The Italian Heartthrob: Forbidden Standalone

by N J Adel

“It’s not your fault, Kyle. It’s just the way you are. Too good to believe that such horrible things exist. It’s easier to believe I’m a spoiled, self-centered, bad girl than to believe a mother can intentionally fuck up her daughter that bad.”

  “I’m sorry. I know it’s too late, but I really am sorry.”

  “Thanks,” I replied, my voice thick with emotion. “It means a lot to me.”

  He stared at me for a few moments, his expression an unspoken question, and then he rose, putting his paper plate away. “Just know that I’ll always love you, and if you ever need me for anything, I’ll always be there for you.” He bent, casting a long shadow over me, and kissed me on the cheek.

  I glimpsed Amanda’s face in the crowd. Her big eyes were on Kyle, and when she saw me, she gave me a shy smile. “Why don’t you go say hi to Amanda? You know…she’s good. Like you.”

  He pulled back, took a deep breath, and nodded. “Goodbye, Maggie.”

  “Goodbye, Kyle.”

  Scene 87

  Mike

  As if they hadn’t existed, Mike walked among the paparazzi blocking the hospital entrance and hammering him with questions. He took the elevator and walked down the hallway to Maggie’s room. Soft music hummed through the door. He thought about going in, but he knew the party would end the second she saw him.

  Someone opened the door, and before he could duck behind one of the guards, his eyes met Maggie’s as she reclined on the bed. She nodded for him to come inside, but he shook his head. He didn’t want to talk to her in front of everyone.

  The visitors began leaving one by one, as if on cue, until there was only Nick and Cassidy with her.

  “Gennaro, better late than never,” Cassidy said, motioning for Mike to enter. “We saved you some cake.”

  Mike sighed, looking at Maggie for confirmation, and she nodded again.

  When Mike got in, Cassidy started a conversation with Nick about some house renovations and dragged Nick to finish it outside.

  “Subtle,” she said.

  “Very.” He adjusted a pillow behind her head and sat on the bed next to her.

  “You missed the party.”

  “I didn’t know you were having one.”

  “Liar.” She paused, and he looked down. “Jim told me you’ve been arranging this together, and you told him this morning to say it was his idea.”

  He pursed his lips. That asshole couldn’t keep a secret. “Well, I technically didn’t miss it. I arrived late and waited outside. You know I’d never miss your birthday.”

  “Where were you?” she asked softly.

  “Getting your present.” He reached inside the pocket of his jacket and pulled out some papers. A contract. “Here. I convinced the other partners to sell Dark Hopes and made arrangements with Robello to buy it as an indie with the same terms. You don’t have to worry about finding a new producer.” Pain seared through him as he spoke.

  Maggie read through the contract and cried. “Mike, you didn’t have to do this. All I wanted was to have it back.”

  “If I can’t be a part of it, the least I can do is help you find a new home for it.”

  “This is so hard already, and you’re making it even harder.”

  He reached for her hand. “I didn’t mean to. I thought I was helping.”

  “You are helping. No one has ever helped me more than you. That’s why it’s so hard. You gotta stop taking care of me and start taking care of yourself. Ignoring your issues to fix mine isn’t a heroic sacrifice like you believe. It’s what got us here in the first place,” she said, tears drifting into her mouth. “Living in denial rips you apart on the inside. You have to find a way to face what happened to you so you can make peace with it somehow. Not easy, I know, and it might never happen, but you gotta try.”

  He didn’t want to hear it. He shook his head, refusing to listen. “I can handle my pain. It’s yours that I can’t take.”

  “Stop doing this. You can’t handle shit. You can’t even say what she did to you out loud.” She winced. “You’ve been raped, Mike. Do you understand how horrific that is?”

  A sharp jolt of pain resonated through him. She was right. He couldn’t even say the word in his head, and hearing it fell so heavy on his soul. The weakness and the fear he felt at the moment was so much to bear he trembled. Quaked.

