The movie wraps up within a month without any more real contact between us. I come to work. Put on the clothes that Chloe chooses for me. Say my lines and go home. I try to approach her a number of times again, but each time I get a cold and sullen reception. It starts to feel like I’m stalking her, so I back off.

But my feelings for Chloe don’t subside. When I hear from my agent that I’m going to be People Magazine’s Sexiest Man Alive, it is her who I want to call first. When I go looking at houses in Malibu, it is Chloe who I want to bring with me. I can’t get her out of my head. Yet, I can’t convince her to give me another chance.

On the last day of our shooting, Chloe isn’t there. I go to her trailer to get my clothes, but she’s nowhere to be found. No one knows where she is, and she didn’t call in sick. Luckily, everyone’s outfits are labeled and organized, and we are able to get dressed and shoot our scene as we had planned.

Around lunchtime, Martha gets a phone call. When she hangs up, her face turns white.

“What’s wrong?” I ask, taking a bite of my lentil and cucumber salad.

“Chloe has been in a car accident.”

“What?” I ask, choking on my food.

“That was her sister. She said she doesn’t know much, but it sounds bad. She’s on her way to Cedar Sinai now.”

I drop my plate on the table and get up.

“I have to go.”

“What? Now?”

“I have to go, I’m sorry.”

“But we just have one more scene to shoot. We should be done by the afternoon.”

I think about this for a moment. My mind says that it’s fine. I should just finish up the day, then go see her, but my gut says something completely different. “I know. And I’m terribly sorry. But I just have to go there. I have to see if she’s okay,” I say.

They can’t shoot the scene without me. Everyone will have to go home until tomorrow, but there’s just no way around it. Something you just have to do.

I arrive at the hospital in record time. I find Lila in the emergency room. She’s sitting curled up in a ball in one of the chairs. Her head is buried in her knees and her arms are wrapped tightly around them.

“Lila?”

She looks up. Her eyes are watery. Her face is deep red. She has been crying.

“Finn?” she asks. “What are you doing here?”

“I came as soon as I heard. How is she?”

Lila shakes her head. “Not good. She’s in surgery. They say that she’s got swelling. That she might be in a coma. I don’t know. They used all of these medical terms, I didn’t really understand.”

“What happened?” I ask.

“I’m not really sure,” she shakes her head.

What they don’t tell you about emergency rooms, and hospitals in general, is that every minute in there feels like a century, and every hour feels like a lifetime. I buy Lila coffee and some candy from the vending machine, but the sugar just makes it worse. I start to feel jumpy and even more out of control. A few hours later, a couple of police officers show up to talk to the doctors. They tell Lila that the person who was driving was drunk. In addition to hitting Chloe, he also slammed into a car with a family. Everyone in that car is dead.

Lila breaks down when she tells me this. She’s completely inconsolable, and all I can do is wrap my arms around her and tell her that it’s going to be okay.

“Do you promise?” she mumbles into my chest.

“What?”

“Do you promise that Chloe is going to be okay?” Lila looks up into my eyes.

“Yes, I promise,” I say. “I know she’s going to be okay.”

Delivering those words is the hardest acting job I’ve ever done. I know what she wants to hear. It’s something that the medical professionals aren’t able to offer her. So, I’m the one she relies on.

Another hour passes. I go down to the cafeteria and wander around. Random people stop me and ask to take pictures with me. At first, I try to say no, but after a while I give up. They’re here for someone too. If this makes them feel even a little bit better, why not? The only thing I can’t muster is a smile. Afterwards, every single person asks me why I’m here. I tell them that a friend has been in a bad car accident. They promise to pray for me and tell me where the chapel is. I’m not a religious person, but three hours later, after making another round of the hospital to stretch my legs, I find myself in front of the chapel. I open the door quietly. There’s no one inside. It’s dark and cool. No bright, obtrusive fluorescent lights in here. I find a seat in the back and just sit there for a while. I close my eyes. I think about Chloe. I think about every moment that we had shared together. I think about how much she made me laugh, how little time we had together and how whatever time we had together, I wasted on lying to her about something so incredibly inconsequential that it’s ridiculous.

