“Of course not. Do you know how jealous he’d be if he did know?” She scoffs. It’s a high-pitched noise made out of annoyance. Rubbing her hands together, she says, “I can just see his face when I tell him where I’ve been. He’ll pretend to be mad, but then he’ll ask me questions. Not because he’s curious, but because he’s addicted to you, and like a junkie, he wants any piece of you he can get. I’m not an idiot.”
“Why do you stay? If you know…then why?” My mouth is dry. “You’re not an idiot, Megan.”
She motions to her face and body. “Look at me. Even if I didn’t look like a burn victim poster child, my heart has always belonged to him. When he came to me and told me he remembered, I thought it would go back to the way it was before. You have to understand because youknow him—I had to give it another chance. He’s been my love for my whole life. That’s not something you let go of easily. You fight for the important things in life. Giving him another chance was my weak attempt at fighting for us. I didn’t anticipate one thing.”
“What?”
“That what he feels for you doesn’t even touch what he felt for me at the height of our love.” Her eyes turn down in the corner, and she covers her mouth to hide a sob. “Competing is exhausting. We have years of memories, and your months with him are enough to take me out completely. He lies to protect my feelings. He doesn’t think I know. I’m not sure how he can be so oblivious. He’s pining. He’s broken.”
I brush away a tear with my pointer finger. The news in the background barks out a warning about the militia staging a protest in DC. They have guns and signs. I take in a breath. I can’t focus. “What do you want me to do? I’ve moved on. I’m done. He made his choice.”
“You don’t love him?” she asks. “Tell him then. In person. That you don’t love him.”
I close my eyes to try to block out the background noise. I can’t understand what she wants, and the things she’s saying are confusing me beyond belief. Megan presses her lips together in a firm line. It reminds me of Smith. The way one half of his face is perfect and the other half is marred by scars. Megan’s face looks different than his, but it has the same feeling. Beautifuldestruction.
“The meeting. You want me to go,” I say. This has to be why she began the conversation with it. When she sniffles and then nods, I go on. “He won’t believe me.”
“Because you do love him.”
It’s my turn. “It doesn’t go away. I will tell him I don’t love him. That he needs to move on with his life, but you need to plan for this to go badly. The last time I saw him…” I explain, trailing off. I didn’t mean to go this far, but now that I’m here, I might as well be honest. “He said a lot of things.”
“Oh, god. I knew it. How am I supposed to get over him again?”
When I do, I’ll let you know,I think.
“Don’t. Live with it. I’m done. I’ll contact my attorney and let him know I’ll be there. It’s to sign the final paperwork for the book and movie options and his percentage shares. If he approaches me, I’ll tell him anything you want me to.”
“Thank you,” she whispers. “It won’t be enough. That’s my fear.” She is so self-conscious it’s hard to be around her. The way she fidgets and looks down. It reminds me of the woman I used to be. That’s the real reason I want to get out of here as quickly as possible. That, and this new information about how sad Smith is. I think deep down every woman wants to know her ex is miserable after a breakup. They say nice things such as wishes for their happiness, but it’s a surface truth. Because if their ex is happy, then something must befundamentally wrong with them and how they conduct their relationships. Humans are selfish to the core.
“This is hard. It’s hard for everyone involved, but you have options. You’re beautiful despite what you see in the mirror. You are the same person. You have so much going for you that any man would be lucky to have you. Smith has to see that.”
She shakes her head. “I have to go. I’m glad to see you doing so well,” she says.
I look down at my sweat-soaked workout gear and smirk at her, raising one brow. “Thanks, I think. Sometimes you have to ask questions. Even hard ones,” I explain. “It goes along with the communication clause, you know?”
I hope she knows what I mean. If things are as bad as she says they are, nothing is saving their relationship. After she leaves, I call my attorney and schedule the meeting for the soonest available. The thought of seeing Smith sends butterflies to my stomach, and my core clenches. I wonder how long he’ll have this hold on me.
“Forever,” I whisper.
Opening my laptop, I write a scene between my characters. They fight and yell, and then they make love. For a moment, I feel better.
I’m shaking. The office is cold and smells like fresh donuts. My attorney, the fat bald guy who Jaz uses to vetall my contracts, is sitting at the head of the table, prattling on about how awesome it is that we had so many high-priced offers for the novel. I’m also shaking because Jasmine mailed Smith a copy of the book last week. He’s read it.
He’s read my words. My scary, heartrending words. His stories, but my words swirled with fiction in a love story so tragic and beautiful that Hollywood has never seen the likes of. Obviously, hence the reason we’re here to begin with.
Jasmine presses her hand in mine. “You look beautiful, Care,” she says, her lips whispering close to my ear. The blinds are open, letting in enough sunlight to brighten the room. With a shaky hand, I sip my coffee. “No more coffee or you’re going to buzz right out of here,” Jasmine chides.
I slide the cup away from me.
“You’re right,” I reply, checking my watch. “He should be here any moment. Do you think he’s going to be mad?” I look at my friend, eyes wide and terror transforming my whole demeanor.
She shakes her head. “He was always going to read it. He had to. Remember in the beginning when you started this whole crazy project? You wanted to help people. You wanted to write a story that would mean something to someone. He’s that someone you have the most chance of impacting. The whole world is going to read this story, and you need to get used to that fact. Smith is just one of the firsts.”
My heart pounds, and the palms of my hands sweatwith unease and uncertainty. Moose walks in with the same terrified look on his face. “Thank God! Finally! I thought you weren’t going to show,” I say. Standing, I leap into his arms to hug him. “They’ll be here any minute. Are you ready for this?”
“Hi to you too, Carina. You’re insane if you think this is a good idea. I almost didn’t come in. I circled the parking lot fifteen times while saying aloud every reason this was going to end badly.” Today he has more to lose than I do.
I swallow hard. “This is the last chance, Moose. And no one will think it’s odd you’re here. Your character is a huge part in the story, remember? Isn’t part of your job description to go with the flow? Form a plan while a horrendous situation is unfolding?”