  “I’m so sorry for being such a bitch right now, but someone had to say it,” she said. “Go to therapy, Mike. People like us need it. I’ve talked to the therapist here a few times, and it’s not so bad. Uncomfortable as fuck, but not bad.”

  “I will. I promise you.” He squeezed her hand. “But please, amore, it doesn’t have to be like this.” He felt as if he was choking on his own heart. “It doesn’t have to end.”

  Her eyes lifted to the ceiling, tears streaming down her cheeks. “Yes, it does. Why can’t you understand?”

  “How can I when it means losing you? I can’t lose you, Maggie.”

  She moaned in pain. “We were never meant to be. Life never gave us a chance. Everything stood against us right from the start. Even before we started.”

  He brushed the tears from her cheeks and squeezed her hand again. “I know I should’ve told you. I know what I did was terrible, and I deserve to be punished, so punish me. But don’t leave me.” His lips shivered. “It will kill me, Carolina. I’m begging you. Please stay with me.”

  She didn’t respond, and he stared at her, willing her to look at him.

  After a long silence, she glanced at him, and then leaned into him, crying harder.

  He embraced her, and then kissed her lips until he could feel his tears filling his eyes. When she drew back, he felt a tightness in his stomach as he saw what she wanted to say written all over her face.

  “I can’t. I just don’t know how.” With her head down, she pulled her hand from his, and he knew it was time for him to go.

  His chest burned with the pain of loss, and he couldn’t fight his tears anymore. He rose, his lips parting with a silent moan. “You’ll always be my Carolina.”

  He lost her. His best friend. The love of his life. The only person who truly understood him. The only woman he’d ever wanted. All gone.

  He lost her.

  PART FIVE

  HOME

  Scene 88

  Maggie

  Coming home at midnight to find Dad in his pajamas curled up in front of the TV wasn’t something I could ever get used to. Just like walking in this house without Andrea’s threatening presence. Even though it was theoretically safe now, and completely redecorated to a style that suited me and Dad, I still heard the occasional clacking of heels and Andrea’s mocking voice; the image of the taunting eyes still haunted me.

  However, I refused to let Dad sell the penthouse and move somewhere else. No matter how impossible it may have seemed, I had to learn how to live here.

  I rested my elbows on the back of the couch, smiling. “Daddy?”

  “Hey, sweetie.” He yawned, stretching his legs. “You’re early.”

  I rolled my eyes at the sarcasm. “You know you don’t have to wait up for me every night?”

  “Yeah, but I want to.” His hand patted the free cushion beside him. “Sit. I haven’t seen you all day.” He shook his head. “In fact, I haven’t seen you all month.”

  “The final month of shooting is always hectic.”

  “I didn’t know making a movie could be that overwhelming.” He motioned for me to sit. “Why are you still standing?”

  “I’m going to bed. I’ve just pulled a fourteen-hour day.”

  “You can’t spare an hour for your old man, who’s been waiting up for you every night, hoping to spend some quality time with you?”

  “Oh, not the guilt trick.” I slumped on the couch beside him. “What are you watching anyway?”

  “Here. You choose.” He handed me the remote. “How was your day?”

  “All right. A little tense ‘cause we’re wrapping tomorrow.”

  “F
inally. Now we can take some time off. Go on a fishing trip or a Eurotrip.”

  “I wish.” I flipped through the channels aimlessly. “But the director’s work is never finished when a movie wraps. I still have tons of things to do.”

  He sighed in disappointment, and I glanced at him. I’d been avoiding long eye contact with him. With anyone. For the first time in months, I took his face in. He’d aged more in the past few months than he had in years. Around his warm eyes, deep wrinkles were visible even in the dim light of the living room. The sag of his cheeks made him look sad, or perhaps it was the other way around.

  “We still can go fishing on the weekend,” I said.

  “Now you’re talking.” His face lit with joy. “You know what else we should do? Invite Jim to dinner tomorrow. To celebrate…wrapping. He should go fishing with us, too.”

