I don't understand why the small conference room is almost empty, or why they brought us here. Fishing into my purse for the phone, I read the email again, eyeballing the extra chairs, coffee, and cups waiting on the table.

Special guest, 9:00 a.m. We'll be discussing how to move the film forward with a new Miles Black, plus some surprising news.

It's such a brief note, and it doesn't sound much like one Emmie would send out, the lead assistant who does the scheduling for Pierce and crew. I'm still standing when I hear the door open behind me, five minutes earlier than I expect, knowing how many late stragglers come into these meetings.

I do a turn, and my jaw hits the floor.

It's Hayden Shaw. Plus another man it takes me several seconds to recognize, until I remember the old photos in the house, and the two times he visited near the holidays. Grant, the eldest, in all his high end lumbersexual glory, wealth and ruggedness colliding in a way that's almost as handsome as Luke's hard edge.

As handsome as he used to be, I mean. I hate him now, I have to keep telling myself. Almost as much as the two persistent idiots taking up the same space in this room.

“Robin, have a seat. Please. We need to talk.” He goes to the head of the table and pulls out a chair.

“Holy shit, no. I'm out of here.” I turn, and start heading for the door, but Grant steps in front of it, blocking the entire frame with his huge body.

“Cooperate, and this won't take long. We're just waiting for one more person to get this show going,” Grant says.

Sit the fuck down, his expression says. I march back limply toward the chair Hayden holds out for me, wondering how fast I can humor them before I get a chance to call the police.

I'm not even in the seat ten seconds when the door opens again. Grant steps out of the way, making way for the woman who stops dead in her tracks when she's several feet in, a bewildered look on her face.

“Mom?!” We're both deer in the headlights. “Okay, what the hell is going on here?”

“Please have a seat, Mrs. Plomb. I'm afraid this isn't quite the reception the email promised for your firm's clients, but you're sworn to the truth as an attorney. Cooperate, and I promise, you just might keep your license.”

“Hell no.” Mom makes a dead run for the door, and runs smack into the big man's chest. He isn't moving.

“Hayden, the tape,” Grant says. “Get it going now.”

“You're going to step away and let my daughter and I out of here this instant, you wretched man, or I'll see to it personally you're both sharing a cell with your freak of a brother!”

Hayden isn't listening. He pulls out his phone, taps a few keys, and the slim TV mounted to the ceiling corner flickers to life. The low res, grainy footage isn't easy on my eyes at first, but I can hear the audio much better.

“Why so much overtime, Ms. Plomb? This library doesn't even have a speck of dust...” the older man in the distinguished suit on screen can't be anyone except the dead senior Shaw. And the woman next to him, sitting on his desk with her eyelashes fluttering and her legs crossed, is my mother, five years younger.

The entire world comes to a stop. Everything except the insane, disgusting scene unfolding on the screen, ending in their wretched kiss as he hikes up her skirt, bends her over, and shoves himself inside her.

Very willingly. Without a shred of sadness, fear, or disgust in mom's eyes.

“Off. For fuck's sake, turn it off!” Her voice comes out hoarse, a whisper rubbed raw by a truth I'm afraid to call out. “Robbi...”

She turns away from Grant, walks toward me, and reaches out. I get over my fear. I throw myself back against the wall so hard it hurts when the chair slams into it, before I'm on my feet, a pointed finger in her face.

“Don't. All those years, pretending you were some innocent victim, bribed and blackmailed to do things with him against your will...” I can't go on. The bitter lump in my throat chokes me.

It's like watching an older, corrupted version of myself in a demented mirror as the tears start rolling down her cheeks, hotter and angrier than mine. “This isn't what it looks like, I swear!”

“Ericka, stop,” Hayden says, icy anger creeping into his voice. “Have a seat. Tell your daughter the truth. That was the first time you ever slept with my dad. First of many. We've gone through the rest of the footage during the time you worked there. Always shows you two prowling around the house like a couple horny teenagers. Not one time did you ever tell him to stop. He was drunk and crude plenty, sure, but did he force anything? Video says no. You never talked money, either, except when he gave you an extra bonus.”

“Lies,” mom says, hiding her face in her palms, shaking her head violently. “Awful, awful lies! Why the hell are you doing this?”

“We want Luke set free, and the record cleared. You can do that with a statement to the judge,” Grant says, growling his words. “We don't give a shit about shaming you over the stupid affair you had with our old man, and then lying about it. We want the truth. This was the only way you'd even think about telling Robbi what happened that day.”

Breathe, I tell myself. Right now, it's a chore. If you can't do it for you, do it for the baby.

