“Your knee. It’s hurting?”
A crease spreads across his forehead. “Just a little. I’m fine.”
“It was fine earlier.”
He blinks, a thought skating through his head as he runs his hand through his hair. Egg shells. That’s what’s happening here. He doesn’t know what he can say around me anymore. I even ruined our words.
“Tell me the truth. What happened to your knee?” I demand.
He still hesitates, and I narrow my eyes at him.
“I pushed myself too hard this afternoon,” he says finally, meeting my gaze. “After I left here.”
His words drop like an anvil. I knew it. This is my fault. I did this to him. But he doesn’t say that. He never will because he’s good, and I’m broken.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper.
“For what?”
“For hurting your knee.”
His eyes change at my confession, hardening. “You didn’t hurt my knee. I hurt my knee.”
“Yeah, but you wouldn’t have hurt yourself if I hadn’t hurt you first.”
“What?” He looks genuinely confused. “What are you talking about?”
I shake my head and force a dry laugh. This is going all wrong. I wanted a friend, not another fight. “Never mind. You’re right.”
That only seems to anger him more. I see his fist tighten at his side. “Don’t. Not never mind. What did you mean by that?”
I sigh and cross my arms. My fingers dig into my biceps to block the emotion. “Nothing. Just that, if I hadn’t been a bitch this afternoon, you wouldn’t have gotten mad and had to blow off steam. So really, it’s my fault. Because I’m selfish and stupid and I didn’t even call security so you could get in after asking you to meet me. I’m…” Somewhere along the line, pinching my skin wasn’t enough. The tears broke free, building in my throat. I clear them away, shaking my head to clear that too. But I only seem to jar them further into my vocal cords. A few surge higher, bursting all the way to my eyes. I blink rapidly to stop them. “Anyway, I’m sorry. I’m just sorry for...”
“For what?”
“For being what I am.”
“What’s that? Selfish and stupid?” he echoes, his voice strangely hard and emotionless at the same time.
I nod. “Among other things.”
He stares at me for a moment, and I shrink beneath his perusal. Not because of him, because of me. Because he’s looking for something he won’t find. Because blind faith leads to lucid doubt and he’s about to discover everything that’s missing beneath the glossy covering that attracted his attention for a fleeting moment.
She’s no one. Run!
“What else are you, Genevieve?” he asks in a low voice, almost angry.
I glance at him in surprise. He’s not letting this go? Apologies are supposed to fix things. Smiles. Laughs. A flutter of thick, mascara-laced eyelashes. All those tricks just seemed to upset him more.
“What am I? I’m…” There’s no answer to that question. There are too many answers to that question.
“You said you’re selfish and stupid. What else are you? What were you thinking about when you called me crying from the bathroom today? What were you thinking about just now when you made that statement?”
I swallow the rise of old shadows, the darkness that comes screaming back. “I…”
Gray settles over my vision again.
He glances at the mirror, visibly stiffening when he sees I covered it after he left. I needed to breathe, though. He has to understand that sometimes you just need a full lung of air.
“You’re what?”
“No one.”
“What else?”
Tears spring to my eyes. Ugly. Inside. Where no one sees. A fraud.
“An imposter.” The words come out broken and charred, but he doesn’t react. Just keeps staring, waiting for the rest. Braced like he’s about to be plowed over by a massive defenseman with the puck. Like maybe I could shatter his other knee.
“What else?” His slightly softer tone only makes the tears fall harder.
“Ugly.”
Something flickers in his eyes, but he holds his ground. “What else?”
“Talentless.” Oh god. I didn’t even know that one was there. I’m full-on crying now. I wipe at my eyes, but new tears rush in to replace the old ones. I don’t know how to make them stop anymore. Why can’t he just accept the truth and let it go? Let me go?
“I’m no one, Oliver. Don’t you see that?” My voice is cracked, my words barely audible as they tumble out for the first time in my life. “They created me. I was sculpted and molded to be Genevieve Fox since the day I was born. A child star, a teen idol, a pop icon—but it’s all what they made me. I don’t even know who I am. I’m nothing because I’m just a mirage. I’m…” I stagger a bit, hardly able to lift my gaze to his at the weight of the truth pressing down on me for twenty-two years. “I’m no one because I’m just a shell. I’m completely empty inside.”
And I crack.
Oliver rushes forward to catch me as I dissolve, pulling me into his arms and rocking me gently to the rhythm of his steady breaths. The girl of steel, who’s held up an empire for most of her life, shatters in a lonely bedroom. Except I’m not alone. I should be, but instead of collapsing into oblivion, I’m being held against a pillar of muscle and fortitude that refuses to back away from a fight. He’s fearless as he holds on. Fearless as he confronts the darkness that was none of his business until he chose to defy it.
I don’t know when we started moving, but soon we find ourselves near my vanity. I feel the chill of our separation when he reaches over to yank the sheet off the mirror. Still supporting me with