“She’s out of surgery,” Lila says after I come back to the waiting area. “She’s stable now. But she’s in a coma.”

“A coma?” I ask. She had mentioned it before, but a big part of me didn’t think it was real. Or possible.

“What does that mean?” I ask.

She shrugs. “I don’t really know.”

I look at Lila’s face. She looks like she’s about to cry again, but no tears come out. She is spent.

I hand Lila another cup of coffee. I no longer have to ask her if she wants cream or sugar in it. After so many hours in this place, I know exactly what she likes. Black coffee, no cream, no sugar. She likes peanut and plain M&M’s and hates crispy M&M’s. She doesn’t care for snickers or any kind of sour candy.

“The cops were back again,” she says taking a sip. “Apparently, that drunk asshole who hit her and that family is fine. Only a broken arm. But they’re arresting him. Vehicular manslaughter.”

“Good,” I say.

“Why does it have to be that way? He was the one drinking and driving. And yet, it’s Chloe and that dead family that has to suffer. He killed an entire family! The mom, dad, and two kids. I can’t even imagine! And Chloe, my sweet Chloe, she’s in a coma now. Because of him. And he’s fine! Only a broken arm. What the hell is wrong with the world?”

I put my arm around her shoulder, but she pushes me off. She’s no longer in shock. Now she’s angry. I’m angry with her.

“I’m going to get some air,” she says and walks off.

Suddenly, my phone rings. I had completely forgotten about it. Its vibration inside my front pocket feels foreign and confusing.

“Hi, Martha,” I answer it. I tell her everything I know about Chloe’s status. She listens carefully, saying ‘I’m sorry,’ over and over.

“So what’s going to happen now?” she asks after I’m done.

“I don’t really know. I guess they’re going to let us go and see her sometime soon. But she’s in a coma. And I have no idea when she’s going to come out of it.”

“This is terrible. Drunk driver, huh?” she asks.

“Yeah, and get this. He’s totally fine. Killed a family. Put Chloe in this place. Only has a broken arm. At least they arrested him.”

“Yes, at least there’s that,” Martha says. Neither of us says anything for a while. Then it hits me. She wants something from me.

“Martha, this isn’t the only reason you’re calling, is it?” I ask.

“No, I am calling to check on Chloe,” she says quickly.

I wait for her to find the right words.

“But since you’d brought it up…yes, there was something else. We only have one more scene left, Finn, and we can’t do it without you. It should only take four or five hours, tops. And then everyone can go home.”

I nod. She’s right, of course. Even though it seems callous and incredibly selfish at this time, the movie isn’t going to be finished without me.

“What about tomorrow morning?” I ask. “I’m going to stay here tonight, but I can come in the morning.”

“Yes, yes, that will be perfect. Thank you so much, Finn. And I’m going to come over tonight and see her.”

“There’s really no need to come tonight,” I say. “I’m not even sure if they’re going to let me in, because I’m not family.”

“Finn, I hate to be a broken record, but I really am sorry about this. If there’s anything that I or we can all do for her, just let us know. Please.”

“I will. I’ll see you tomorrow,” I say and hang up the phone.

As I suspected, they do not let me go inside to see Chloe. They don’t want to disturb her. They don’t even let Lila in until 5 a.m. the following morning.

She comes out a couple of hours later to get some breakfast.

“How is she?” I run up to her. Lila staggers a bit, startled.

“What are you still doing here?”

“Just waiting. It’s a waiting room. What else is there to do here?”

“Finn, you should go home. Honestly. Get some sleep.”

“I have to be at work in an hour. How is she?”

“She’s horrible. Her face is all bandaged up. She has all of these tubes coming in and out of her. And she’s in a coma. It’s like she’s not even there, Finn.”

I take a deep breath.

“Do you think they’ll let me see her later? I have to go to work now, but I’ll be back in the afternoon.”

“If they don’t, I will,” she says. “I don’t want to go sit there all by myself.”

“Okay,” I say giving her a warm hug. “You stay strong, Lila. It’s going to be okay.”