by Karina Halle
“Alyssa,” he says, lowering his voice, “we’re not an actual couple, you know. I don’t have to tell you everything.”
Oh my god. Ow.
OW.
I can’t help but wince at his words.
He sighs. “I didn’t mean it to come out so harsh,” he says. “I just…I don’t know, I’ve been thinking about it and that’s it really.”
“But you think you might have to leave Boomerang.”
“I know I will. My contract with them is only so long. It’s up pretty soon and from the way people have been talking and the way the scripts are going, the ratings, I don’t think I’ll be there for much longer. And it’s fine. For once, it’s truly fine. This is a good thing.”
“Yeah, for you.”
“Why not for you? Nothing changes. We’ll still fulfill our contract, you’ll still get your money. Don’t worry.”
“Yeah but…,” I trail off. But it’s not about the money. It’s about you.
Ah, shit. I’m thinking back to my conversation with Jackie last night and how carried away I was getting thinking there was more to us than there is. This is a perfect example of the fact that everything so far has just been in my head, wishful thinking.
I put on a brave, completely fake, smile. “I guess if I still get paid, that’s all that matters. I wouldn’t have wanted all of this to be for nothing.”
If my words hurt him in any way, he doesn’t show it. “You know, it wasn’t until I met you that I had the courage to realize what I really wanted. I think going back to my passion is the right thing to do. Maybe some people will say it’s failure or that I’m moving backwards, but I don’t see it that way.”
Well that’s good for you. You’ll move forwards, backwards, wherever, but it’s going to be without me.
He warned me. He really did.
“Come on,” he says to me, grabbing my hand. “I’ve had enough of this cockamamie place. We should probably go check on Jackie and Will, make sure she hasn’t drowned him or anything. Man, I haven’t seen a woman so easily affected by hanger before in my life.”
I nod absently and let him lead me out of the winery. When we’re back in the sunshine and strolling down the road back to the cabin, he still doesn’t let go of my hand.
“The sky here is so blue,” he says, staring up. “You must have loved growing up here. Fucking eh, it would have been so hot in the middle of summer but with having that lake right there I bet it was just bliss.”
“Yeah,” I say quietly, so confused. So, so confused.
He looks to me, tilting his head. “Are you okay?”
You might move back to London and you didn’t even tell me!
“Yeah,” I give him a big smile. “I’m fine. I guess I’m just taking it all in.”
“Would you ever move back here?” he asks me.
“Maybe to settle down.”
“Oh really. And who does Alyssa Martin see herself settling down with here? A winemaker?”
“Who knows,” I tell him honestly. Maybe he would have played one on TV.
Chapter 17
Alyssa
“Baby!” My mother cries out, throwing open her arms and practically running down the path to see me.
Before I can even say hello, she’s scooping me up in her arms. My mother has gotten skinnier and I swear shorter over time, so much so that I resemble a giant fluffy pillow next to her, but somehow, she’s still strong, like freakishly strong. Like, she might just bench-press me, I don’t know.
“Oh, you look so lovely,” she says once she pulls back and examines my face. “No need for Botox yet either.”
I roll my eyes. My mother is extremely vain, probably brought on by the fact that my father was a philandering dickhead. I’m pretty lucky though that by the time I was born, she didn’t care so much about appearances. Not like she did with my sisters. They all got the brunt of it, which is probably why they all went off and married so young. It was pretty much what they were conditioned to do.
“And here is the rest of the gang,” she says, letting me go and turning her sights to Emmett, Jackie and Will.
She goes to Emmett first, sauntering over to him and wagging her finger. “I know you from all the pictures in the magazines. I have to say, you’re a lot more handsome in person. In the pictures you look kind of, I don’t know, gay I guess.”
“Mom!” I cry out, completely embarrassed.
“Well that’s what happens when you do gay porn,” Emmett jokes.
“Emmett!” Now I’m admonishing him. “She’ll take you seriously.”
“Oh, come now, I know when people are joking,” my mother says. “And don’t get me wrong, if you were gay Emmett, I wouldn’t have a problem with it. For all I know, this could be one of those beard relationships, you know. Like with George Clooney.”
“What about George Clooney?” Jackie asks in a shocked whisper.
My mother dismisses her with a wave of her hand. “Oh, you should hear what the girls at the beauty parlor say. I’m telling you, if you want to know the inside scoop on things, you go down to Barbara’s on third street and you’ll get all caught up. Of course, they had stuff to say about you, Emmett. I do have to wonder if it’s true.”
“Like what?” Emmett asks but I detect fear in his voice. I’d forgotten how overbearing my mother can be when she first meets people. It will take her a few hours to calm down.
“They say you’re a playboy, you know. Always with a flavor of the month, until you met my Alyssa, of course. Which does make me wonder, what could she possibly offer you that the other girls couldn’t? More of her to love, I suppose.”
“Oh my god,” I mutter, rubbing my palm into my forehead. “Make it stop.”
“It’s okay,” Emmett says to me. “It’s a fair statement. I guess I liked to have some fun, no harm in that, but when you meet the right person, nothing else really seems to matter anymore.”
