When Stars Fall

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When Stars Fall Page 9

by Wendy Million


  She takes in my appearance while she sips her water and then sits down in one of the armchairs. “Are you okay? How’d it go with Wyatt?”

  I shake my head, unable to formulate a coherent sentence. “It’s dumb to even consider a second chance with him, right?”

  Her sharp intake of breath is audible in the quiet room. “Wow. Already?” She sets her glass on the coffee table in front of her.

  “I don’t know. I don’t know. I don’t know.” I gather my hair into a ponytail and let it fall, over and over. “It makes no sense. I don’t know him anymore. In typical Wyatt fashion, he has no idea how we’d make it work with our different lifestyles. No plan, none,” I say. “It’s been ten years. Ten years. How can anyone still be in love with someone when they haven’t shared a room in ten years?”

  “I realized you still had feelings.” Nikki moves to sit beside me on the couch. “You organized your life to avoid him, so it was clear there was something to avoid. But I started viewing the distance as more for Haven’s sake than because you couldn’t handle seeing him.”

  “If it makes you feel any better, I convinced myself it was because of Haven too.” Out of the corner of my eye, I see her thoughtful frown matches mine.

  “He’s still the same charming guy he was before. But that’s not all he was before. Remember that.”

  I close my eyes and press the heels of my hands into my forehead.

  “There are very real reasons why he isn’t parenting Haven.”

  Behind my eyes, a headache builds. “What if he’s clean?”

  “What if he’s not? How do you know? You’ve spent ten years getting him out of your system, raising your daughter, trying to keep her away from his lifestyle, those risks. If you’re not certain, you’re undoing everything for nothing.”

  “He seems different. More grounded, less Hollywood.”

  “Seemed pretty Hollywood at the hospital today.”

  “Yeah, well, he can’t help turning on the charm when someone doesn’t like him. It’s an instinct.”

  “Haven likes him just fine.”

  I give her the side-eye.

  “Oh, you mean me. I’m not that obvious.”

  “You are. You really are.” I sigh.

  For almost my entire relationship with Wyatt, he and my sister got along very well. Now I’m not sure she dislikes him so much as she doesn’t trust him and his poor decisions. We’ve watched the YouTube videos and the interviews that went sideways, knocked over by one stimulant too many. When I was with him, his issues seemed subtle, hard to see. Once I left, every time I caught a glimpse of him on TV or the internet, all I saw were the ravings of an addict.

  “What are you going to do?” Nikki picks up her drink.

  “Spend time with him for the next five days?” It’s a terrible plan, cracking open a Pandora’s box. But sending him away without knowing whether he’s telling the truth is vindictive. My goal has been to protect Haven, not to punish Wyatt.

  She nods. “Yeah, that seems like a great way to get him out of your system. A great idea.”

  “He’s Haven’s dad. She wants to know him.” The more I say it, perhaps the more likely I am to believe she’s the only reason I want him to stay. “If he knew about her . . .” My voice thickens, and I suck in a deep, unsteady breath. “He’d want to spend time with her too.”

  Nikki rubs my leg. “You haven’t told him for a reason. You want reasons? Go on YouTube. There are more reasons to keep him away than to let him get close. Charming and good-looking and rich and famous don’t make someone a good father.”

  “Once I tell him, I can’t ever take it back.”

  Of course, he might never forgive me for not telling him in the first place or not confessing the truth as soon as he arrived at my house or when he showed up at the hospital or any other time since he reappeared. “If he relapses, the reasons I didn’t tell him for ten years are validated, but Haven’s protection goes up in smoke.”

  “Are you going to talk to Mom and Dad?”

  “No,” I say. “They’ll call me nuts for even considering it. Like you. I don’t need more of that.”

  Nikki sips her water for a few minutes. “Does he remember you went to see him when Haven was a baby?”

  “No. I didn’t expect him to. Maybe I hoped he would, but I didn’t expect it.” I rub my forehead. “Deep down, I knew he’d come if he remembered. He was very high and very drunk. The exact opposite of what I needed in my life, in her life.” I’d done what I set out to do and told him we had a daughter. The fact I said it has always made me, at least inside, more self-righteous in my choice. If he wasn’t so out of it, he would have known.

