Just Like the Movies

by Natasha Preston

  God, I never thought I’d have to deal with something like this with my whole life scrutinised by anyone with a smartphone. And it’s going to happen for the rest of my life.

  “Jodie, how many people did you cater for?” I ask, looking at her rammed kitchen table.

  She smiles, her guilty eyes shining. “I got carried away. I wanted to make some of your favourites, but I think I ended up making all of them.”

  My shoulders slump, and I walk into her open arms. She holds me tightly.

  “Thank you,” I mutter and pull back. “For everything.”

  “You’re more than welcome. How are you feeling? Silly question... and one I ask too often.”

  I shake my head. “You don’t. It’s weird and it sucks but I’m not surprised this happened. They were gone long before they died.”

  She sighs like her heart is breaking. “I’m so sorry. You have a lot of people who love you very much and will be there for you. Always remember that.”

  “I do. I’m so grateful for you.”

  Family isn’t always blood. The people in this room—minus Sheila—I can count on. They are the ones who matter to me.

  “Is anyone going to dig in?” Brody asks.

  We look across to see Wren whacking him with the back of her hand.

  Scowling, he glares at her. “What was that?”

  “This is a wake! Your stomach can hold off for a little longer.”

  Laughing, I step towards them. “Guys, it’s fine. Brody, go for it. There’s so much food, you may as well get a head start.”

  He smirks at her before turning to me. “Thank you, Indie.”

  Wren folds her arms. “This is why I don’t take him out more places.”

  “Hey, I need him today. Jodie has catered for about fifty people, not eight.”

  “Are we opening the gin or what?” Mila asks, wrapping an arm around me, and one around Wren.

  Wren shakes her head. “Does anyone have any tact?”

  Mila’s expression is a surprised frown. “What? Indie promised.”

  “I’ll make them,” I say. “Mila’s measures will put us in the hospital.”

  “The recipe said a generous measure,” she defends.

  “Most people would do one and a half measures in that case—two, tops. Not a quarter of the bottle, Mila,” Wren says, playfully elbowing her.

  It was my first and last hangover. That was also the day where I understood my parents even less. Who would want to feel like that every day?

  Mila scoffs. “You two are such party poopers.”

  I laugh as I pour the gin. These girls are my sisters, and I love their crazy so much.

  “Shut up and drink your gin,” I tell her.

  The afternoon stretches. Sheila had a cup of tea and a plate of food. She left with a big tub of sausage rolls and satay chicken. I had two gins with my friends, and then we all switched to coffee. No one came here for a session. They might have had a couple more if my mum hadn’t been an alcoholic. I’ve noticed that Andrew and Jodie’s intake has dramatically decreased since I started staying here.

  Wren, Mila, and Brody leave in the early evening.

  I slump down on the sofa after helping tidy up, and Spencer sits beside me. He rests his elbow on the back of the sofa and strokes his fingers through my hair. “How are you really doing?”

  “I’m drained, and I miss her.” With a sigh, I confess, “For a second, I actually believed that she wanted to get better. I’ve not believed that since I was ten. Every time they told me they were getting clean, I’d nod along, knowing it wouldn’t happen. I really thought that Dad’s death would shake her enough to make that change. She went to rehab, Spence.”

  He pulls me onto his lap. I tuck my head under his chin and sigh. His heart beats steadily. It’s my most favourite sound. This man is everything. This is all I need.

  “I’m so sorry, baby. I wish they could have been better for you. I wish you didn’t have to go through everything you’ve dealt with your whole life. I’m so in awe of you and how you strong you are.”

  I’m tired of being strong.

  “Everything will be okay. You’re going to have the best career and the best life. I’ll make you happy every day. Whatever it takes.”

  I look up, and he smiles. His eyes are shining, only seeing me.

  “You are a miracle, Spencer Lowe.”

  I want to believe him, but how can our life be a bed of roses?

  We will have to share it with the world, whether we choose to or not.

