I roll my eyes at her. “How can you sound so smart but like an asshole at the same time?”
She grins. “It’s one of my many talents.”
I’ve been battling with myself on how to fix things with Hudson – if that’s even possible. I don’t know if it’s too late. I do know one thing for sure, though. What isn’t meant to be is this fake life I’m living.
I had enough and finally broke down last night.
I have the worst damn timing.
It’s been too long since we’ve talked. The day I left Bluebeech with tears in my eyes and unspoken words on my tongue was the worst of my life. My heart is aching to hear his voice. My skin is missing his touch.
I sigh, my shoulders slightly slumping, which results in another annoyed look from Joan. “What if he shuts me down? He thinks I’m a cheater, a liar.”
“Your behavior and silence make you look like one,” Willow argues.
“I want to give you a dirty look right now, but Joan will kick my ass.”
“Damn straight,” Joan says, adding glue to a false eyelash.
“Call him,” Willow demands. “Try. I promise it’ll help convince him you’re not any of those things. Simple as that, pussy pants.”
I scoff. “Like it’s that easy.”
“It really is.”
I take a deep breath of courage before hitting his name and then frown at the response. I end the call. “Too late. He changed his number.”
“Dickhead,” Willow says. “How do you know?”
“That’s what the automatic recording just told me,” I reply.
Willow points to my phone. “Text Dallas and ask him to give you his new one.”
“Isn’t that stalkerish?” I ask.
Willow shrugs. “We all stalk people when we’re in love.”
Joan takes a break from my lips to look over at Willow. “Pretty sure stalking is illegal whether you’re in love with them or not.”
I nod in agreement. “We need to find you a boyfriend stat before you end up in the looney bin.”
“Says the girl who doesn’t have one either.”
I open my mouth for my next smartass comment but stop when I hear the sound of the suite’s front door slamming shut.
“Fuck that shit!” an irate voice yells.
Eli comes storming into the room with Tillie on his heels, fury blazing off the both of them. His manager, a quiet guy I’ve never even had a conversation with, walks in a few seconds later, worry clear on his face.
“Eli,” Tillie says, cautiously.
He points to me with a snarl. “I’m not walking the red carpet with her. I’m not some desperate dude who’s okay with being made out to look like a chump who lets his supposed girlfriend fuck around on him. This stupid dating deal is over. I played my part, paid my dues. If you want someone to sue for it, get her ass. She’s the one who got busted with pictures all over the goddamn place.”
I can’t blame Eli for his animosity. I would’ve reacted the same way if photos leaked of him with another girl. No one wants to look like the idiot that stayed with the cheater. It’s bad for the rep.
“I can put out a statement denying the affair ever happened,” his manager rambles. “I’ll tell them Stella and her bodyguard are only friends. That’s it. The picture was taken at a weird angle.”
Willow snorts. Joan laughs.
“People aren’t fucking dumb,” Eli yells. “Any angle will show them sucking each other’s faces off and fucking.”
“Why do you even care?” I ask. “You got what you wanted. You can go out and have your fun now.”
“No, I fucking didn’t. This bitch.” My mouth, along with everyone else’s except for Tillie’s, falls open from what he called her. Eli is just as much over it as I am. Thankfully, he’s doing the talking for me. Tillie doesn’t seem phased. I’m sure it’s not the first time she’s been called that and worse. “She’s trying to tell my manager that we have to continue this relationship. That’s not happening. I will get on that stage myself and tell them this is all one big fat lie.”
“And risk your entire reputation?” Tillie asks.
“New plan. We’ll tell them you decided to go your separate way,” Eli’s manager says. “No one needs to know about this agreement.”
“How about we don’t go?” I suggest. “I’m perfectly fine with skipping the entire show.”
“Not happening,” Tillie says. “Nice try, though.” I’m still on her shit list and also positive she wants to suffocate me in my sleep.
“See what you caused because you had to go screw around … with the bodyguard, for God’s sake.” Tillie shakes her head and storms out of the room. I flip her back the bird.
“That chick needs some dick herself,” Joan comments. “Because she’s in one hell of a bad mood.” She brings her attention back to me. “And you better not ruin this face I spent thirty minutes working on.”
I look up in the mirror and realize I’m crying. “Shit,” I say, wiping them away.
“I hope you’re not shedding tears over that bitch,” Joan goes on. “She isn’t shit. Don’t let her control your life. If you like a guy, be with him. What’s so wrong about that?”
Willow sits in the chair next to me and hands me a tissue. “That’s what I’ve been saying. So what are you going to do?”
I’m not upset about Tillie being mad. These are tears of regret that I’ve allowed other people to control my life and caused me to lose the one person who made me feel secure.
“I hope it’s to stop fucking crying,” Joan says. “Think about something happy before you ruin my art over here. It’s disrespectful.”
I roll my eyes. “Happiness is not something I’m feeling right now.”
“How can we help so you do?” Willow asks.
“Bring him back to me,” I answer.”
She throws a makeup brush at me. “Then what the hell are you doing, Stella? I can’t fix it. Joan can’t fix it. You have to do something. You have to go to him.”
