She’s observant at least. Makes her a great actress. “Yeah, I’m good. Just had a rough week.”
Nodding, she rubs her lips together. “Hey, I’ve been meaning to ask you for Stevie’s number. When she comes back to town, I was thinking we could meet up for coffee or lunch.” A chuckle slips out. “Weird, maybe, since I’m kind of her alter ego. Do you think she’d be up for it?”
I blink at her as the question registers and my heartache plows through me like a bulldozer. “Oh…uh, sorry. Not sure when she’s coming back.”
A frown. “An extended Thanksgiving or something?”
Is it almost Thanksgiving?
I don’t even fucking know.
My throat scrapes with sand and grit. “No. She moved back. Permanently.” I glance away. “I’m not ready to talk about it yet, so that stays between us.”
Willa stares at me, her eyes flaring when awareness dawns.
I begin to walk away, knowing I don’t have the strength to harness my acting abilities today, and I’m a blink away from crumbling into dry, old paint. With asbestos. “I’ll tell her though. She’ll appreciate the thought.”
“Wait, what?” I’ve hardly moved a foot before Willa charges at me, trying to catch up in her high heels and floral skirt. “What do you mean permanently? The breakup rumors are true?”
I close my eyes, blowing out a toxic breath. “Yeah. Something like that.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means I’m no good for her, and she’s better off in Chicago.”
Shit.
I gave her too much, too much to dig into.
“Really.” She squints at me, still reading, trying to pull my threadbare pieces apart. “That’s strange. I saw you two at that party not long ago, and it looked like you were perfect together.”
I sigh, peering down at the floor. “Things change. Look, I need to—”
“I’ll rephrase.” Willa pushes her tongue against her cheek. “I saw you at the party, but I’ve also seen the photographs, the appearances, the interviews. Your chemistry is electric,” she says, her eyes digging into my cracks, deepening the fissures. “I mean, I know you’re a brilliant actor, Lex, but I also know that some things are more than just performance. And I’ve seen the way you look at her—like she’s literally everything.”
Planting my hands on my hips, I try to ignore the tiny pinholes pricking my chest. “I appreciate the TED Talk, but you’ve only gotten glimpses. There’s a bigger picture.”
“I’m staring at the bigger picture right now. You look sick. Completely wrecked.” She pauses, her gaze skimming my face. “Haveyoulooked at it?”
My jaw ticks. “You sound like my therapist.”
“I actually went to school for psychology before the acting dream took over. Got my master’s degree and everything.”
Well then.
I knew she was older than me, but I didn’t know that.
My hands slide into my pockets as I tap my foot, looking around for the nearest bathroom I can lock myself in until the churning nausea passes. “Thanks for the insight, but I gotta go.”
I try to walk away again, but she stops me.
Again.
“Come what may, right?”
My heart staggers. Teeters on a knife-edge.
Freezing in place, I clench my hands and stare at the endless hallway in front of me.