  If I’m with him, I’ll never have privacy.

  Stop thinking.

  I tilt my head up, and his lips meet mine.

  Fifty-Two

  Spencer

  Three days after Jessica was buried, Indie started cleaning the house. We’re talking bottles and bottles of bleach, rubber gloves, and a lot of scrubbing. You could operate on any surface. She was on a mission, and no amount of pleading with her could get her to even take a break until it was done.

  So, I shut up, put some gloves on, and I got stuck in.

  A lot of her parents’ things have been donated—most of them, actually—but she’s kept a watch her dad owned as well as a necklace of her mum’s.

  She’s not stopped, and the house is almost empty of personal things now. It’s just bare walls, besides one family photo and her parents’ wedding picture. None of her mum’s ornaments have been kept.

  We’ve not spoken about it because that particular conversation is like walking a tightrope. All I’ve managed to get out of her is that she needs to get the house ‘sorted’. Sorted for what?

  She wouldn’t even entertain a conversation about me buying a house here. Since that particularly shit day where she cried and shouted when we first walked back in her place, I haven’t mentioned it again.

  I should, I know I should, but I’m too fucking scared in case she tells me she doesn’t want to share a home.

  What would I do then?

  It seems a bit dramatic to pick her up and carry her back to my cave.

  Although, I’m not above doing that when the time comes.

  My guess is that she wants to sell the house. I don’t even want to think about that fact that she could be making the house liveable for herself.

  Everything belongs to her now: the house, their unused car in the garage, the money in their bank. It’ll take a little while until it’s legally hers, but in the will her parents made years ago, she gets it all.

  I stand in the doorway to the kitchen as she scrubs the inside of the oven. It wasn’t dirty to begin with. My gloves are in the bin. I thought we’d finished.

  “Indie,” I say. “Babe, you’ve done that.”

  She looks over her shoulder. “Maybe I should get a new oven.”

  “There’s nothing wrong with that one.”

  “It’s old, and there’s this spot I can’t get out.”

  I approach with caution. The cleaning has been frantic. She’s almost chewed her lip off already, and now she wants to replace what’s left.

  I crouch down, a foot away from her.

  “Hey.” I trail my fingers down her back, and she lets out a sigh. “What’s going on?”

  “I just want to get the house clean, Spencer.”

  “It wasn’t dirty.”

  Her head turns back to the oven, then at me. “I can’t be here until the house is spotless.”

  “You don’t need to be in here at all.”

  “This is where I live.” Her voice is monotone, resigned.

  Oh fuck, here goes. “It doesn’t have to be.”

  “Spencer…”

  “No, hear me out. You can stay at mine for as long as you need. You can sell or rent this. Whatever you want.”

  Ethan would call me a pussy for not telling her I want to get a place that’s ours.

  One step at a time with her.

  We’ve already made giant leaps in the last few months. I have a whole year now so I can support her through her
grief, through sorting out all of the legalities with the will, and then maybe she’ll be ready to buy a house with me.

  I’ve waited years to get to this point. I can wait a little longer for a house, an engagement, marriage, and even more.

  “I appreciate the offer, and your parents are amazing, but this is my house. When it’s clean, I can stay here and focus on uni. I’m getting behind.”

  “You’re not.”

  “Yeah, I am. I’ve had time off to go to LA, when Dad died, detoxing Mum, and now her death. It’s too much, and I’ve lost focus. You really should call Denny and get that movie back.”

  I catch her chin as she moves to turn away from me. If she’s telling me that she won’t have much time for me, I’m going to need her to look me in the eye and do it.

  “I’m not going anywhere.”

  “Please don’t make this harder than it needs to be.”

  “Make what harder?”

  “I need time to catch up. My degree is important, I have exams this year, and I’m not ready.”

  “I’m not stopping you from making uni a priority. I’ll help you study for your exams.”

  Blowing out a short breath, she shakes her head. “Spencer.”

