Second Chance

by Willow Winters

  Chapter 20

  Harlow

  * * *

  “Once more!” Stevens yells out and I look back at him, my eyes stinging from a night of letting it all out. Today’s the last day of shooting and thank God I only need to walk and look into a window while another actor, a side character, counts the cash.

  It’s a simple task, but Stevens keeps recording. Repeatedly. Unceasingly. He’s been a pain in my ass this last week. Maybe that’s one more thing that’s been picking at me. It’s like he can see it too. Maybe it’s written on my face. Maybe they can all hear what I’m screaming inside my head.

  I knew I had to end it before we even got back to his dressing room. Article after article couldn’t have convinced me. It hurt to read them, each one chipping away at my armor little by little. But that’s not what did me in.

  He could never say it back to me. I love you.

  Not then, and not now.

  It’s because he doesn’t really love me. I’m foolish to think he does. You don’t throw someone away if you truly care about them. Not when they’re hurting and so thoroughly destroyed.

  I didn’t know what a fucking mess I was until I saw that look in my eyes in that picture. It’s brutal to have the truth plastered in front of your face. The fear and stupidity, really.

  He makes me weak.

  And I’m done with being anything less than the strong woman I’ve set out to be.

  I wait for my cue, rocking on my heels as the click of the safe closing is followed by, “Action!”

  Three, two, and one. I start walking. Three steps past the darkened window and I take a glance inside, just a small one, as if I was only a passing bystander. My heels click with my easy strides and the red scarf over my head tickles at my ears as I move, but I don’t touch it. I refuse to let my face move either. Even as I leave the window and wait quietly on the edge of the set, watching as the cameras continue to roll.

  Stevens has four of them going now. How many angles does he need?

  I grit my teeth, hating how irritable I am. I’d rather be angry. Anger is so much easier to hide.

  “You alright?” a small voice from my right asks and I snap out of it, looking at an extra I recognize.

  “Yeah,” I reply and shake my head and give her a smile. Her name’s Rachel, or her character’s name is. Shit, I forget.

  “It’s a wrap!” she says with a smile and humor although her face is still scrunched, and the humor doesn’t reach her eyes. She keeps walking ahead of me and that’s when I notice the set is clearing out.

  An uneasy breath leaves me as I reach down and take off the heels one at a time. My bare feet hit the cement floor as the backdrop is lowered by the stage crew.

  I force a smile on my face and keep in mind that today is over. This entire ordeal is over.

  We have a one-week break before we hear back about any alterations or retakes. A full week of being away from Nathan. And if I want, Nancy’s assured me that I never have to see him again.

  I try to ignore the pain from that thought as I walk through an empty hall back to my room. It’s what I wanted, what I demanded, but that only makes my heart clench harder.

  The second I close the door; I hear my phone vibrating on the desk. I sag against the door, leaning my head back and staring at it.

  Let it ring.

  I imagine it’s my mom again. Telling me to come home. Telling me she’s worried for me.

  I’m worried too. But I don’t want to run and hide away. I don’t want to go back to what I was before this, but I don’t know where I can go from here.

  I slowly lower myself to the floor and as my ass hits it, my phone vibrates again.

  I just want to be left alone.

  But what if it’s Nathan? My heart slams and I quickly scramble to get up. I won’t answer, I just want to know if it’s him. He messaged last night, and I was able to control myself. But now I’m like a junkie, eager to see if he still wants me.

  Thoughts and accusations ricochet in my head, whispering that I’m weak, but I ignore them. Only to swallow my own pathetic wishes when I see it is just my mother. I can’t talk to her right now. Not when I don’t have a plan. She wants to protect me and take care of everything for me and I know she loves me, but I don’t want to live in a bubble all my life. I love her, and she knows that, but I need to live my own life.

  I toss my phone onto the desk and it hits the edge of the stack of papers Nancy gave me. I glance at the top one.

  * * *

  Page Six of the New York Post

  * * *

  Is it over before it even started?

  * * *

  That’s what fans of the now-lovebirds Nathan Hart and Harlow May are wondering.

  According to those close to the pair, Harlow’s just a sweet girl caught up in the bright lights of the set and swept away by her former high school sweetheart.

  But the feelings aren’t mutual, sources say. He hasn’t done a single thing to show his commitment and close friends know that the "dating” label is only to save face. She’s naïve to think he still wants her. It’s a relationship of convenience for him. The moment production wraps up, he’ll be on to the next pretty little thing. There’s nothing that indicates otherwise.

  Seems like Mr. Hart isn’t quite the sweetheart she remembered and he’s only passing the time with Miss May.

  * * *

  It’s the same one that was on the table when I walked into the conference room.

  Humiliated. That’s how I feel. Easily summed up into one word.

  Even the rest of the world knows that I’m stupid. It’s written in black and white. Of course it’s convenient for him to put up with me rather than deal with the mess.

  Isn’t that what he’s always done? Stupid. I’ve always been stupid and it seems like it will never change.

  “I’m only stupid when it comes to him,” I say under my breath.

