“You’re not wearing a ring. I checked.”
“I could be seriously dating someone.” Even saying thatmakes me feel like garbage. Makes me wish I was. I’m so all over the place, and I don’t like feeling like this. I can blame my upcoming period for some of this, but definitely not all of it.
“Are ye?”
“No. But I’m also not in the place to. I need to go. It was a pleasure meeting you, Malcolm.”
“The pleasure was mine, darlin’.”
Darlin’. Darling. Just like that, I burst into tears.
41
Alexander
BeforemytriptoLondon, I hardly used my home office, but in the three weeks since I’ve been back, I’ve been in there more than anywhere else. I flew through a pre-recorded screenwriting course, read everything my grandparents wrote, and I am now outlining a screenplay. I’m not going to be telling their story—I’m honestly not sure if they would want that—but I’m going to use it as a basic framework for a new story. Centered around the war, yes, but also centered around love. Love is the overarching theme of the box. It’s what got my grandfather through his toughest days in the war, and the love and longing in their letters made me tear up more than once while reading. The tears likely had to do with my emotional state, because had I received this box without having met Ivy,I’m not sure it would have made me cry.
At first, it was hard reading about their love after having lost mine. Their situation was obviously far more difficult, but still, the longing in their writing hit a little too close to home. However, their letters became more and more encouraging the longer I read. They had hope. They knew their love was strong and would survive until the war was over. If they could overcome and have the happy life I know they had, why couldn’t Ivy and I?
I have a couple of months before filming is set to begin. We’ll be filming for two months in Georgia. I’ll be just over three and a half hours from Ivy, and I have a plan. If I can wait that long.
There was certainly damage control to be done when I got back from London. My agent drafted a statement reminding everyone that Grey and I had broken up just after the premiere ofThe Mark of Everlore,and we had never been engaged. I’d asked him to say that the woman in the photos was just a friend. He promptly pulled up the photos of us dancing and it was clear that would never work. I look like a man who is absolutely drowning in love for the woman in his arms. And one of the more encouraging things for me? She looks at me the very same way.
I’d hoped to keep her name out of the papers, but it was no use. I’d not been back in LA for fifteen minutes, when I got a message from my assistant that her name and her restauranthad been published all over. I’d wanted to text her. To grovel and apologize, but there was nothing I could say to make it better. Exactly what she’d feared had happened.
Instead, I issued a statement asking people to respect her privacy. Telling them that if they are looking for me, they will not find me with her, and that she does not lead a public life, and has no desire to.
I hope she saw it and read the apology between the lines.
“You’ve got to get out of here and go … literally anywhere,” Grey says as she waltzes into my office.
“What are you doing here? I need to change the codes,” I say, but I know I won’t. Not because of Grey, anyway.
“We may not be in a fake relationship anymore, but we’re still friends. You’ve been holed up in here like a hermit since you got back.” She pauses, looking around at all the papers, letters, and journals, along with my empty take-out container from lunch. “And am I wrong?” She eyes me doubtfully.
Over a week of texts, I'd told her the abridged version of everything with Ivy. She’d always asked what I was up to, and looking back, I realize my answer was always the same. Working on something in my office.
“You’re not wrong. But it’s nothing to be concerned about.I’m working on something exciting.” I lean back in my desk chair. “People are going to think we’re back together if you’re letting yourself into my house.”
“I was careful.” She waved off my concern. “I’m glad you’re working on something exciting, but what about Ivy? How is your heart?”
“How is my heart?” I laugh at her phrasing. “It’s been better, but I’ve decided not to give up.”
“Good. I’msoglad to hear that. It can work out. I know it can.”
“Aren’t you still seeing your boyfriend from back home in secret? How often do you see each other?” If anyone could understand my situation, it’s Grey.
“Yes, I’m still seeing Conner. We see each other once a month or so, depending on filming. Sometimes more than that.” She shrugs as if this is fine. Perfectly normal. Like it’s something I could do and be happy with.
I am not like Grey.
“That sounds terrible.”
“It works for now. It’s not permanent. He has to stay home because he’s his grandfather’s caregiver. But one day … onesadday, his grandfather will no longer be with us, and Conner will come out here. We’ll get married, and he will be my trophy husband.” She grins at that last bit.
“And he will be content to just bum about at home? And beyour arm candy?”
“Arm candy? Always. I’m sure eventually he would want to get a job of some sort, but honestly, he has worked so hard these past several years, that I wouldn’t blame him if he never worked another day in his life.”