  “No. I don’t like where this is going. You don’t need to throw everything away because you’re a little behind.”

  “It’s all too much. There’s a lot I’m dealing with. I feel like my head is going to explode. For a while, I need to focus on myself. I can’t be Spencer Lowe’s girlfriend.”

  “Don’t say that,” I mutter, my heart dropping to the floor.

  Her eyes well, and she grips the handle of the oven. “Everything is too much, Spence.”

  Fuck, she’s trying to break up.

  “I can help with that. Don’t shut me out.”

  “It’s never going to be the way it was.”

  “What does that even mean?” I hear the desperation in my own voice.

  “I couldn’t be prouder of you, Spence. You’re an amazing actor and deserve the best. That’s not me. I’m not the one who can stand beside you while you rock the movie world. Right person, wrong time.”

  I open my mouth, but what the fuck am I supposed to say? There’s nothing I can do about the media. Sure, I can protect our privacy as much as possible, but it’s not fool proof.

  Things slip through the cracks. I can’t guarantee her anything.

  “Indie, listen to me…”

  “No, Spence, listen to me. I can’t do this.”

  “You’re scared right now, and I understand that, but I wouldn’t get in the way of uni. I’m so proud of you for acing your course and striving for a career. Why are you really doing this? I want the truth.”

  She opens her mouth, and I can tell from the frightened look in her eyes that she’s going to lie.

  “Don’t,” I tell her before she has chance. “Let me take a guess. You blame me for your mum’s death.”

  “I could never blame you for that. It wasn’t your fault.”

  I know I’m going to regret asking this. “But…?”

  Her face twists, like this conversation is physically hurting. It’s fucking killing me. “I can’t be in your world. It isn’t for me…”

  “I can fix that. I’ll get Denny on it. Gagging orders, NDA’s, we’ll sue everyone until they leave us alone. Indie, give me a chance to make this right.”

  “You can’t sue the whole world just for us.”

  My pulse races with panic. “I’d do a lot worse than that to keep you. Please think about this for a second. There is no wrong time for us.”

  “I’ve done nothing but think about this.” She tugs off the gloves and throws them into a bubbly bowl beside her.

  I rub my forehead. “I’ll quit acting.”

  “No. No way. Don’t even joke about that.” Her voice is laced with anger. How is that worse than us not being together? What the fuck is going on with her?

  “If you can’t handle that life then we’ll create another one.”

  “Not happening. You can’t… Spencer, acting is who you are. It’s in your blood, it’s what you need to do. We can’t be together if you give that up for me. That’s never happening.”

  I would give it up for her in a heartbeat.

  I curl my fingers into my palms. “Then what the fuck am I supposed to do here?”

  Her shoulders slump as if there’s nothing left. “Nothing. We’re not ever going to work. I’m sorry.”

  She whispers the last part and stands up, putting some distance between us.

  I stay crouched on the floor, trying to remember how to function.

  This can’t be the end.

  My mind spins. In every scenario I’ve thought of with Indie, not once did it end with us not being together.

  “I think you should go, Spencer.”

  She walks out of the room, leaving me crouched down, shattered on the floor.

  Fifty-Three

  Indie

  I’m hiding in my room, silently begging him not to come up here, but hoping with all my heart that he will.

  What have you done?

  I close my eyes and try to breathe through the unimaginable pain slicing through my chest.

  His car engine rumbles to life, and I hear him pull off my drive.

  Spencer Lowe.

  Love of my life.

  Gone.

  How can we go back to being friends now? We can’t. There’s no way I could be around him knowing what his mouth feels like against mine. I’ll never feel the leap of my heart when he tells me he loves me.

  All of it has gone.

  Losing him is the worst pain I’ve ever felt.

  The one person who loved me above everyone else.

  What is wrong with me? Why can’t I just suck it up and accept the invasive life that I would have with him? Maybe I could learn to live with that.

