38
Ally watched in disbelief as Marc turned to go. She jumped up to go after him, but I caught her arm.
“Let him go.”
She sat down again, appearing slightly shell-shocked, which was how I felt, too.
“Why?” she said.
“Because I need time to make sense of everything.”
Why had I just let him go? I knew how hard this was for him, how he was haunted by a past I was unable to imagine, yet I couldn’t bring myself to call him back.
“Are you sure?” Ally asked.
“Yes.” Regardless of his past, he’d deliberately concealed information. If I’d known, I never would have gone with Ben into the panic room. If I’d suspected, even remotely, that Ben might have unhealthy feelings for me, I would never have allowed myself to be alone with him.
It didn’t matter how well meaning Marc’s intentions were. Or how much he cared about me. It mattered that he trusted me, that he respected me enough not to have any secrets between us. After my inauthentic Hollywood marriage, I refused to have another relationship based on lies.
“You know why?” I told Ally. “Because he never gave me a chance to protect myself.”
Ally frowned at me, but didn’t say anything. She knew me well enough to understand I needed time to sort through my feelings.
My thoughts whirling, I looked out the window past Ally. It was a sunny day. No clouds in sight. It was warm in the hospital room but I knew the air outside would have a cool edge to it now it was almost winter.
Almost awards season.
Had it really been nearly a year ago I’d won my first award? An Oscar for my performance in Duncan’s production, A Long Night.
I was yet to find out if I would be nominated again, but I’d had plans for Marc to join me on the red carpet.
Now I would go alone.
*
“You’re fussing.”
Ally smoothed my skirt again. “I’m not fussing, I’m working.”
I hid a smile. “I know you are.”
At the fondness in my voice, she glanced up. “Are you sure you’re alright?”
“I’m fine.” There was that word again. Since Ben’s attack, I’d been using it a lot more.
I looked over her head at the full-length mirror. This time last year, I had debuted Ally’s first awards ceremony gown. Twelve months on, I would be one of five actresses wearing a Valenti gown to attend the Golden Globes. Once again Ally had outdone herself.
The silver strapless princess style gown twinkled like a star under the foyer lights. I had no idea where Ally had sourced the material from, but I was sure she had stolen tulle from every fairy-tale heroine there ever was. The skirt was enormous and I loved it.
“You may not be nominated for any awards this year, but you’re going to turn heads,” Ally told me.
“Jay’s going to love getting me into the car in this.”
“Hasn’t he organized you a pumpkin carriage?” Ally quipped.
“Not necessary,” said a deep voice behind us.
I grinned at Jay in the mirror. “Are you sure?”
He let out a low whistle. “That’s some dress. You’ll fit in the car but I hope you made other arrangements, Ally. Ain’t gonna be room for you, too.”
“No problem. Jacob should be here in a minute to pick me up.”
Jay nodded and strolled away. It was just another day at the office for him.
“Ally, seriously. The dress looks perfect.”
Ally straightened. “Are you sure you’re alright?”
“Yes. Why wouldn’t I be?”
Ally sighed and glanced around us, nodding at the Gone with the Wind staircase. “Well, you’re here for one.”
“Yes, I am. The renovations are finished now, too, so what’s wrong with here?”
“You wanted to be living in your own house.”
“This is a house.”
“Home. Your own home.”
I gave her a gentle smile. “Stop worrying about me, I’m fine. Really. I may not have found my home yet but this is acceptable for now.”
I hadn’t returned to the house in Beverly Hills. I’d had my things moved back to my Hollywood Hills estate and put the house on the market. It hadn’t sold yet, which was no surprise given the media speculation surrounding Ben’s two-year imprisonment and what had happened in the panic room.
“What about tonight? Are you going to be OK?”
“Of course.”
She stepped back and looked at me. “But you’re going alone.”
“I’m fine with that.”
She bit her lip. “Have you spoken to him?”
“No.”
“But—”
“There’s nothing to talk about, Ally, you know that.”
Her shoulders drooped. “I guess.”
“I’m happy being alone.”
“I didn’t say you weren’t.”
“But?”
“But I guess I just thought Marc was it,” she blurted.
I stared at her. “It?”
She waved her hands at me in true Italian style. “It! The One. The man for you!”
I blinked. “Since when?” This was the first I’d heard about it.
Ally sighed. “Since I saw the way you looked at him.”
“When?”
She threw her hands up in the air. “Whenever you thought no one was looking, Lena! You’ve never looked at a guy like that. Certainly not Duncan.”
I walked over to her. With my giant skirt it felt like I was floating. I threaded my fingers through hers. “No, you’re right. I never looked at Duncan like that.”
“So?”
I glanced down at my fairy-tale dress, all too aware of the painful irony. “Not everyone gets a happy ending, Ally.”
Ally looked close to tears. “But you deserve one.”
Gosh, she was a good friend. And in my weaker moments, I’d thought the same thing too. Especially when the loss of my mother became too much and my father’s tragic situation made me feel powerless. Still, it didn’t help anyone to play the victim.
“I tried contacting him. You know that.”
After he’d left my hospital room, Marc hadn’t returned. While I was angry at the breach of trust, once I’d had time to think, I was prepared to talk to him and had left several messages. It had been three days before I’d finally received a reply:
On assignment outside LA. Probably better this way.
And that had been it. No mention of how long he would be gone. No, ‘Our relationship is over’. Or, ‘It’s not over, but I need time to think, so can you wait for me?’ Just some vague indication that things had gone wrong and we were probably better off without each other.
Probably.
That one text pretty much summed up our relationship: lack of communication.
And Ally was right, I’d never looked at a guy that way before, and maybe I wouldn’t again. I’d fallen in love with him. I could admit that, but I was also smart enough to recognize that no matter how much you loved someone, sometimes things didn’t work out.
My parents had taught me that lesson without ever intending to.
“I’m sorry.”
Ally’s apology cut through my thoughts.
“I didn’t mean to ruin the mood,” she said. “Come on. Jake will be here soon and I need to get dressed. It’s time for you to shine, Lena Lyons.”