“You're holding me here then as your prisoner?” My mother snaps. “God. You Shaws are stupider than I even thought. Robin, come on, help me get out of here. We're leaving this place and marching straight to the nearest police station. We're going to tell them exactly what kind of sick games you're –“

“No, shut up!” I'm in her face, my finger stabbing at her chest, blood running so hot it's hard to form words. “Mom, just shut up.”

“Robin, I...” She's silent. Lost for words. No longer wounded, but deflated.

“As for you two,” I look past her to Grant, and then Hayden. “Please. Step outside. Let me talk to her alone. I'll deal with this.”

The two strong brothers share a look. After a second, Hayden walks toward his bearded sibling, and they head for the door. “We'll be right outside,” he says.

I wait to hear the door click shut. Then I let my anger loose on the psycho standing in front of me, pouring betrayal out my eyes, and into hers. “You lied to me. You sent him to jail over nothing.”

“Honey, no! You saw what he did to me with your own eyes. They've got you confused. You're doubting it because of this stupid five year old footage they probably had pieced together by a video editor?”

She can't stop. I don't know if it's a sickness or just pure evil.

“You're still doing it,” I say, my own disbelief straining my throat. I can't comprehend why she's like this. “What kind of person are you? What the hell is wrong with you?”

The light in her dark eyes becomes a pinprick. “I'm the victim, and nobody cares. Do you really think I had it easy, living with your father while he pickled his brain drinking? It didn't magically start as soon as we got jobs with Mr. Shaw. It was going on a long time, and I hid it. I became a human shield to protect you.”

My stomach gurgles. I can't even look at her, so I turn away, pacing the room, trying to find the right combination of words to touch her basic humanity, if she has any.

“I never asked you for anything,” I say, meeting her angry eyes. “After everything that happened, after everything you told me about the Shaws, I had to claw back every piece of my life. I thought I finally had weeks ago, when we were happy. He clicked back into my life like the missing piece. Now, I see what I've really been missing – the truth. Everything that never made sense about what happened to us.”

“Robin –“ The way she says my name tells me another lie is coming, and it's probably a doozy.

“No! You're not leaving this room until I find out what really happened with Luke. I knew he wasn't a violent man.” I'm in her face again, whispering demands. “Please. Just tell me the truth. I want to hear it from you.”

“I couldn't let him take you. Couldn't let him use you, throw you away, turn you against me after he told you about his father and I.” She breaks eye contact, looking at the floor, and I wonder if she's feeling shame for the first time in her life. “Yes, I set him up. I hit myself in the face. Chewed fake blood to make it look worse than it really was.”

I thought I was ready. Hearing this...this lunacy rips open a whole new chasm in my heart. I stagger back, catch myself against the table, and try my damnedest not to cry.

It's impossible. I'm shaking my head again when I look at her, trying to process what will never make sense. “Why, mom, why?”

“Because I can't, and I won't, let you think I'm a monster. I made mistakes, and maybe I did some underhanded things. But I did them all for you, Robin. I wanted better for you so you'd never, ever have to play with dirty, wretched men like Frank Shaw just to get ahead. I wanted you to succeed so you'd never be tempted by their power like I was, so you'd never have a miserable marriage driving you into a devil's arms. I wanted him to stay the hell away from you, and I decided to make it happen. I did wrong, but I did it for a good reason. I won't apologize for anything except hurting you.”

“Apology?” I look up, wrinkling my nose. The sour taste in my mouth won't go away. “You really think that's what I'm asking for?”

Her eyes stare, dumb and blank. So much for the humanity, the shame, or any basic understanding of just how wicked she's been.

“Mom, you're going to do exactly what Hayden and Grant said. We're going to sit down at this table, and you're going to write a statement. I want a second one for the studio and the press, too. What you've done...there is no forgiveness. I won't even think about it until we've cleared his name.”

“Cleared him? And throw away everything I've worked for?” She turns her head up, crazier than ever. “Robin, no. I'll go to jail before I get out of the way, and let that wicked man hurt you.”

“I'm not asking, mom. You're going to sit down and write it out, and then we're going to find you a shrink. You put the love of my life in jail over your own fucking ego. I'm not some fragile angel, and you're no martyr.”

“Wow.” The bitch tone is back in her voice. “So, that's the thanks I get? After everything I did? You wouldn't have even gotten a second chance with that selfish, screwed up bastard if I hadn't paid your way through acting school!”

“But I did, and now I know the truth. There's no going back, mom.” We share an icy look. New hurt fills my head, the realization I'm not getting anywhere, trying to reason with her.