  “She’s your daughter, but for ten years I’ve functioned as her other parent. When you’re on a film set or doing promotion, I’ve been the parent. Telling Wyatt might be your choice, but I feel like I should get a say. I’ve been doing his job for ten years.”

  I stare at the blank TV screen, absorbing her words. “I’m sorry I’ve put you in that position.”

  “I volunteered. Did I really understand what I was suggesting back then? No.” She lets out a disbelieving chuckle. “Not a clue. But I don’t regret being Haven’s other parent, being your support system. She’s a joy, Ellie. I don’t want to see that joy dimmed by a man who can’t keep himself together.”

  My sister has sacrificed relationships and freedoms she would have had if she hadn’t agreed to our parenthood ruse. Even here at home, there are probably people who aren’t completely sure whether Haven is Nikki’s daughter or mine. When I returned from seeing Wyatt and reached out for help, my sister answered in a big way. She does deserve some input into Haven’s life. She’s earned it.

  “I understand the risks Wyatt poses if he’s still using. I lived it. Those memories are easy to access. What I don’t understand is whether he’s truly better, whether he’d want to be her father if I gave him a chance.”

  “Maybe this Wyatt deserves to be a dad. Maybe. That doesn’t mean you and Wyatt should be together or even need to be together.”

  I steeple my hands over my nose, taking deep breaths. “The only way for me to be certain he should have a chance with Haven is by spending time with him. Otherwise, I’m throwing her to the wolves. I’m not doing that. I’ll gladly put my own heart on the line if it spares hers. I’m capable of walking away from him if he’s lying.”

  “You’re sure? It’s been ten years and I swear after two days you’re already half in love with him again.”

  “Half in love or fully in love, Haven comes first. She did back then and she does now too. That’s not going to change no matter what pretty words he sings in my ear.”

  “This situation screams ‘potential disaster’ to me.” Nikki’s worry and disapproval sit between us palpably. “Do you need me to get Haven to school before I head to my open house?”

  “No. I’ll take her. It’s something I miss.” I take a deep breath. “Then I’ll text Wyatt.”

  I leave Nikki in the living room and head up the stairs to the bedroom beside Haven’s. All of Haven’s life, my younger sister has maintained the stability I couldn’t give her once I started working again. People said I turned down jobs after Wyatt and I split because of my heartbreak. That I hid from the spotlight out of embarrassment because Wyatt appeared to move on so quickly. For more than a year, there wasn’t a single paparazzi shot of me. The island was my cocoon. Even if I hadn’t been pregnant, I would have refused to feed the “poor me” narrative.

  When I returned to acting, the roles were smaller and in independent films. The projects had to be short. Once Haven started school, and Nikki agreed to keep her routine, I took bigger jobs, longer shoots, but never the big budget project to skyrocket me into the megafamous stratosphere again.

  To the outside world, we were a close family. Keep a low enough profile and no one cares enough to come looking.

  Haven is in the backseat of Nikki’s car a
s I drive her to school. I haven’t texted Wyatt yet, and he’s being surprisingly patient. At one time, he’d have emailed, sent a text message, and called by now. He likes to know where he stands.

  “I’m so glad you’re driving me today.” Haven stares out the window.

  “Oh yeah?”

  “Yeah, it’s been forever since you drove me.”

  A pang of guilt strikes my heart. “You enjoy spending time with Aunt Nikki, though, right?”

  “Yes, Mom.” She uses that voice only a child can perfect, as though I’m the one being ridiculous. “What are you doing today? Interview? Phone call? Reading scripts?” Haven pauses and meets my eyes in the rearview mirror. “Seeing my dad?”

  Her face is alight with mischief, but the emphasis on the last word is joyous. After hearing about him, she can label him hers. The novelty of having him visit might never wear off.

  “Yes, I’m seeing Wyatt today for a bit.” I turn into the school parking lot and pull up to the kiss-and-go curb.

  She undoes her seatbelt. “I want to see him too.”

