to kill her. I was going to rip her limb from limb for interfering yet again. When would she learn that mind her own business?
"Oh hush," she said, laying a hand on my chest. Her simple touch sent electricity shooting through my body. "She was just trying to help. She saw how miserable I was and told me that I needed to do something about it since you weren't going to 'get off your stubborn ass' and talk to me."
I clasped my hand over hers, not willing to lose contact again. She looked down at our joined hands and back up at me. "You make me so dizzy. Just being next to you makes me crazy," she whispered. "I can't think of all the things I want to say. I practiced in the rearview mirror three times before I even got the nerve to come into your club, and it's all gone."
I chuckled at the thought of her practicing her speech and wondered if she wrote it down. "You practiced?"
"Yep," she said with a nod. "I didn't want to come in here without any ammunition. You know how to twist me up with words and I wanted to be prepared."
"Oh yeah?" I asked, tugging at her hand until she was standing in front of me, firmly lodged between my legs, our faces so close that our breath mingled.
"Yeah," she whispered.
"Am I twisting you all up now, lover?" I taunted. "Making you dizzy? I'd hate for you to faint again. It didn't turn out very well for me last time."
"Oh shut up Eric!" she snapped at me, but I saw the laughter in her eyes. "I should've known better than to-" I silenced her by capturing her mouth. I couldn't wait anymore.
After a long minute, she pulled away and rested her forehead on mine. "Eric, we can't go back and-"
"Of course not. We can go forward. We can hit the reset button and start over. Forget that we pretended to be engaged. Forget that we almost got married thanks to my meddling Father who, by the way, I told I never wanted to see again."
"You did?" she exclaimed.
"I did. But that's not the main point Sookie. These past two weeks have been hell. I tried to get over you, tried to pretend I didn't care, but I do. I tried to look at other girls, but I don't want anyone else. I want you, Sookie Stackhouse."
"I want you too, Eric Northman," she said with a smile, and wrapped her arms tightly around my neck.
"I know," I said, leaning forward to brush a light kiss across her lips. "You loooovvvveee me."
She slapped at me playfully. "Of course you're going to use that against me."
"Never." I shook my head. "Why don't you tell me how much you missed me?"
"I missed you so much," she said dramatically. "I couldn't sleep, couldn't eat until I knew you were mine again. I missed your face, your hair, the way your pinky toe sticks out funny. I missed all of you!" She punctuated her declaration by putting her hand on her forehead, as if she was going to faint.
"All of me, eh?" I said, standing up to press my length against hers, showing her exactly how much of me was eager to be hers.
"Yes sir," she giggled.
"Well, Miss Stackhouse, I am at your disposal."
I picked her up and carried her over to the leather couch, depositing her and placing a kiss on her forehead before turning around and walking towards the door. With one flick of my wrist, I locked the door to keep out any unwanted intruders. If nothing else, I'd mastered the art of the lock. No one, and I mean no one, would be interrupting us tonight.
I turned back to face Sookie and found her playing with a stray curl that had fallen over her shoulder, reminding me so much of that first night she'd been here. It had been under different circumstances, but my desire for her hadn't diminished.
I kicked out of my shoes before joining her on the couch. This was one fantasy I was ready to check off my list. I reached out and pushed the stray tendril of hair out of her hands, my fingers resting lightly on her shoulder before tracing along the strap of her dress.
She giggled as I continued down the V of the neck. It wasn't as low cut as her Bianca Maria costume had been, but it would do. I stopped as my hand reached the top of her breast, looking at her for the go ahead as I had on that first night. "I remember how much I wanted you that night. How I wanted to do just this."
"Oh?" she asked breathlessly. I leaned down and nuzzled her bare neck with my face, teasing her sensitive skin with my breath.
"You still smell like sunshine."
She let out a sigh and pulled my face up to meet hers, much as she had done that first night. I set about showing her exactly how much I wanted her now, reminding her exactly how much I'd wanted her then. It hadn't stopped, it hadn't lessened. If anything, I needed her more than ever.
And there was no way any knock on the door would stop me this time.
AN: That's it lovelies! They're happy, not being manipulated, and together of their own volition. And PMR, he mastered the lock… the legacy has been passed down!
If you're interested in hearing more about the dynamic duo, make sure to check out Northman's Still Off the Market: The Outtakes, linked in my profile.