  I puckered my lips, flipping through channels faster without looking. “Is there anything decent on?”

  Then a voice made me glance up at the flat screen. Mike’s.

  “Apparently not,” Dad said. “Give me that.”

  “Just…” I scratched the back of my head. “Let’s watch. These interviews only take a few minutes.”

  “You said you were tired. Why don’t you go to bed?”

  I bit a fingernail, leaning forward, watching and ignoring Dad’s growling. Mike was wearing a white T-shirt and dark blue jeans, his hair a little shorter than normal and his stubble light, as if he’d just shaved for the show.

  “Mike, you won an Oscar for your performance in Black Sheep this year. How come you haven’t taken any new projects yet?”

  “For years, I’ve been cornered in a certain image as a performer. Then Black Sheep happened, and everything changed. It’s a tough act to follow. I need to be very careful with my choices from now on, now that I have the liberty to do so.” Mike shifted in his seat. “Until this moment, I haven’t found a voice that spoke to me in the same way Black Sheep did. Probably, I won’t find one again, but I’m hoping for something close.”

  “Does that mean you’re holding another contest?”

  “Yes, and…we’re thinking about making it annual, too. A friend of mine once said: look for fresh voices and undiscovered talents, and let the world amaze you with what it’s got.”

  I enveloped myself with my arms.

  “So the rumors of you quitting aren’t true?”

  “Definitely not true. Even if I want to quit, I can’t. The same friend made me promise I wouldn’t do that.”

  I smiled.

  “That’s great news. I’m sure your fans all over the world will be delighted to hear that. How many movies have you made so far?”

  “Around thirty.”

  “All with different directors?”

  “Mostly. But I’ve worked with Sammy O’Reiley and Mason Mills more than once.”

  “Have you worked with any female directors other than Maggie Dawson?”

  He cleared his throat. “No. She’s the only one.”

  “How different, in your opinion, is working with a female director?”

  “Every director is different. Every time you work with one, it’s a new experience in terms of vision and skills and delivering instructions. I don’t think it has anything to do with gender, but if you’re asking about The Kid in particular, I can assure you she’s no kid.” His eyes dimmed. “She’s one of the…toughest directors I’ve ever worked with.”

  The host bobbed his head. “And when you’re attracted to the director, does it make it easier or more difficult?”

  I took a sidelong glance at Dad, my head still. His lips were twisted, and his arms were crossed over his chest.

  Mike scratched his eye, chuckling. “It makes it…complicated.”

  “Does that mean you’ll never work together again?”

  He stared at the host, taking a deep breath, his poker face dropping. “I’d do…anything…to work with her again.”

  I held myself tighter. I knew I’d made the right choice taking Dark Hopes back and casting Jim as the lead instead of Mike, yet there wasn’t a day I didn’t wish I’d chosen differently.

  “Do you keep in touch?” the host asked.

  Mike shook his head slowly.

  “Is that your wish or hers?”

  His eyes glistened, and my heart squeezed. “Hers.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that. The whole country was devastated when the two of you were no longer an item.”

  Mike clutched at the chevron bracelet around his wrist as he nodded. He never took it or the ring off as he promised. I knew because I’d been looking at his hand in every appearance he’d made. The tabloids had been looking, too. They mentioned the accessories on every possible occasion. Swiftly, the blue ring and bracelet had become a token. A fad that made the jewelry store I bought them from a fortune.

  “How long has it been since the breakup?” the host asked.

  Mike swallowed, pushing his hair off his face. “Five months.”

  “Are you currently in any kind of relationship?”

  He rolled his eyes, his lips stretching with a fake smile. “In Hollywood, five months is more than enough time to move on, but when you break up with your soul mate…there isn’t enough time in the world.”

  I heaved a long sigh, struggling not to cry.

  “Even when she has moved on?”

  “Moved on?” Dad snorted.

  Mike lifted one shoulder in a shrug of resignation. “If she’s happier in her new relationship, I’m happy too. That’s all I want. For her to be happy.”

