Pressing my lips together as the latest wave of pain and nausea passes, I push myself away from my wall and go to the window. Fuck’s sake, why am I so fucking broken?
His car is no longer there.
Will he go back to LA now?
Maybe it’s not too late to get that new movie. He could call Denny.
Or I could.
I wipe my tears and slide the phone out of my pocket to find the message.
Spencer was replying to his checking in text when his phone died. Now I have Denny’s number. He’ll probably be pissed that I interfered, but he deserves this movie. In the end, when he’s back in LA being adored, he’ll thank me for this.
Indie: Hi, Denny. Indie here. Spencer’s circumstances have changed so I hope it’s not too late for End of the Road. Please keep this between us.
I bite my lip as a tear rolls down my cheek. Writing the text feels like the end. He’ll leave, heal, and eventually we’ll just be a great memory. I hit send.
Go get ‘em, Hollywood.
I slump down on my bed and curl into a ball. Fisting the quilt, I bury my head in the pillow and sob.
It begins to darken outside. I lay still in bed as if I’ll miraculously stop hurting if I don’t move. Losing Mum and Dad was awful, but nothing compares to this. Every breath is a struggle.
I don’t want to do anything, not even uni work, and I really do need to catch up. I just can’t bring myself to care. Uni seems pointless. My parents are dead, anyway. I have nothing to run from anymore.
I breath in, deep and ragged. My eyes are sore from crying. I have no problem shedding tears over Spencer.
Because he is everything.
I roll onto my side when I hear a knocking on my door.
My heart leaps, and I scramble out of bed.
He’s back.
I want to run to the door and ignore it at the same time.
Wiping my eyes, I walk downstairs with my heart fluttering.
When I open that door and see him, how am I supposed to not jump into his arms. That’s the point.
My breath catches when I open the door.
Oh.
Mila smiles. “What have you done, babe?”
My shoulders slump.
“Can we come in?” Wren asks.
I nod. “He called you?”
Mila walks in the house. “Of course, he did. He’s broken, and doesn’t know what to do.”
“I had no choice.”
Wren gives me a hug. “What happened? Things were good between you, or so I thought.”
They follow me into the living room. I don’t even care about being in here now. I sit on the sofa, and Wren closes the blinds.
“Indie?” Mila prompts, sitting next to me.
Wren takes a seat opposite, on Dad’s side of the room.
“I’m not cut out to live in his world. I’m a private person, and eventually he’d get bored of constantly protecting me.” He’s taken so many calls recently, fighting fires to protect me. I shake my head and curl my arms around my legs. “That’s not fair on him. He’s worked so hard to get where he is. He should be able to enjoy it.”
“You think he’ll be able to enjoy it at all without you?” Wren asks.
“Eventually, yes. He gave up a movie he really wanted because I was falling apart. He’ll keep doing that… said himself that he’d quit altogether if I don’t want to be in the spotlight. How could I ever let him do that?”
Mila’s shoulder fall. She came here to fight his corner, but she knows I’m right.
When you love someone more than anything in the world, you don’t let them give up their dream.
“I couldn’t handle knowing I’d taken something so important away from him.”
“Indie, you’ve taken you away from him. That’s way worse,” Mila says.
Wren and I both look at her.
“Sorry, I’ll go with tough love if I have to. I’m not saying I don’t understand where you’re coming from, but this isn’t the answer. Have you even asked if he minds taking care of your privacy? I bet the answer is no. Sure, he’s going to be watched, so fighting that is going to be part of it, whether you’re with him or not. There’ll be moments in his life he wants to keep private, too.”
“She’s making sense, Indie.”
“That doesn’t matter. Maybe he wouldn’t end up resenting me every time he has to stop a media shitstorm, but I don’t want to constantly see myself splashed all over social media.”
Mila sighs. “Okay. Whatever you decide, we’ll support it.”
“Why do I feel like there’s a but?”
“Oh, there’s a big one. I’ve seen you with him. I can’t wrap my head around the privacy stuff outweighing being with him.”
Fuck. I close my eyes against the wave of pain. This one is more like a fucking tsunami, but whatever.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you, Indie. I’m trying to make sense of it.”
“What Mila is failing to articulate is that we’re worried you’re doing this for the wrong reasons and you’ll end up miserable.”
Mila mutters, “Articulate,” under her breath.
“I’ll be all right.”
I don’t believe my own words—they’re bull. Nothing will be the same. Spencer has been the centre of my everything since we were eleven. My life will be cold and colourless without him. But he won’t have to compromise so heavily.
“Will you, though?” Mila asks. “You look like you’re struggling to breathe.”
I crumple, tightening my arms around myself and dropping my head to my knees.
Mila wraps her arm around me, and the sofa dips the other side of me as Wren does the same.
I’ve never been very good at showing emotions to people, but I let my best friends comfort me as I try not to fall to a thousand tiny pieces.
Fifty-Four
Spencer
I stand at my hotel room window and watch the grey clouds in the sky over London. If the weather is trying to match my mood, it’s succeeding. I hate being here