His words sound more flippant than serious, so I’m trying not to let my heart get carried away again.
“They also say you like to get in fights. I heard you were arrested in LA. I have to say, good for you. I like a man who can fight for what’s right.” She’s smiling and then suddenly stops. “But if you really do turn out to be an asshole to my Alyssa here, I’ll be the one fighting you, so don’t even think about it. I know your type.”
Emmett looks both insulted and scared.
I try to give him an apologetic smile and then point to Jackie and Will who have been standing behind me this whole time, wide-eyed and open-mouthed.
“And these are my friends Jackie and Will,” I tell her wearily.
“Oh, Will the boss,” my mother says, fixing her attention on him now. “My, you’re a handsome one too. I suppose I should thank you for keeping my daughter employed for this long, I know what a pain in the ass she can be.”
“Yes, she is, but we love her anyway,” Will answers with a wide smile. “I suspect she gets her tenaciousness from you, though.”
“You have no idea,” she says with a wink and then starts back to the house, waving her hands in the air for us to follow, her bracelets jangling.
I let out a heavy sigh. I think I forgot to breathe that entire time.
Jackie looks at me, shaking her head while biting back laughter and then pushes me toward the house.
This isn’t the house that I grew up in. My mother had that until I left home and then promptly sold it. This place is a small two-bedroom, located far up on the hills above town. It’s at the end of a cul-de-sac too so it’s extra isolated and has beautiful views of the town and both lakes. I worry about her living alone all the way up here–though my mother acts bossy and tough, she’s really quite fragile at heart–but she’s stubborn and says she’s going to stay here until she dies or she gets bored. Whatever comes first.
Because the house and property are small–the backyard is just a slice of yellowed grass and porch before it drops off down ragged clay cliffs and gullies–there is
n’t much of a tour. Thankfully my mother has already prepared dinner for us, so there isn’t a lot of sitting around and having small talk.
We eat in the narrow dining room, my mother at the head of the table, and she calls us to say grace before we feast on her famous lasagna recipe. My mother has never said grace a day in her life, so I think she just decided to do it for the sake of Emmett.
Then I know it’s true when she tells him she hopes it reminded him of growing up.
“Come again?” Emmett asks as she passes him a dish.
“After your mother died, you were raised by your aunt, were you not? She was very religious and you went to church a lot.”
I exchange a look with everyone else. How did my mother know this?
“Don’t look so shocked, dear,” she says to me. “I told you I know all the dirt.”
Emmett clears his throat, looking uncomfortable. “You’re right. She was religious, we did say grace a lot.”
“Such a shame what happened to your mother, you poor boy.”
“Mom,” I warn her, though I’m practically whining. What is it about being with your parents for five minutes that turns back the clock to when you were a petulant teenager?
“Oh, come now. He’s your boyfriend, sweetie. There are no secrets here. If he wants to know about everything your terrible father did to us, he’s welcome to it. There’s no shame in it, it’s just the reality. Everyone has something, don’t they?” She looks at Will and Jackie. “You’re both the perfect looking couple, but he’s far older than you. I bet that caused problems at some point.”
Will and Jackie look at each other, brows raised. My mother doesn’t even know the half of it.
“I’m not ashamed,” Emmett speaks up. “It’s all true. And it was horrible. And…it’s caused problems. In my personal life. In my professional life.”
Now we’re all watching Emmett. It sounds like he’s about to go into confession time. I don’t want him to say anything he doesn’t want to though, not for the sake of my nosy mother because she’s putting him on the spot.
“But as you say, that’s the reality, isn’t it?” Emmett goes on. “And the truth is that it’s taken a lot for me to realize what’s real and what’s not. Being an actor, you’re used to living in the grey zone, the space where you start to believe your own lies.”
At that he looks at me. And it hurts. It hurts because I feel like I know what he’s trying to say.
That we’re a lie. We’re a lie that he started to believe.
And now he’s realizing that it’s nothing more.
Even though it’s absolutely everything to me.
I swallow hard, my pulse kicking against my veins, preparing for the worst.
“That’s probably why you like my Alyssa,” my mother says delicately. “She’s very honest. Just like me. She’ll tell you the truth. She’s not your fake Hollywood actress or flavor of the month. She’s real.”
A small smile tugs at Emmett’s lips. His eyes soften as he stares at me.
“She is real,” he says, his voice low. “She is the most real thing in my life. Honestly, I don’t know what I’d do without her. What I do know is that I am deeply, madly and ridiculously in love with her.”
Beside me, Jackie gasps and kicks me under the table.
But I can’t feel anything at all.
Because it’s all a lie.
It’s a lie I want so desperately to believe.
“I tell her this all the time,” he goes on, and each word is like a kick in the teeth, “how much she means to me, how much I love her. Sometimes I don’t think she hears me, or knows it, but it’s true. She has my heart and always will. And there is nothing more real than that.”
The worst part of this all is the way he’s saying it.
With so much passion and conviction and disarming tenderness that it’s rendering me stupid. It’s fileting me apart. It feels so fucking good to hear him say this.
