The days that passed were quiet. You spent most of your time at Elvis's side, making sure he was drinking enough water, taking the recommended vitamins the local doctor had advised, and generally keeping him happy. Thankfully, within a few days he had been feeling more like himself. He had finally started coming downstairs, saying that being on bedrest made him restless and anxious.

The two of you have taken to hiking around the estate together, taking in the warm Tennessee air. 

Today, Elvis and you decide to walk to grounds of Graceland, Elvis pointing out certain landmarks and making funny anecdotes here and there.

It's a beautiful piece of land, far enough away from the city to feel secluded, safe. It reminds you of the rolling estate you had grown up on, your father's law practice providing your family with a plush lifestyle. You and Kerry had grown up riding horseback, wandering the countryside of upstate New York. 

That was before things went sour, before the true nature of your father's business had gone public. You shake your head, not wanting to think of those things in such a beautiful place. This was your life now, the man of your dreams by your side. 

You hold Elvis's hand, eyes sparkling in the sun as you take in the rolling front yard. The grass is a brilliant green, muffling your footsteps as the two of you walk together.

Elvis brushes his thumb against the back of your hand.

"I think I wanna start acting again."

You look up at him.

"Yeah?" You ask. He nods, staring at some point in the distance. This had come out of nowhere, Elvis having been so focused on touring that movies didn't seem to hold much weight to him anymore.

"I think I can do a lot better without the Colonel in the picture," Elvis continues. "Maybe a drama, something serious for once."

He smirks, looking around at you.

"No more of those bullshit musicals."

You laugh.

"Tired of clowning around on the big screen?"

Elvis shakes his head, chuckling.

"Tired of making a damn fool of myself, that's for sure."

You squeeze his hand.

"I think you'll make a great leading man, Elvis. Better than James Dean."

Elvis glances at you, cheeks a little pink. You feel a sense of pride at making the King blush.

He leans down to kiss you, soft and quick.

"With you by my side, darlin', I could do anything."

"If you can dream it you can do it, baby." You tell him, hand on his chest. He kisses you once more, the birds singing behind you.

*

*

*

Later that evening you're standing at the kitchen sink helping Elvis's cook, Mary, clean up after dinner. You're in the middle of scrubbing a pan when the phone in the kitchen rings, and you take off a rubber glove to answer it.

"Hello?"

"Hello! This is Shelia, I heard that Elvis was sick and just wanted to check in and make sure everything is okay." 

You bristle a little at the name. 

Shelia. 

"He's been doing much better," You say, trying to remain polite. Jealousy is not a good look at you, and besides, Shelia was supposedly Jerry's old girlfriend. You feel a little silly, childish for being so harsh on a woman you don't even know.

"Thank you for asking." You tell her, genuinely meaning it. 

"Of course! You know, I still feel bad about how we ended things, could you let him know I called and that I'm thinking of him?"

You furrow your brow.

"Jerry?" You ask, certain that's who Shelia means.

The other woman laughs airily over the phone.

"No, Elvis!"

Your heart sinks to your stomach.

"Just tell him there's no hard feelings, what happened last May is all water under the bridge."

You feel like slamming the phone back on the hook. You've gone stiff, and Mary must have noticed because she stands beside you with a look of concern on her kind face. 

"Sure," You say, emotionless. "I'll let him know."

You hang up the phone.

Last May. What had happened last May?

You begin to connect the dots, a terrible picture painting itself before you. 

Last May you were in Texas with Candice. You had started dating Elvis that month, your relationship going public very fast. If you had the dates correct, then Elvis must have still been seeing this Shelia in the early stages of your relationship.

"You alright, dear?" Mary asks, and you snap out of your thoughts.

You turn, offering the short woman a brisk smile that doesn't reach your eyes.

"I'm just fine, Mary." You tell her. 

You take the other glove off, setting the pair on the counter a little harder than you mean to. 

You walk to the bottom of the stair case, sending her one last tight lipped smile as you take a step foreword.

"I just need to have a quick word with my boyfriend.''

With that, you bound up the stairs, leaving a confused and concerned Mary behind in the kitchen.