I wish I could see her reaction.
I’m not surprised when she leaves the message on read without replying back.
14
Rylee
I wake up early after only getting a few hours of sleep, too busy picking at my nails and skin like I’ve done ever since I was little when anxiety got the better of me. Not even the pretty view I’d gotten up to look at could sooth the jitters that submitting my piece to Sarina has caused.
Her expression was unimpressed after skimming the article, and I had to remember what Garrick told me before I left. “Don’t let her walk all over you. You’re stronger than you think.”
When Sarina asked how she was supposed to publish a piece without a name attached to the “supposed bride” of Garrick Matthews, I pointed out that the L.A. Free Press readership would double because everyone would be waiting for more answers to be reported. Her bosses would see the spike in online views and work toward the next follow-up to triple the attention. With the right connections and dollar amount, anyone could sway someone at the courthouse to talk, and for an even bigger buck, see the marriage certificate firsthand.
But that person wouldn’t be me, and I’m dreading the countless people who would happily hand over money to see the information that’s bound to make headlines everywhere.
I’d walked out of her office and couldn’t help but smile to myself because of how much lighter I felt knowing I’d be done as soon as I got paid. No more judgmental looks from her or heavy guilt from the stories I chased after. Garrick was right, I’d be happier without the responsibility this job forces me to take on.
When I’d gotten back to the house, I followed the scent of popcorn to the den where I saw my favorite childhood movie paused on the TV screen. Garrick was stretched out on the couch with a grin on his face as he said, “Figured we’d celebrate your big day with your favorite movie.”
The look of confusion on my face must have been enough to make him add, “I overheard you tell my brother that it was the best Disney movie ever made because she fought for everyone else selflessly.”
I told Chase that after he tried insisting that Elsa was the superior childhood princess, but I didn’t know Garrick was even listening to our banter. It was over breakfast, and he was on the phone with someone on his team across the room cancelling more interviews like he did Hot in Hollywood. That hadn’t gone over well with whoever was on the other end.
Before Garrick had hit PLAY, he reached out and played with a strand of my hair before he’d added, “It’s funny. He usually prefers brunettes. I’m usually the one with a thing for blondes.”
It was nice to spend time watching nostalgic classics, comfortably quiet with no expectations attached. We asked each other random questions, like what the best kind of movie snack is—I said popcorn, he said sour gummy worms. Or if I preferred movies over books—which I do, though he admitted he likes books better because his mother got him into reading at a young age. When I told him that I didn’t have a big sweet tooth, he’d asked for a divorce, and when he admitted he’d never read or watched Harry Potter, I suggested couples therapy.
Chase had seen us, shook his head, and walked upstairs to his room, not coming back down until I’d decided to go to bed.
I’m not naïve enough to believe I can live my life the same way I did before—that ended the second Garrick and I stepped out of that courthouse. But the little moments shared between us in private, binge-watching old childhood movies, bickering about which ones are underrated or overrated, and teasing each other about the icebreaking reasons we’d end this marriage before it even began, is the type of distraction I need to stay sane.
To believe it’ll be okay.
But the lack of sleep after getting the article okay-d by Sarina is bound to be only the first of many sleepless nights. I texted Moffie saying it was a matter of time before my name was everywhere, and then left a vague voice message on my parents’ answering machine telling them they may hear things and that I’d explain when I could.
They called, I said everything was fine, then chickened out saying I had to go. My phone has been off since.
With a thin blanket wrapped around me, I walk over to the balcony doors to see a few joggers out like they are every morning, and vehicles come and go from neighboring houses. It’s strange to be surrounded by obvious money, and it’s become a game to guess how much each house and expensive car is worth and who lives where. I’m certain I saw Mia Casanova leave one of the houses yesterday with a small toddler beside her.
I remember being assigned to the reality star shortly after the Zayne article hit. Sarina wanted the Free Press to break news on the cheating scandal surrounding her and her now husband Dylan first, but I didn’t want to touch it. I’d still been sick to my stomach after spending the money I’d gotten to hurt the Violet Wonders drummer. He’d been kind to me, and I didn’t give him the same curtesy. Nobody besides Garrick and Moffie know that, and I can’t imagine what my parents will say if they ever found out. It’s one thing to admit I got married on a whim to a famous singer, and another to admit why.
Absentmindedly, my thumb grazes my naked ring finger where the diamond Garrick gave me days ago should be. I look down, flatten my hands to
