Now, after hitting rock bottom and struggling back to my feet, the world looked different. I had a better handle on what was important to me. None of it included a third go round at the World’s Sexiest Man title.
My health was important, and by that I meant my mental health as well, not only the physical stuff. My relationships were important. I needed to spend time with the people I loved. My mum and dad. My friends. Gabi and Law. These were the people who made life worthwhile and they deserved the best of me.
I wanted to work. It gave me a sense of purpose and direction, a place to focus my energy. And modelling was the only real work I’d ever known, so I couldn’t see myself walking away from it completely. But I was done allowing it to take over my life. If my agent, or anyone else, wished to object to my change in priorities, they could go right ahead. I’d earned the right not to care.
* * *
I announced my news as we finished cleaning up from dinner that night. “I’m going down to Melbourne on Sunday,” I told them, “for a big modelling job.”
They both stilled at my words, glancing at each other before turning back to me.
“How long will you be gone?” Gabi asked.
“Only four days,” I assured her. “You and Law will have to keep each other warm while I’m gone, but I’ll be back before you know it.”
Law posed the next question. “What do you mean by big, exactly?”
My stomach turned somersaults as I stood there, confronted by their matching frowns. “Big enough to get my career back on track.” I provided a quick overview of the job, hoping it would help ease the sudden tension between us.
When I finished, Gabi forced a smile and reached out to give me a hug. “I guess congratulations are in order.”
“Thank you,” I said, grateful for her acceptance, especially when I met Law’s gaze over her shoulder. His expression was dark enough to suck all the joy from the room.
Gabi pulled back to look at him, her own smile dying a quick death. “Law, aren’t you going to congratulate Connor?”
“I don’t know if I can,” he said, taking a step towards me. “I thought you were done with all that shit.”
My jaw clenched. With a single sentence, Law had managed to reduce more than five years of my life to a pile of turds. “I never said I was done,” I reminded him. “I needed some time off to get my head on straight, but I’ve done that now. If I don’t start working again soon, I won’t have a career to go back to.”
“Are you sure you’re ready for this?” Gabi stood beside me, one hand on my arm. “This is what you want?”
It wasn’t necessarily what I wanted, but what else could I do? I wasn’t qualified for anything else. “Yes, I’m sure,” I told her, though the concern on her face told me I’d taken too long to answer. “It’s only one job. It’s not a big deal.”
“Actually, it’s a big fucking deal,” Law growled, hands on his hips. “I don’t want you to do it.”
I’d suspected this might be his reaction, especially since I’d told him about my eating disorder. I’d seen him watching me, taking note of every mouthful, frowning anytime I said no to eating something offered to me. Sometimes I didn’t feel hungry, damn it. I didn’t appreciate being supervised like a child.
“I understand your concern, but I’m not asking for permission,” I told him in clipped tones. “All that shit, as you refer to it, is my job. It’s what I do.”
He met my glare, his face drawn into hard lines. “I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to get messed up in that world again. After what happened last time—”
“It’s not going to happen again,” I assured him. “I got lost in the extremes, I know. But I recognise the signs now, I know what to look for.” I’d proved that to myself once already. In the weeks after the wedding, when I’d realised I was going back down that same path, I’d taken steps to stop it from getting worse. I hadn’t told either of them about it, but the close call had given me confidence that I could handle this. Lawrence, however, seemed entirely unconvinced.
“Law, it’s not going to be like before,” I told him. “You and Gabi are my world now. I promise you I won’t lose sight of that. But I can’t continue sitting around here doing nothing, I need to work.”
“There are other jobs,” Law suggested. “Do something else.”
“Like what?” I cried. “I have no other work experience. What do you want me to do, wait tables for minimum wage?” The defiance in his eyes failed to waver and my patience took a nosedive. “I’m not going to throw away my entire career because of a setback.”
“An eating disorder is not a setback,” he insisted. “What will happen when they start telling you you’re not good enough, or big enough, or cut enough? Those people will turn on you the second you don’t fit their mould.”
“I made my own fucking mould,” I snapped, my voice rising at the insinuation he knew the first damned thing about my life. “That’s how good I was. People were envious when they looked at me. They tried to emulate me, they wanted to be like me. You have no idea how many wannabes begged me for advice, so they could do what I did.”
“And don’t tell me that’s not like a drug,” he hissed, jabbing a finger at me, “because I’ve been there, too. I may not be famous, but I know what it’s like to have someone look at you like you have all the answers, and not want to let them down.” I saw the pain in his eyes, the guilt, and I knew he was talking about me.
“You’re right, I did look at you that way… when we were kids. But I’m all grown up now. I don’t need you to come along and wipe my nose and clean up my bloodied knees. Not anymore.” I straightened my spine until I looked down at him. It wasn’t far down, but far enough to make my point. “I may have made my share of mistakes, but at least I can admit to them, and I’m learning how to ask for help when I need it. Maybe that’s a skillyoucould pick up from me.”
A predictably baffled expression settled on Law’s features. “What are you even talking about?”