  I clear my throat and turn off vibrate on my phone. My head’s killing me from lack of sleep. My body, in general, is exhausted. I’m emotionally a wreck.

  Emotional is not a substantial enough word. What’s wrong with me?

  My throat gets tight as I set the phone down and I see a message from Nathan pop up. Are you done?

  A warmth flows through me, almost relaxing. As if knowing he’s thinking of me eases some of the pain etched deeply into my soul.

  He texts me again before I can justify texting him back. I want to see you before you leave.

  It’s easier to just cut things off and run.

  It’s what he did to me and I understand why.

  If I see him, I’ll cave.

  So instead, I run.

  Chapter 21

  Nathan

  * * *

  “If you break your phone, I’m not buying you another,” Mark says from across the conference room. The signed contracts for upcoming promotions are the only papers on the twelve-foot-long table. He leans back in his seat, seemingly casual, but I know him better.

  I try to respond with something, anything, but no words come to mind. I can’t think about anything other than Hally. This meeting is the only thing that kept me from watching her today. That, and the fact that she told me she needed space.

  That’s a new one from her and it’s a cruel one too. Because it gives me too much hope.

  “You’ve been tense all day,” he says to break up the silence.

  “Are we done here?” I ask him, pocketing my phone and intent on going straight to Hally’s dressing room. I pick up the pen, set it down on the stack of papers and push them forward, closer to him, although there’s no way he’d be able to reach them. It’s just to signify that I’m done with this.

  He lets out an uncomfortable sigh, pulling at his tie and focusing on the checkered pattern before looking back up at me. “Is it Harlow?” he asks.

  Shame is the first thing I feel and it’s what makes me break his gaze. I can’t look anyone in the eye, knowing I’ve lost her again. An
d it’s my fault, I know it is. I’ve shut her down time and time again. There’s only so much a person can take.

  I should have been there for her years ago. Just like I’ve been doing all day, I take my phone out and see that she’s seen the messages, but she hasn’t responded.

  The dry ache in my throat and the plummeting in my chest overwhelm the anger.

  This isn’t a stupid high school game. We’ve both grown up.

  This isn’t a fight either; I know how Hally approaches them.

  She doesn’t want me.

  Plain and simple.

  I know how I messed up. I just don’t know how to make her forgive me.

  “If you two split,” Mark interrupts my thoughts and my eyes rise to his. I forgot he was even here. I forgot where I was. “We’ll lose this deal. Well, one of the two of you will. There’s no way they’ll believe you can work together,” Mark says and then cuts off his words. As if he’s just now realizing I’m pissed off.

  “What I was saying,” Mark continues, shifting in his seat. “We have plenty of new deals available.”

  I tap my fingers on the table, the rest of my body like a stone. I don’t even think I can repeat back what he said beyond the words, “If you two split.”

  “We’re not breaking up,” I answer him simply. Denial. I hear the sinister whisper in the back of my skull, but I ignore it. “It’s just a fight,” I tell him although the excuse is more for me.

  “And what’s this fight about?” he asks.

  I hesitate, and he takes the time to explain. “I’ve never seen you like this,” he says.

  “And?” I dare him to continue.

  I can practically see the wheels turning in his head, wondering whether or not he should tell me what’s on his mind.

  “This isn’t you,” Mark suggests, gesturing with his hand.

  I haven’t been myself in years. I forgot who I was. And that’s the way I wanted it to be. “The only person who truly knows me is her, Mark,” I tell him and the raw honesty hurts.

  She knows every flaw and every weakness. And she’s never exploited them. She’s loved me in spite of it all. My eyes close and my head falls back as I realize I haven’t told her how much it means to me. How everything else could vanish and if only she was left, I would still feel complete.

  She should know that, shouldn’t she?

  If there’s one thing I should tell her, it should be that.

  “Where are you going?” Mark asks me.

  “To her room,” I answer him quickly and dare him to question it.

  His eyes narrow as he tilts his head. “Is she really worth it?” he asks and it’s the worst fucking thing he could have done. My knuckles crack as I make two fists and push them against the table as I lean forward to answer him, holding back my rage and the desire to destroy him for questioning how much I love her. How much I need her. I wasn’t even living until she came back to me.

  “She is mine. My girlfriend, or whatever you want to call it. She’s mine and I’m not letting her go,” I tell him and my words come out more menacing than anything else.

  He doesn’t answer me for a long time, and I can see he wants to question me.

  “I messed up. But it was ten years ago.” My voice is raw as I tell him the truth, the full confession so close to the tip of my tongue. “How long do I have to pay for it?” I ask him as my heart feels like it’s collapsing in on itself. “How do I make it right?” I barely get out as my breathing gets heavier, faster. I’m truly begging. I’ve never begged for anything, but for her, I’d do anything.

  “Did you tell her you were sorry?” he asks me, the questioning in his eyes long gone. I nod my head in response, trying to relax my anxious body. “Did you show her?” he asks.

