I stood and walked to a panel on the wall, my fingers hovering over a button. “What do you think this does?”
The room transformed instantly as I pressed the button. Soft LED lights embedded in the ceiling and floor tiles flickered to life, shifting through calming blues, vibrant purples, and warm golds.
I grinned. “It’s like we’re in a chic nightclub. Only it’s a bathroom. Club Porcelain.”
Anna giggled and then motioned toward an electronic panel on the opposite wall. “Let’s see what else this place can do.”
She tapped an icon that looked like musical notes surrounded by swirls. Instantly, the soothing sounds of a babbling brook and chirping birds filled the room, creating a spa-like ambiance. But then, a calm, authoritative voice boomed from hidden speakers: “Begin your journey to tranquility. Close your eyes and envision yourself as an oak tree.”
Startled, I fumbled with the controls, but instead of silencing the voice, I cranked the volume all the way up. The voice exploded through the room, almost comical in its intensity. YOUR ROOTS DIG DEEP INTO THE EARTH, GROUNDING YOU.
Anna was shouting over the noise, her laughter bubbling up. “I think you’ve found the meditation program.”
EMBRACE THE SOOTHING HUM OF THE UNIVERSE.
“How do you turn this off?” I yelled back, frantically pressing random buttons.
IMAGINE YOUR THOUGHTS DRIFTING AWAY LIKE AUTUMN LEAVES.
“Let me try this,” she suggested, hitting a large button labeled “Stop.” The voice cut off mid-sentence, leaving the room blissfully silent—except for our uncontrollable laughter.
“We might’ve been stuck in here until we both achieved nirvana,” I joked, easing myself to the cool tile floor. She did the same.
We settled into a comfortable conversation, sharing thoughts on books we’d read recently, the ultimate comfort food, and our shared opinion that pineapple had no place on pizza.
It was one of those great, easy conversations where you don’t worry about how you sound to the other person. I hadn’t felt so comfortable in a long time. Anna was curled up on the ottoman beside me, legs tucked under her, a blanket draped over her lap. She looked so at ease.
I stared at the bathroom mirror. “You ever feel like people only want to know the polished version of your story?” I asked, not expecting an answer. “The PR-friendly one. With the clean lines and the perfect ending.”
She glanced over, brow raised slightly. “Yeah. All the time.”
I gave a humorless laugh. “Guess I shouldn’t complain. I’ve been living inside the polished version for years.”
She didn’t say anything, just watched me. Not pressing. Just there.
I shifted, firelight throwing shadows across my face. "No one knows the full story about me and Sienna." I kept my eyes on the flames. "Not the real story."
She turned toward me, and I caught that smile. "What happened?" The way she pulled her knees up, settling in—it was like she was bracing for impact. That kind of attention could make a man say anything.
I ran a hand through my hair and laughed, but it came out wrong. "You know about Sienna. Her and Dylan Sanders. But nobody knows how it actually went down."
Anna's brow furrowed, but she didn't say anything. Just waited.
"We were supposed to go to Paris. First real break we'd had in months." I shook my head. "I planned this whole week. Rented an apartment in Le Marais with a balcony. Made reservations at all these restaurants she'd mentioned. Even learned some French because she always gave me grief about my accent."
Anna put her hand on my knee.
"I thought we needed the time away. Just the two of us. Turns out there were already three of us in the relationship."
Anna looked like she wanted to say something, but she held back.
"The day before we were supposed to leave, we had a talk show. Me, Sienna, Dylan—promoting the movie we were all in together. I got there early because I'm always early." My jaw tightened. "Walked into the wrong green room. Heard her voice and just... opened the door."
The memory hit me like it always did. "She was with him. And yeah, that part was bad enough. But it was what she was saying. The same things she'd said to me. 'You make me feel like I'm finally myself.' 'I've never felt this way with anyone.' Word for word. Like she had a script, and we were both just playing the same part in different takes."
Anna's hand found mine.
"I left before they saw me. Closed the door real quiet." I could still feel the doorknob, how my hands shook. "Then I had to go sit on that couch an hour later. Next to both of them. Smiling for the cameras like everything was fine. Because that's what you do, right? The show must go on."