And the reality of it all, of how cruel this is, is too much to take.
“Will you excuse me,” I say and abruptly get to my feet, leaving the table.
I don’t know why but the urge to cry and run and scream has taken over.
I’ve got to get out of here.
I head straight out of the house and up a ragged path that skirts the hill. I’m gulping for air, the sagebrush and desert shrubs pulling at my dress as I walk.
Everything inside me feels hollow and sick and I keep rubbing my chest, my stomach, trying to make the feeling go away, the horrible, misleading, teasing feeling that keeps building and building.
I know I shouldn’t have left, I should have just stared back at Emmett and given him the fake smile and gone on pretending as I have.
But I’m so fucking tired of pretending.
I don’t want to do it anymore.
I’m so close to the end but being with Emmett in this way is starting to kill me.
“Alyssa.”
And there’s his voice.
I figured someone would have come to check on me, but I thought it would have been Jackie. I wanted it to be Jackie.
Instead it’s him.
I stop and turn around and see him approaching me, his eyes wild and filled with concern.
“What happened?” he asks me. “Back there, what happened?”
I shrug. “Wasn’t feeling well.”
He grabs my arm, his eyes growing more intense by the second. “Why are you lying to me?”
“Why are you lying at all!” I yell at him. “Why did you have to tell my mother that?!”
“Because I wanted her to see that you were happy. That you had someone. And that I wasn’t like your father.”
“But you are like my father!”
He balks at that, frowning, pissed off. And rightfully so. “What? Do you have any idea how insulting it is to hear you keep saying that? Look, I don’t know your dad but it’s more than unfair to keep comparing us.”
I can’t help it, even though I know he’s right.
“Do you want me to be like that?” he asks. “Do you want me to be the player, the playboy, the manwhore? Is that the box you want to put me in?”
I shake my head, wrapping my arms around my chest. “No.”
He places his body so he’s right in front of me. “Because I’ll tell you one thing,” he says. “The more you tell someone what they are, the more they’ll believe it.”
I glare at him. “Is that a threat?”
“Fucking hell, Alyssa? Why does everything have to be so complicated with you?”
“Because I’m complicated!” I yell. “You’re complicated. We’re complicated. Okay?”
“Okay,” he says, placing both hands on my shoulders and wrangling me in place. “Okay, so we’re in a complicated situation. But if you just…talk to me, tell me how you feel.”
“Why?” I cry out. “Why would I tell you how I feel? What good would that do?”
“Because I care about you,” he says. “So much. I want to know how you feel and I especially want to know how you feel about me.”
“Why? You decided you may go back to London and you didn’t even tell me.”
He closes his eyes and exhales loudly. “Look, that was just…I was just thinking. And I didn’t tell you because I didn’t want to scare you. I don’t know what you want. And to be honest, I am not used to being in a relationship. I’m not used to the way it works, to sharing my life with people.”
“But this isn’t even a real relationship.”
“You keep saying that,” he says bitterly. “And the more you say it, the more I think that’s what you want. That you’re trying to convince yourself that it’s been fake from the start.”
“I don’t know what’s real!” I cry out.
“I’m real,” he says. He takes my hand and places it on his chest. “My heart is real. What I feel for you is real. It always has been. Only the formalities have been fake. But every single word I’ve said to you, in public or not, has never
been a lie.”
I try to swallow the lump in my throat but I can’t. “What about what you said back there. To my mother. About me.”
His mouth lifts, a soft smile. “It wasn’t a lie. That was real.” He puts his palm to my cheek, rests his forehead against mine. “I love you.”
Everything inside me dissolves.
I’m both floating and drowning and flying all at once, my heart pulled into so many directions that I don’t even know how I feel.
“I love you,” he goes on, his voice choked with emotion, “I love you and it’s terrifying the shit out of me, because I’ve never loved without losing before, but I love you. It’s the most real thing I’ve ever felt in my life. And I know that no matter what happens, I’m not going to let go of it.” He pauses, runs his thumb over my lips. I’m absolutely breathless. “I don’t want to put any pressure on you either. You don’t have to say a word. But I can’t let you go on thinking that what we have isn’t the one true thing. Passion over performance, remember? There’s only passion here. Only truth. Only you and only me.”
Tell him you love him. Tell him you love him.
But for some reason, I can’t even speak.
I’m just so damn overwhelmed with it all.
I’m free-falling so far off that cliff that I don’t know what side is up.
“Emmett,” I whisper to him, my fingers digging into his shirt. “I…”
“Don’t say it,” he says. “Just feel it.”
Feel it and be free.
He kisses me softly. “Let’s go back to the dinner. I think your mom is worried sick.”
I nod, almost dizzy from it all. I manage to swallow. “Yeah. Yeah…sorry about her.”
He laughs gently. “She’s quite the handful. I can see where you got all your thorns and prickles from. Armor against her.”
“Pretty much,” I tell him.
He loves me.
He loves me!
Now it’s starting to sink in for real.
Now I can’t stop smiling.
I let out a soft laugh, staring at Emmett with new eyes.
Every single cell inside me is warm and glowing. I’m made of a million sunbursts.