“I guess you'll have to turn on your own mother to stop me, then.” Her eyes say she isn't joking. Yes, she's really this crazy, daring me to block the door.

Time to play my last card. “You'll stop, if you ever want to see me or your future grandbaby again.”

She stops mid-step, heading for the door, and whips her head around. “Grandbaby? What?”

I smile through the pain. “That's right. Luke gave me a gift before you sent him to prison. I'm several weeks pregnant. Not how we meant it to happen, but you're more insane than I already think if you believe I'm not happy about this. I'll wait with our baby while he's in jail, however long it takes. And I'll make damned sure it's a lonely wait for both of us. Whether you help or not, he'll be free one day, and you've got the rest of your life to look forward to without me or the baby if you keep going.”

Walking past her, it's my turn to head for the room, hiding my latest hot tears. I hear her behind me when she breaks.

“Robin, wait!” Mom calls after me, but I'm not stopping.

My hand is on the doorknob before she catches my shoulder, frantically pulling me backward. “You can't do this. You can't take away my family – it's all I ever cared about!”

“Then prove it by listening for once, instead of being a completely crazy, self-righteous bitch.”

Game on. We stare through each other. I watch my hateful gaze sink deeper in her eyes, turning them darker.

There's no response. With a heavy sigh, I throw her hand off my shoulder, and move back to the door.

Mom whimpers, dropping to her knees, tears sliding down her cheeks. “Don't do this to me, Robbi. Don't make me choose. Please.”

Her hands are clasped. Begging. It's a sight to behold, terrible and unexpected, and not what I want.

I have to free Luke. Nothing else matters.

“I can't be alone! Christ, don't you get it?” She bangs her fists on the floor. “All those years ago, the reason why I got tangled up with Frank, why I was willing to put everything on the line for you...”

She isn't making sense. I look at her, folding my arms, refusing to hide the scorn in my expression.

“Danny and his drinking destroyed me. I had you young, and married the wrong man. We never had much money. There wasn't time for friends, or parties, or trips across the country to see what little family we had. You think I'm a monster, driven by hate, but it's the loneliness, honey. You were all I ever had. I'm so, so alone in this world. Make it worse, and I'll die. Is that what you want?”

Oh, guilt trip time. Good thing I've had my fill of her bullshit.

“I want you to do what's right, instead of whining about how hard you had it. You drone on and on, blaming dad. He had his issues, yes, but he's gone. Whatever he did, he didn't force you into another man's bed. Luke told me about his father's drinking, too. I can't believe I didn't see it before. You traded a poor drunk for a rich one, and then played innocent when he didn't want you anymore. You never got over it. Frankly, you're horrible, and I'm seriously wondering if I should ever let you see us again even if you do what's right.”

She lowers her face, shocked into silence, several more large tears dripping down her cheeks. “You're right, and it kills me to say it. Maybe I need this. Maybe I need to be cut off, locked away, kept from your beautiful baby so I don't corrupt it.”

“It isn't like that,” I say, right before I realize she's playing me again. Trying to make me feel like the guilty one. My teeth sink into my lower lip.

I'm not sure why I'm still wasting my time. I need to go, get with the Shaws waiting outside, and figure out how we're going to free Luke without her help.

“I don't know what to do, baby,” she whimpers. “I don't know, but I can't be alone. Please. I'll see a doctor, and work through this, if it gives me a second chance.”

Second chances. She hits an ache deep in my gut, the very thing that brought me here because I found one with Luke. I still haven't lost it, if I can bring him back to me.

“Not good enough,” I say, glaring. “Work with me, mom. Swallow your pride. Confess. Then we'll see about finding you some help. There's a lot for us to work through, but you don't have to ruin the rest of your life.”

The next pause is agonizing. This time, I swear I'm leaving if her next words are more woe-is-me crap.

“Okay!” she sputters at last, pounding her fists on the floor, the redness on her face deepening in defeat. “Okay, damn you.”

She lets out one of the most painful moans I've ever heard when I open the door. But I'm not leaving her. I stick my head out and see the brothers stand up straight, pulling themselves off the wall they were leaning on.

“Ten more minutes. I'll have something that should get Luke out of there by tonight.”

* * *

“Oh my God. No matter how many times you hear truth is stranger than fiction, it never sinks in until you see this stuff.” Bebe can't believe her eyes.

Honestly, neither can I.

I'm sitting in her office, the very same place I started, checking my phone every few minutes for a message from Grant or Hayden.

The judge should've seen mom's confession by now. She's standing by at the police station, ready to surrender, assuming Luke wants to press charges, as is his right.

“I know, I wouldn't have believed it myself if I hadn't heard it with my own ears,” I say.