“I have responsibilities here that I can’t walk away from,” I argue.
“Uh … yes you can.”
“Don’t be funny,” I mutter.
“I’m being honest. You have no obligations right now. You aren’t working on a project. You have nothing holding you back. Nothing. You have enough money that you could retire tomorrow if you wanted to. Take time off. Find yourself.”
“I’m still obligated to go to this stupid ass award show.”
“What if I tell them you have explosive diarrhea and ruined your dress?” She jumps up from her chair like it’s the best idea she’s ever had. “You can’t show up if you’re shitting yourself, and you can’t go naked. They’ll have no room to argue.”
“What the hell is wrong with you?” I ask, shaking my head. “That’s not happening. I’ll go to the awards show and figure out what to do with my life after it.”
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Hudson
I look up from furniture shopping on my laptop when I see Dallas walking into his guest room where I’ve still been crashing until I move into the place I just signed a lease to. Starting over is a bitch, but asking Cameron for my furniture back isn’t happening. I shudder, thinking about her bringing another man into our bed.
Thank fuck I dodged that bullet.
“You. Me. Guys night in,” he declares. “We’ve been some depressing ass dudes who are on the brink of singing Taylor Swift songs if we don’t get our shit together. Lauren kidnapped my child for a girls’ night, so we can drink all the alcohol we want.”
“What’s wrong with Taylor Swift?” I question. “Shake It Off is Maven and mine’s jam.”
He laughs, shaking his head. “Oh hell, he’s growing a heart again.”
I flip him off. “Guys night sounds good to me.”
I’m up for anything that’ll help keep Stella off my mind. I’ve been trying to shake her off by staying as busy as I can, but it’s not working. It’s worse at ni
ght. I stay up thinking about her, and then when I finally do dose off, I’m woken up by another flashback.
Shit sucks.
Even though our time was limited, there’s still something about her I can’t let go. She stole a piece of me with her gentle laugh, with the way it’s difficult for her to keep her hair away from her face, with how she’s treated my family.
We were both lost and fell right into each other’s laps at the time we needed somebody the most.
Love can build up over time, or it can tear into you like a storm – sweeping you off your feet and you have no idea what just happened. You had no time to prepare yourself for the happiness of surviving or the devastation of heartache. That’s what I experienced with Hurricane Stella. I fell for her and crashed into her waves before I realized I’d even stepped outside.
I never believed in instant love until her.
I never thought I’d crave someone I’d only known a month until her.
I was brought up with the notion that love assembles with time. That’s what happened with Cameron, with my parents, with everyone I know. But that wasn’t the case with Stella. Love assembles with conversations, with sweet gestures, with making the other person feel as though they’re perfect in your eyes.
And fuck do I miss her, miss that rush, like hell.
And the world isn’t helping me move on.
She’s everywhere.
Fucking everywhere.
In real life. In my dreams.
Even Maven is finding it crucial to watch all of the reruns of her show that are now streaming on Netflix.
New rule – no dating anyone who’s on TV.
I walk into the living room with a beer in each hand and plop down on the couch before giving one to Dallas.
I start to make myself comfortable when he changes the channel.
“What the hell dude?” I yell. I’m not pissed that he changed our regular programming of sports. It’s what he turned it to. “Guys night involves drinking and staying the fuck out of our feelings. Next channel please.”
I can’t keep seeing her. It’ll tear me apart. I’m sure as fuck not going to put myself through that hell if I have the ability to stop it.
He looks at me from the other side of the sectional while trying his best to look innocent. “What are you talking about? I’ve been waiting for this to come on all week.”
I throw my arm out towards the TV and narrow my eyes. “You’ve been counting down the days to watch The Teen’s Choice Awards?” He nods. “Something you’ve never taken an interest in before? Not even when we were teens.”
He holds the remote up. “It looks good. Maven wanted me to keep her updated on it.”
“Fucking liar. What it looks like is you setting me up.”
He grins. “You have two options. The Little Mermaid or this.”
“The fuck? Last time I checked you had every single damn channel known to man.”
“True, but I’m hosting guy’s night, which means I get to choose what we watch.”
I settle back in my seat. “Screw it. Whatever your plan is, it ain’t going to work.”
He holds his hands up. “No plan here.”
I stop myself from calling him out on his shit. He’s having fun with this, something he hasn’t had in a long ass time.
Might as well give him what he wants.
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Stella
My heart is close to bolting from my chest.
I’ve never done anything like this before.
This decision could obliterate my career … even more than it has since the whole Eli-Cheat-Gate. It’s not like it’s at its highest point right now, anyways.
Eli’s shoulder bumps into mine when he leans in from his seat to bitterly whisper in my ear. “We better not win this shit. You can bet my ass I won’t go up there and accept that award with you.” Tillie eventually convinced, well threatened, him to come. He drew the line at walking the red carpet or participating in any interviews, and surprisingly, she agreed. And even more surprisingly, she allowed me to do the same, which was most likely only so I wouldn’t be interrogated on why I was solo.