  I take a breath, not wanting to deny her. She doesn’t understand the risk. “We’ll see how today goes, okay?”

  I’m not even sure what I’m going to do with Wyatt today. If he sees Haven’s room, he’ll be able to put the pieces together. The house is sparsely decorated except for our bedrooms, which are both filled with a flood of photos. It’ll be obvious she isn’t my niece. Maybe I could keep the doors to that part of the house closed.

  I climb out of the car to give her a quick kiss and hug. She greets her friends as she enters the school. Watching her, I’m sure I’ve done the right thing in shielding her. She’s happy, she’s healthy, and she hasn’t had to suffer most of the chaos of my lifestyle.

  That chaos is waiting for me in his hotel room, and I don’t know if Nikki is right and I should keep him away. When I left him, I felt like I had no choice, but I’m faced with the reality of that decision now.

  I went back once to try to tell him about Haven, and when he was too out of it to understand what I was saying, I left, and I sealed the door to him behind me. Addict Wyatt wasn’t an option. I couldn’t build a family or any kind of life with him as he was.

  Part of me, despite what I implied to Haven over the years, never expected him to be well enough to re-enter our lives. Now that he is, I’m paralyzed with indecision. At what point is it safe to trust him, if ever?

  Chapter Thirteen

  Ellie

  Eleven years ago

  My favorite time with Wyatt is any day when we’re not rushing out of the house to meet a manager, to take a meeting about an upcoming production, to discuss clothing for scheduled appearances, or to catch a flight to our next movie set.

  Tomorrow I leave for a gymnastics movie I’m starring in that’s shooting in Vancouver, Canada, and Wyatt begins production mid-week on a thriller filming at Alcatraz. But today we get to pretend we’re normal people. A lazy morning in bed, followed by a trip to the gym, a table read for Wyatt at the studio, and then Sunday dinner. A rarity, lately.

  Wyatt’s phone vibrates on the bedside table, and he rolls over to grab it. He squints at the screen before writing back.

  “Who’s that?” I ask.

  “Tommy. Reminding me I have an interview with Faces magazine tomorrow in Malibu for Right of Passage.”

  “What do you think they’re going to ask you about?” Sometimes we play a game where we list the most ridiculous interview questions we’ve ever received.

  He sets down his phone and stretches his arm across my middle, tugging me close to him. “Probably bring up my relationship with my parents. Ties into the movie, and everyone’s always looking for the emancipation details.”

  His emancipation and his family dynamics are murky waters to wade into when he hasn’t self-medicated. Any time I try to gently prod, he usually shuts me down. Tells me they aren’t memories worth reliving.

  “Are you going to discuss it?”

  “It’s not a great story.” He traces the curve of my hip. “My hairdresser-to-the-stars mother and my boom-operator father had kids as a way to stop working and get high all the time. From the time I was a baby, I was in commercials. Same with Anna. We were a means to an end. Not kids to raise.”

  My upbringing is on the opposite end of the spectrum. My parents doted on me and my sister, and we’re all very close. Wyatt’s already told me that I’ll never meet his parents, and he’s not even sure they’re still alive. He says he doesn’t care, but I find that incomprehensible.

  “At six, I was pouring Baileys over my ice cream. At nine, my sister and I were being dragged into nightclubs with my parents. They were always after the next high—whatever that might be. By sixteen, I’d had enough. Isaac’s family was proof my parents were no good. They’re probably the only reason I’m not dead. Hired a lawyer, and I got the hell out of there.”

  “No one tried to help you?”

  “Child services came once in a while, but our parents convinced us we’d be worse off with a stranger in foster care. So we lied. Maybe we would have been treated worse in care. No way to be sure.”

  “Why didn’t Anna leave too?” We’ve never delved so deeply into his family history before. A comment here or there, but an entire conversation has been impossible.

  “She wouldn’t leave.” He strokes my hair and kisses my forehead. “I think they guilt-tripped her into staying. Either way, she feels I abandoned her. Left her to fend for herself in that house.”