“You poor, poor thing.” Bebe cocks her head, sympathy glowing on her face. Then her eyes go wide. “Wait. This doesn't mean you're backing out just when they're getting the movie back on track?”

I sigh. Everybody cares about their own piece, especially my agent, who does nothing except blur the line between ambition and greed.

“No, that's not what I'm getting at. I do want the film back on track. I want to know if there's a way to get the studio to agree to bring Luke back as Miles?”

“Oh.” Her relief that I'm staying on board melts when she realizes what I'm asking, and does a double take. “Ohhh! Well, obviously, I have no direct control over that, you understand? It'd be messy, assuming he's released soon. Very messy, considering the bad press.”

“That's why mom's other statement is going out to the public. Hayden already sent it to his friends in the media. I'll do whatever it takes to clear his name. Freedom isn't enough if he walks out of prison without his reputation.”

“If you'd like to speak on his behalf, I can reach out to the studio's marketing team, and clear it through them. Once they're updated on the new developments, of course.”

“Bebe, they'd better. If they think I'll leave him hanging out to dry in front of the world, they don't know me. That's the one thing that'll make me walk.”

“Now, now! Let's not be hasty.” She throws her hands up in a panic. “I'll send a message to Pierce's assistant about it right now, if it's really bothering you that much.”

It is. I'm not leaving until I hear he's released. And I'll never sleep totally easy unless it's all fixed.

Us, the film, his reputation. Everything my mother's self-absorbed lies destroyed.

“Tell him I want to sit down and talk if he isn't sure. PR issues aside, he knows damned well Luke is the best Miles there is. I won't have the same chemistry with the replacement. Don't care how hot he is. He isn't the man I love.”

“All right, I'll do my best. If this goes off like you're hoping, I may want to revisit compensation in future contracts, you understand.” She turns her nose up, dismayed by the risk I'm asking us to shoulder. “You're lucky to have me, Robbi doll. Why, if it wasn't for my expertise, every muckraker and two bit blogger would've chewed you up alongside him for not joining in the ten minutes of hate aimed at Lucus Shaw over what he did.”

“I'm lucky I didn't. If I'd gone on record, if I'd screamed and hollered about what he did to my mother without knowing what really happened, I'd be feeling about a thousand times worse right now.” My head throbs just thinking about it. “Let's fix this. Bebe, I'm here for the long haul, as long as Luke is by my side. I'll make you millions if you help me get his job back.”

“Deal.” Her fingers tap quickly across the keyboard in front of her for a few more seconds. When she's done, she spins her screen around so I can see MESSAGE SENT. “Pierce should be in touch soon. The studio has the upper hand, certainly, but they're not used to two badass bitches who know how to drive a hard bargain.”

That gets a tiny smile because it's true. They could easily give us the finger, tell us they're going with the veteran actor they have lined up to replace him, and then find someone to replace me, too, if I decide to walk.

Yes, I'm fully aware it's career suicide if I do.

If love makes a woman do crazy things, then a second chance at putting her heart back together must make her a certified lunatic.

My phone vibrates with a message from Hayden while Bebe and I are walking to our cars.

Hayden: He's out. Going to get him cleaned up and dressed at my place. Here's the address.

I copy the place listed in the next message. It's the imposing glass tower downtown, where he lives with Penny, making their lives above several dozen businesses paying prime commercial rent.

I'm racing down the city streets, my eyes giving up new hot tears above my crooked smile.

This love is me. Indistinguishably, indisputably, irrevocably.

Through all the pain, the heartache, and the confusion, I've always been his. I know it's true because the past few weeks were hell, a grim throwback to our first break five years ago.

I'm not whole without him. With God as my witness, I swear I'll find the other piece of myself, and this time super glue it in place with the world's most passionate kiss. Nothing will ever knock it loose again.

Together, we've seen heaven and hell.

We made a baby on nothing more than love and raw desire.

We've lived the divide: friends, enemies, and lovers. The last one is what we're meant to be, where we're meant to stay, and the sooner his lips are on mine, the quicker the world rights itself again.

This isn't just about the right thing, or making sure we're in a place to live the best and worst of us again. Luke completes me. He's the other half of my soul, my home, and about a thousand other sappy, indescribable things I used to laugh at.

Notice I'm not snickering at love cheese anymore. I'm not even doubting it. Losing him twice taught me how real, how serious, and how special it is to find a man who gives you a reason to breathe.

I need him like I need the steady hum of my own heart. And this heart is going to make some serious noise, hammering its glorious rhythm, as soon as I'm home again in his arms.