I can’t blame Eli for his anger. News has been slow these past few weeks, so our so-called cheating scandal has been a shit-storm with Eli being the brunt of the jokes. Humiliation is destructive to a career in this industry. Tabloids and the internet will never let you live it down.
We’re in the front row of the award show that’s thirty minutes in. Thirty minutes too long, honestly. I can’t wait to get out of here. I run my hand down my dress when the presenter begins to go over the nominees in our category. Winning the award isn’t important to me.
It’s the opportunity I want.
The moment.
If we lose, I lose my chance.
Unless I pull a Kanye.
The presenter, a girl I’ve worked with on my show before, opens the envelope and squeals before screaming out our names for the best movie couple.
“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” Eli mutters underneath his breath, covering his face to hide his aggravation from the cameras.
He stands up, which goes against what he’d said, but doesn’t bother helping me out of my chair. His manners do come through when he waits for me before going on stage and helps me up the stairs so I don’t bust my ass in my eight-inch heels.
The crowd is clapping. Fan girls who tagged us in endless Instagram photos hashtagged #relationshipgoals are squealing in excitement.
Relationship goals.
Ha. We’re nothing but phonies.
Eli stands back, his arms crossed, and gestures for me to go ahead. All eyes are on me when I stand in front of the microphone. My stomach is in knots so tight it physically hurts, but I have to do this. I close my eyes and take a calming breath before I let my confession slip through my lips.
“I want to start off by thanking our fans who saw the movie and voted for us,” I begin. “All of you have given me so much in my career. You’ve shown me compassion and honesty, but I haven’t given that back to you.”
I feel the weight of Eli’s chest hitting my back. “Don’t fucking do it, Stella,” he hisses, grabbing my elbow.
I jerk myself from his hold and go on. “There’s been a lot of speculation surrounding my life for as long as I can remember. I’ve grown up in the public eye with everyone witnessing the best and worst times of my life, whether I liked it or not. The negative stories would get to me, so I faked who I was so people would like what they saw. Being accepted was my validation in this merciless industry. I put other people’s approval before my happiness. I believed that my success was dependent on what I was wearing or who I was dating.” I start to choke up, but I force myself to push through, even when the tears start. “I wasn’t following my heart.” I place my hand over my chest. “I want to apologize to you for being dishonest. I wasn’t cheating on Eli because we were never a couple.”
I glance back to silently apologize to Eli, but he’s already walking off the stage. I inhale another breath before continuing. I’ve already started digging my grave – might as well jump in. “I can’t continue to choose my career over my happiness. You won’t get the best of me if I do.”
I can see the jaws dropping through my teary vision. The room is silent. Phones are up in the air recording me. I’ve never felt so free.
I swipe a fresh tear from my face as applause erupts around me.
I whip around in my heels, and the cameras follow me as I flee backstage where Willow is waiting. This was our plan.
“We need to get out of here before the rest of the mob shows up,” she rushes out. “I have a car waiting for us.”
“Thank you,” I breathe out.
My new bodyguard follows me through the hallway while I keep my head down and ignore the camera flashes and questions about my relationship with Hudson. A rush of cold air and relief hits me when we walk through the exit doors.
Willow shoves my phone into my
hand as soon as we slide into the backseat of the SUV with tinted windows. I text Dallas immediately.
Me: Did you get him to watch it?
I start to fan myself with my hand. My heart is in the grips of a man I’m not sure even wants anything to do with me. I took the risk. I hope he’ll do the same.
“Calm down before you have a heart attack,” Willow orders. “Dallas has your back and wants his brother to be happy. Let’s hope he hog-tied him, or whatever those country people do, to a chair and made him watch it.”
“Even if he did, that doesn’t mean it’ll change his mind about me,” I say, nervously.
I almost drop my phone when it vibrates.
Dallas: I did. His reaction wasn’t pretty. I’m sorry, Stella.
No. No!
Why did I wait so long?
Why did I hold back on something that made me feel whole?
I’m dumb. Hudson isn’t one for grand gestures. He’s simple. All he asked for was honesty and commitment and gave me so many chances to give it to him, but I’d been too stubborn. I walked away and tore down everything we’d built.
My hands are shaking as I type out my response.
Me: It’s fine. Thank you for trying.
“Tell me it’s good news,” Willow says. I can tell from the crestfallen look on her face she knows.
“It’s over,” is all I can whimper. My hands are still shaking. My legs are shaking. I’m shattering everywhere. “I need to accept that.”
She scoots in closer to pull me in for a hug. “He’ll come around.”
I shake my head. “No. He’s too headstrong. You should’ve seen his face when I chose to leave. It was a mixture of disgust and regret. He lost all feelings for me when I told him I wasn’t going to tell the truth.”
I start to scrape away at my fresh manicure in an attempt to calm myself. She squeezes me one last time and pulls away when her phone goes off. Her eyes grow wide as she reads a text and then frantically starts smashing her fingers against the screen.
“Who are you talking to?” I ask. “Incase you didn’t know, I’m over here having a crisis.”
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