I’d always hoped it would be my babies she’d carry. Family has always been important to me. Even if I don’t visit my own nearly as often as I should.
‘Because I hate fantasy movies.’ I fold my arms across my chest.
‘Or because anything other than an action movie is too taxing?’ Her thinly arched eyebrow sets a fresh wave of irritation through every nerve ending in my body. ‘There’s nothing wrong with being a one-trick pony. Especially when you’re the show pony of all show ponies.’
My blood boils. I want her gone.
Yesterday, preferably.
It’s a battle to keep my voice on an even keel. ‘You have no idea what you’re talking about. I am nobody’s show pony.’
Hovering in the open doorway, I glance over my shoulder at the woman who shared my bed for the past year. A woman who, in truth, I never really knew at all. Nor had any inclination to get to know. I’ve been using Celeste to plug the cracks in my life. She’s always been slightly cold. But that suited me.
Cold doesn’t stoke the embers of my dying heart.
Cold is safe. You don’t miss ‘cold’ when it leaves.
‘Look, Nate, that came out wrong. I didn’t mean it.’ Celeste pauses, the floor-length shimmering dress she wore to the Oscars with me slung over her arm. ‘Things haven’t been right between us for a while.’
She’s spot on.
In fact, they haven’t been right ever.
Which is why I’m nowhere near as upset about the situation as I should be.
That, or perhaps I am ‘emotionally stunted’ after all?
Truthfully, Sally-Ann might have ruined me forever.
She was my childhood sweetheart. We were together for four years before I made it to the big time. It didn’t work out. She couldn’t hack life in the States.
Couldn’t hack me in the end. Or the person I morphed into. And no amount of money, mansions or movies will ever compensate for that. After Sally-Ann, I decided it was easier to only date other celebs. At least that way, they knew what they were signing up for from the start. Fame wouldn’t frighten them away.
‘You could have talked to me instead of boning Spike.’ My tone is resigned. Not bitter. This scandal is going to generate a fresh round of media-frenzied attention that I don’t need right now.
Every time I’m papped at an unflattering angle, some douche will print a bullshit piece questioning my state of mind, wondering if I’ll fall off the wagon - again.
‘Would it have made any difference?’ Celeste continues throwing dress after dress into her suitcase.
‘Probably not.’ My fingers rake through my hair, scratching my nails over my scalp. ‘And for the record, I’m not a one-trick pony.’
It’s on the tip of my tongue to ask how many movies she’s starred in.
How many Oscars she has to her name?
But that would mean stooping to her level.
‘Leave your keys at the front door.’ I raise my hand in a sarcastic goodbye. ‘Say hi to Spike for me.’
‘Nate, don’t be like that. I’d hoped we could still be friends.’ Full lips pout woefully. No wonder she hasn’t been cast as a leading lady yet. She’s stunning in that waif-like way, but her acting leaves a lot to be desired.
‘We were never friends.’
Fuck buddies, yes.
Cohabitants of my home, yes.
Friends? Never.