  I felt a sudden urge to tell him all the rumors about me and Cassidy weren’t true. Fuck. Rising to my feet, I pressed the red button. “You were right. I should go to bed. Good night, Dad.”

  I stalked to my room. My tears broke free in abundance as soon as I closed the door. Rapidly, I changed my clothes and slid under the bed covers, starting my nightly ritual. Crying myself to sleep. And when that didn’t work, and missing Mike was too much to bear, which was almost every night, I’d go through my recently-bought collection of DVDs, and play one of his corny movies I’d always hated. It made me feel like he was watching me in my sleep as he used to do.

  A knock on the door followed by Dad calling my name snatched me out of my pitiful thoughts. I didn’t answer, pretending to be sleeping.

  “Maggie, I know you’re up.”

  I exhaled. “And you know the door is unlocked.” One of the many downsides of surviving two suicide attempts. Never having a locked door again. That and seeing a shrink regularly for God only knew how long. Oh, and the best one of them: no drugs or alcohol.

  Dad’s sigh was louder than his feet as he turned on the lights. My swollen eyes suffered as I adjusted to the brightness.

  “How long are you going to keep doing this to yourself?” he asked with a grimace. “You think I don’t hear you every night?”

  I closed my eyes, biting a fingernail.

  He sighed again as the bed sank beside me. “Maggie, listen. You know how much I hate Gennaro. Hate his guts.”

  My fingers combed through my hair as I opened my eyes again. “I know.”

  “But I’ll be forever in debt to that man…for finding you that night.” His voice quivered.

  “What do you want to say, Dad?”

  “I’m saying that you have two choices here. Either you move on for real, and by that I mean you throw away those goddamn DVDs and allow another man, a decent one, into your life. Or…you go back to Mike.”

  “You know I can’t go back to him.” My voice rose, and I hated how emotional I was, especially while talking to Dad.

  “Why not? Because of me? I don’t want anything more than to see you happy. Because of you? You’re still in love with him, Maggie. Just as much as you were five months ago.”

  I curled my arms over my head, blocking out the words I knew were true. “It’s not just that.”

  “Is it because of your mother? She’s gone now,” he said. “Baby, I’ll ne
ver forget that day you came to my office telling me about the engagement. I saw a glimmer of happiness in your eyes that I’ve never seen there before or after. You can’t let her take that away from you. She ruined your life when she was alive, and she did what she did to herself to ruin your future, too. Don’t give her what she wanted. Don’t let her have that power over you anymore.”

  I sniffled. “It’s just not that easy.”

  “I know, and it’s going to take a lot of work. You have to understand one thing, though. The only person standing between you and your happiness now, sweetie, is you. Allow yourself to be happy, Maggie, because you deserve it.”

  Scene 89

  Maggie

  The last day on set was almost always the same. The easy schedule. The pranks. The cake. The sentiments. The goodbyes.

  “Congratulations, Kid. You finished yet another masterpiece,” Jim said.

  I raised my brows. “That’s a big word.”

  “You’re a big artist.”

  “Thanks, Jim. You, too. I really enjoyed making this one.” I loved my job. It was my crutch. The only motivation left to keep going, holding on to life. Much to my luck, producers still saw something in me after what happened, and I received offers that would keep me going for a while longer. “I couldn’t have done it without you.”

  “Yes, you could have.” His lips curved up. “With a certain Italian.”

  I picked at my cuticles. I had no fingernails left to bite. “I’m gonna…head to my trailer.”

  “Do you mind if I come with? I’d like a word with you in private.”

  “Sure.”

  Once inside, I turned on the air conditioning and closed the door. “So, what do you wanna talk about?”

  He sat in a chair across from me. “Um…you sure heard the rumors.”

  “Which ones? The Oscars or the on-set romance?” I chuckled.

  “You think we’ll be nominated?”

  “I don’t think. I know you’ll win this year.”

  “I know you’ll win, too.”