  “Sometimes the best thing you can do is save yourself.” I run my fingers along his cheek. Lately, I’ve been worried about Anna. Wyatt doesn’t see it, but she’s become more erratic. Can’t keep any of her modeling jobs. The last time she came to our house high, she flew into a rage at Wyatt and left scratches on his face. Isaac had to pull her off and then he held her as she cried.

  We lie in silence, and Wyatt buries his face in my neck. “I’ve never loved anyone the way I love you.”

  I squeeze him tight, and I hope my next comment lands in the spirit I intend. “You and Anna went through a lot as kids. It seems like she’s been struggling lately. Maybe she should talk to someone?”

  He releases a deep sigh and flips off the covers. “I’m grabbing a Perc. You want anything?”

  “No.” The days we see Tanvi and Kabir, I don’t indulge. I’m not as good at managing my ups and downs, and I hate feeling out of control.

  Wyatt leans against the doorway to the en suite, a glass of water in his hand. “When I left, I let her down. I’m not doing that again.”

  I sit up in bed to face him and hug my knees to my chest. The distance he’s kept is deliberate, and I realize I need to tread carefully. We’ll never see eye to eye on his sister, but I don’t know how to watch her get worse and say nothing.

  “You and Anna are just really different people,” he says. “We should get to the gym.”

  His misjudgment where she’s concerned isn’t new, but his version of protecting her is more like coddling. I throw back the blankets, and I pad after him into the walk-in closet.

  Isaac and I take the Rolls-Royce to Tanvi and Kabir’s house in West Hollywood, while Wyatt jets off on the motorcycle to pick up Anna from her latest crisis at a photoshoot.

  Since the night I met Anna at the club, she’s been trying to poke holes in my relationship with Wyatt. From snide comments to introducing him to a bevy of models to inventing any kind of predicament that needs his immediate attention, she’s happy to drive a wedge between us however she can. She hates how much he dotes on me, and I hate how much he indulges her bad behavior.

  At the house, I help Tanvi set the table while Isaac and his dad sit in the living room discussing the latest cricket scores.

  “I’m so glad we could all have dinner together tonight,” Tanvi says. “It’s been months since everyone was in LA. You and Wyatt have been out of the country, and Anna has been modeling. Isaac ha
s been so busy too.”

  Isaac has been in the city the whole time auditioning, but he avoids Sunday dinners unless the rest of us can come too. I’m pretty sure he lies to his parents about his availability. He drops in on them, but he never stays for long. As soon as he turned eighteen, he moved into Wyatt’s mansion, and he’s never looked back.

  Lately, Isaac’s work situation has been dicey. Endorsements and commercials are his bread and butter, along with some tech investments. Sometimes I think he’d be happier if he got out of the Hollywood scene. Whenever I try to discuss his employment situation, he shoves a Xanax in his mouth and tells me I don’t need to worry about him.

  Wyatt and Anna burst through the door. Anna is laughing with a lit cigarette in her hand. When she waves it around, Wyatt snatches it from her fingers, steals a drag, and then takes it to the sink to stub it out. As the smoke drifts toward us in the dining room, I realize it wasn’t tobacco they were smoking.

  Kabir and Isaac emerge from the living room, and Kabir envelops Wyatt in a hug, then Anna. “So nice to see my Burgess children,” he says with a wink.

  As soon as we’re seated and passing the dishes Tanvi would have spent all day making, Kabir begins his familiar round of questioning.

  “Isaac, when are you going to bring a girlfriend to dinner?” At the head of the table, he heaps his plate with more rice.

  Isaac rubs the back of his neck, and Wyatt jumps in. “Didn’t you say she was in Shanghai filming a movie?”

  “Yeah,” Isaac says. “She’s out of the country. Next time.”

  “It’s always next time. I’m starting to think you’re ashamed of your family,” Kabir says.

  The only times I’ve met her have been in big groups at clubs or places where paparazzi lurk. None of the women he dates last very long, and his parents aren’t the only ones who never get to know them.

  “I just want grandbabies,” Tanvi says with a wide smile. “If Isaac is not going to give them to me, I’ll have to count on Wyatt and Ellie.”

  Wyatt chokes on his sip of his water.

 

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