“It does, doesn’t it?” Her voice was wistful. “But is it enough? Is it foolish to choose that over fame and money and?—“
“It’s not foolish to choose peace.” Or family. I kept that to myself.
“What if it’s not peace? What if it’s just fear?”
“Or maybe,” I said gently, “it’s wisdom. Knowing what you value. Knowing what makes you happy. Knowing who you really are.”
She wrapped her arms around herself. “I’m terrified of making the wrong choice.”
“What would wrong even look like?” I asked.
“Taking the job and being miserable. Or turning it down and regretting it. Either way, I lose something.”
I wanted to tell her exactly what to do. To beg her not to take it. But I couldn’t. This had to be her choice.
“What do you think? For real.” Lila looked me directly in the eyes. “I want to know.”
“Honestly?” I asked.
“Please.”
“I’m scared too. I’m scared to lose you to that world. It was so ugly. These last weeks. Those awful photographers waiting in the driveway. You tossing and turning all night. Feeling like a chased animal.” I stopped. “I’m not trying to pressure you. I’m just being honest. I don’t think it’s what you really want. And I sure as heck don’t.”
“It’s not what I want.”
“Then why are you even considering it?” I asked.
“Because I don’t want to be the woman who gave up her dreams for a man.”
That felt like a stab right in the heart. I drew in a deep breath. “Is that what this is? Your dream?”
She looked at me, tears spilling over. “I don’t know anymore. I thought it was. When I first got the call about the show, I was so excited. It felt like validation. Like proof that I’d made it. But now …” She shook her head. “Now I just feel exhausted. Used. Like they took something from me I can’t get back.”
“You can get it back,” I said. “Without all the pressure, you’ll bounce back to who you really are.”
She pressed her hands to her face, shoulders shaking.
I slid out of my side of the booth and moved to sit beside her, pulling her against me. She collapsed into my chest, crying quietly.
“I’ve been gone so much this summer,” she said through her tears. “Filming, meetings, trying to keep up with everything. And Mia—she’s been so understanding. So patient. But I’ve missed things. That day you took the girls to Wrenport, for example. I would’ve enjoyed that so much. Instead, I was here fighting for the truth. I’ve not been to the beach once this summer. I haven’t even had time to see my friends. And I can’t get any of those days back.”
“No,” I agreed quietly. “You can’t.”
“Four more years,” she whispered. “That’s all I have before Mia goes to college. Before she starts her own life and doesn’t need me the same way. Four years. And Margot. She needs me. Here. Steady. Not focused on myself—like Nicole did.”
I held her tighter, feeling her work through it.
After a long moment, she pulled back, wiping her eyes.
“I can’t do it,” she said. “I can’t miss that. I can’t trade Mia’s last years at home—for what? Fame? I can’t let Margot down. Or you. Not for a TV show. Even a good one. Even one on my terms. I just … I can’t.”
Relief flooded through me, but I kept my voice steady. “Are you sure?”
“Yes, I’m sure. I don’t want to spend the next four years wondering what my daughter’s doing without me. I don’t want to build a career at the expense of the people I love most.” Her voice steadied. “When I imagine my future, the one that makes me happy isn’t the one with cameras and crew and constant travel. It’s the one with you. And the girls. And quiet evenings and good work and a life I actually want to live.”
I let out a breath I hadn’t realized I was holding. “Then that’s your answer.”
“It is, isn’t it?” She wiped her eyes, a small smile breaking through. “God, I’m such a mess.”