  I can’t respond, because the truth is, I don’t know how. I turn away from him, running a hand down my face and trying to think of what I could do to show her I’m truly sorry I ever left her. I had to though. I couldn’t let her be associated with me, knowing the cops would find out.

  But they never did. It’s the guilt that kept the distance between us.

  “You left her, pushed her away?” Mark asks from behind me and I turn back around to face him.

  “I had to,” I tell him in response, but the words feel hollow. Even I notice the lack of conviction. If only I could go back.

  “Maybe you should chase her then.”

  I don’t think twice about it, not a second to waste. I shove my palms against the table and get the hell out of the room. “Talk to you soon,” I tell Mark as I leave to go get Hally. When I glance at him as I open the door to leave, he gives me a nod although I’m not sure if it’s an approving one. No one likes to root for someone who keeps secrets from them.

  I don’t need anyone’s approval though. I only need Hally.

  I have to take the elevator up to the fourteenth floor to the set she’s on, while each second that passes pisses me off. The elevator has never moved so slowly before; the time teases me, taunts me really. As if it wants to torture me this one last time before I get to have her forever.

  The hall’s empty when I step out and I already know I’m going to be disappointed. I know something’s off. I can feel it in the pit of my stomach.

  The set’s being taken apart as I walk past it. I keep going, straight to her dressing room. Slipping the phone from my pocket I check for a message from her, but there’s nothing.

  My heart stutters and my limbs go stiff; she’s intentionally ignoring me, but I don’t let it stop me. She’s the one who wants to talk, and I can do that now. I only need one more chance.

  I check her dressing room. It’s empty.

  I check her friend’s, but it’s vacant too.

  Standing there numbly, I’m not sure what to do or where to go. I call her, but it doesn’t ring, just goes straight to voicemail. I’ve never felt this alone.

  It’s not till I get to my dressing room and find the letter she left that I feel any sort of control.

  * * *

  Nathan,

  * * *

  I have to leave. It’s the best thing for me at the moment.

  I’m sorry, but I have to take care of myself right now.

  * * *

  Hally

  * * *

  I stare at her signature for far too long, tracing the double Ls with the tip of my finger. She didn’t sign it "yours” or "with love.” There’s no mention of us or where we stand. The only question on my mind is where I’m going to find her. Because if it’s the last thing I do, I will find her.

  Chapter 22

  Harlow

  * * *

  There’s something soothing about driving. Especially with no radio and the windows down. Even the city traffic wasn’t bad. I kind of liked the sounds of the nightlife. As I head back to my hometown, it’s all just white noise now.

  It’s not the kind of white noise that lulls babies to sleep though. My shoulders rise and my neck cracks as the weariness continues to run me down further into the depths of where I was years ago.

  Alone and scared. Waiting every second for the cops to come for me. When I saw the news and saw his picture, it destroyed me. I couldn’t even leave my room. I clung to a pillow, trying to will the memory to die. It haunted me and I deserved it. Every day that passed without me being arrested was a day I counted my blessings.

  The guilt and shame built until I almost couldn’t stand it. I wanted to beg Nathan to come with me and confess to the cops. I prayed to God every night for them to understand that it was an accident.

  But no one ever came.

  And the memories slowly faded.

  Especially that summer, when Nathan was gone and the reminders lessened and grew fewer.

  Even when I went back to school, somehow life became normal and sleep came back to me. The nightmares subsided and I became the person I once was.

  That’s a true crime. Living without repenting, and life is well with it all.

  It’s funny how t
he oddest thing would bring me back, and it would hurt even more. Because I’d moved on and never confessed. I swallow the thought; it scratches my dry throat on the way down.

  My turn signal clicks and I look up to see that I’m at the intersection of Second Street where I should be turning. The drive went by so fast. My foot twitches on the brake, and the car rocks forward slightly at the stop sign. I need to take a right to go home, but that’s not where I’m going.

  My muscles tense and a voice in my head screams at me not to be so stupid. Not to go down here. The voice says I know better. The voice tells me it’s all my fault for being so stupid.

  The voice says I deserve this and I’ll pay.

  Funny how that gives me slight comfort. Or maybe it’s just sad.

  The streets don’t look as scary as they once did. Maybe because they’re empty. I huff a pathetic laugh at the thought. The boogeyman doesn’t sit on the street corner; he hides in the shadows. My eyes flicker down the narrow alleyways, but I don’t see anyone.

  Goosebumps travel over my body as a chill makes its way slowly down my spine.

  I don’t even start to have second thoughts until I’m pulling into the church parking lot, parking under one of the three lights. To my right is the liquor store. It’s still the same. It even has the same sign, although it’s weathered now. Just a few blocks down is where it happened. But there’s nowhere to park down there. Not that I want to.

  None of it would have happened if I hadn’t sneaked out that night to meet him at Nina’s. It would have ended so much worse if Nathan hadn’t come.

  The sound of crickets fills the car. I never noticed them before. They’re loud, but when I twist the keys in the ignition, turning it off, the sounds hesitate briefly then go back to chirping just as loudly as before.