“What do you say we relax and watch a movie?” I ask as I grab the remote on the bedside table.
“You’re asking me if I want to ‘Netflix and chill’?” She deadpans.
“ActuallyNetflix and chill, I swear.” I lift my hands in defense. Scanning through the catalog of movies, I find the one I’m looking for and hit play.
“Creature from the Black Lagoon?” Clover smiles at me.
“Let’s see what’s so good about this movie anyway,” I smirk.
An hour into the movie, Clover hasn’t touched any of the food. I know she has to be hungry, I’ve heard her stomach growl. But she hasn’t made a single move.
Chapter Fifty-Two
CLOVER
“Is there something you’d rather I got for you?” Roman asks softly. I look down at the platter of food. The dumb, thoughtful, delicious-looking platter of food.
“No,” I whisper.
“Do you want to talk about it?”
The last thing I ever would have imagined is discussing this with Roman Everett of all people. Maybe it’s the fact that he’s already seen me in such a vulnerable state, or the way he took care of me today, or how I’m so tired of hanging on to self-loathing, but I want to tell him. I want to share the burden with someone.
“I’ve been having some trouble with it.” Eloquent as ever, I gesture to the food, hoping it’ll convey the rest. Roman’s quiet, but his hand reaches out and takes hold of mine. A silent offer to listen if I feel like continuing. “I had some body image stuff come up when I was a younger, and I thought I moved past it, but now I’m feeling overwhelmed with it.”
“You’re fucking perfect, exactly as you are. But it doesn’t matter what anyone else thinks, it matters how you feel.”
I want to sob and melt into him. “I’m tired of feeling likeI’ll never be enough, no matter what I do. I’m tired of people saying I need to change,” I admit barely above a whisper. Roman doesn’t say anything, and when I finally look up at him, his gaze has gone stormy. When he notices I’m looking, he schools it back into something more neutral.
“It makes me sick to think anyone would tell you that,” he grits out. “Who?”
“Anita… the general public…” I laugh with no humor.
Roman sits up taller, “She fucking said that?”
“I don’t want to let her down. She’s the best agent I’ve ever had, she got me this audition, I need her.”
“Fuck Anita,” he growls. “She needs you. Not the other way around. After the movie comes out, you’ll have agents lining up down the block for you.”
I swipe at the tears pooling in my eyes.
“And for everyone else? You’ve got to stay off the comment sections, and don’t read the stuff they put in those poor excuses for articles. They have something shitty to say about everyone. You’re enough, just as you are.”
I nod, desperately hoping he’s right.
“Do you think it’s worth talking to someone about? A professional, I mean.”
Biting my lip, I look up to the ceiling, as if the answer should be written there. It’s something I’ve started wondering myself. If today’s accident isn’t a wake-up call, I don’t know what is. It feels so stupid to say the things out loud that I’ve been feeling about myself, but I know I can’t continue on like this anymore.
“Probably,” I settle on.
“How can I support you?”
“Just listening has been great. Thank you.” Grabbing a carrot stick and taking a little bite, I effectively shut the conversation down, not ready to get intospecifics. Roman seems to understand, and he pulls me back onto his chest, placing a kiss on my head.
When the movie ends and we finish the sequel, Roman’s hand trails up and down my arm. It’s soothing, and I want nothing more than to fall asleep in his arms again.
“You scared the shit out of me today, Clo,” he admits when I lean my head on him.