  It’s a big gamble. I’ve gone over and over it. Diving into a forever with Spencer and trying to ignore everything that’s posted about us… I’d rather we ended things loving each other than hating each other.

  No, I’ve made the right decision. Soon, I won’t feel like I’m dying.

  Pressing my lips together as the latest wave of pain and nausea passes, I push myself away from my wall and go to the window. Fuck’s sake, why am I so fucking broken?

  His car is no longer there.

  Will he go back to LA now?

  Maybe it’s not too late to get that new movie. He could call Denny.

  Or I could.

  I wipe my tears and slide the phone out of my pocket to find the message.

  Spencer was replying to his checking in text when his phone died. Now I have Denny’s number. He’ll probably be pissed that I interfered, but he deserves this movie. In the end, when he’s back in LA being adored, he’ll thank me for this.

  Indie: Hi, Denny. Indie here. Spencer’s circumstances have changed so I hope it’s not too late for End of the Road. Please keep this between us.

  I bite my lip as a tear rolls down my cheek. Writing the text feels like the end. He’ll leave, heal, and eventually we’ll just be a great memory. I hit send.

  Go get ‘em, Hollywood.

  I slump down on my bed and curl into a ball. Fisting the quilt, I bury my head in the pillow and sob.

  It begins to darken outside. I lay still in bed as if I’ll miraculously stop hurting if I don’t move. Losing Mum and Dad was awful, but nothing compares to this. Every breath is a struggle.

  I don’t want to do anything, not even uni work, and I really do need to catch up. I just can’t bring myself to care. Uni seems pointless. My parents are dead, anyway. I have nothing to run from anymore.

  I breath in, deep and ragged. My eyes are sore from crying. I have no problem shedding tears over Spencer.

  Because he is everything.

  I roll onto my side when I hear a knocking on my door.

  My heart leaps, and I scramble out of bed.

  He’s back.
<
br />   I want to run to the door and ignore it at the same time.

  Wiping my eyes, I walk downstairs with my heart fluttering.

  When I open that door and see him, how am I supposed to not jump into his arms. That’s the point.

  My breath catches when I open the door.

  Oh.

  Mila smiles. “What have you done, babe?”

  My shoulders slump.

  “Can we come in?” Wren asks.

  I nod. “He called you?”

  Mila walks in the house. “Of course, he did. He’s broken, and doesn’t know what to do.”

  “I had no choice.”

  Wren gives me a hug. “What happened? Things were good between you, or so I thought.”

  They follow me into the living room. I don’t even care about being in here now. I sit on the sofa, and Wren closes the blinds.

  “Indie?” Mila prompts, sitting next to me.

  Wren takes a seat opposite, on Dad’s side of the room.

  “I’m not cut out to live in his world. I’m a private person, and eventually he’d get bored of constantly protecting me.” He’s taken so many calls recently, fighting fires to protect me. I shake my head and curl my arms around my legs. “That’s not fair on him. He’s worked so hard to get where he is. He should be able to enjoy it.”

  “You think he’ll be able to enjoy it at all without you?” Wren asks.

  “Eventually, yes. He gave up a movie he really wanted because I was falling apart. He’ll keep doing that… said himself that he’d quit altogether if I don’t want to be in the spotlight. How could I ever let him do that?”

  Mila’s shoulder fall. She came here to fight his corner, but she knows I’m right.

  When you love someone more than anything in the world, you don’t let them give up their dream.

  “I couldn’t handle knowing I’d taken something so important away from him.”

  “Indie, you’ve taken you away from him. That’s way worse,” Mila says.

  Wren and I both look at her.

  “Sorry, I’ll go with tough love if I have to. I’m not saying I don’t understand where you’re coming from, but this isn’t the answer. Have you even asked if he minds taking care of your privacy? I bet the answer is no. Sure, he’s going to be watched, so fighting that is going to be part of it, whether you’re with him or not. There’ll be moments in his life he wants to keep private, too.”