God, Becca, what’s wrong with you? So fucking naive. You wouldn’t last a minute in the real world.Rob was fond of that one.
Nate takes a step toward me, and I flinch back. I’m suddenly aware of how naked I am, how exposed, and I clutch the ball of clothes tighter to my chest.
Nate freezes, then lowers his arm. “I didn’t know,” he repeats.Then he squeezes his eyes shut. “But it’s still my fault. I’m a producer, I should never have assumed we wouldn’t be recorded—”
“I trusted you!”The words burst out of me, and he recoils from them. I recoil from them myself. “I trusted you,” I repeat, my voice lowered, because what if someone out there hears, and—and oh my god, why am I still trying to protect his fucking job?
The job he might have just purposefully destroyed me for.
But did he? CanNatereally have done this?
Do I really know him at all?
“I know,” he says. “I know you trusted me, and I’m so sorry, I never wanted to betray that—”
I don’t even feel the tears before they’re running down my cheeks, clogging up my throat. “My in-laws are going to hear this. Paula and Kurt, they’re going to hear me tell the world that their son was a terrible person. My girls—they’re going to hear about everything he said to me, everything he—” I’m hit with the worst of all, and another wounded animal sound escapes me. “They’re going to hear their mother say she’s relieved that their father is dead.They’re going to know how horrible I am.”
“You’re not horrible,” Nate insists, taking a tiny step forward. “The way you said it, in context, it’s completely understa—”
“You think they’re going to show that incontext?”
His mouth closes with a snap. “No,” he says. “Probably not.”
For years and years I hid this to protect the people I love.To protect myself. Years of watching every word I said about the terrible things Rob said and did to me, because others needed him to be a good person. And because I was terrified that they’d know he was right.
Maybe I should be relieved that I don’t need to hide anymore, but I’m not. I feel like my entire world is crashing down around me.
I sway on my feet.
“Becks.” His fingers brush my arm, trying to steady me, and I wrench away from him, my bare hip banging against the edge of the cheap hotel table. I don’t even feel the bruise that will definitely be there in the morning.
“Don’t touch me,” I say, a combination of growl and sob. And suddenly I need my clothes on. I wanted more than anything for him to see me, all of me, and now I can’t bear anymore that he has.That I let anyone do that, let alone a person whose stated job—from the beginning—was to get me to open up for the sake of a reality show. I pull up my pants, then shove my arms through my hoodie and have to shove them through again when I discover the sleeves are inside out and tangled.
What the fuck was I thinking, coming here?
I mean the show—how the hell did that ever seem like a good idea? But I also mean tonight, coming to Nate’s room and handing him my heart, which I’d kept locked up for years and years, way before Rob died. Locked up and cold and alone, sure, butsafe.
Nate makes a small, helpless noise, and it hurts to hear, because god, I’m in love with him and I can’t just turn that off, even if everything around it was built on lies. “Please,” he says, and his dark eyes are shining with tears. “I didn’t do this on purpose. Please believe me.”
I want to. I still want to. Can he fake tears like that? Can he fake looking so stricken?
Can he fake the way he made me feel when I was in his arms?The way he looked at me like I was the most precious thing in his world?
So fucking naive, Becca,Rob whispers in my head.
“I don’t know that I can,” I say, my voice breaking. “How can I ever know for sure?” Another sob forces its way out. “I was manipulated for so long. I was sucked into believing someone loved me and then I was torn apart, piece by piece, and made to feel like I was being crazy, too sensitive, too weak. And he wassogood at making people trust him. Making them feel like they were special. Until they weren’t.” I’ve finally managed to get my hoodie on. I didn’t bother with my bra or underwear; I shove those into my pockets. “So how can I ever know that I can trust you? How can I know I’m not being manipulated all over again?”
“If this was all for my job, what would I be getting out of this now?” Frustration punctuates each word. “You were going to leave the show.”
“Sex? Maybe you’re afraid I’m going to tell Levi about this? It could be anything. What did Rob ever get out of it? Some people just get off on controlling other people.” I put my shaking hands up to my face, feeling like I want to claw my own eyes out. “I can’t do it anymore, I can’t . . .” I trail off.
There’s this long moment of quiet, and I know I should leave, I should just go, but I feel tethered to him.
I still want him to convince me, want him to prove it somehow. I still wanthim, more than anything. And I hate myself for it.
“What are you going to do?” he asks quietly.
I narrow my eyes. “I’m not going to tell anyone about this, if that’s what you’re asking.” My heart thumps heavily, slowly, and I look down at the ground. “I know what this means for your career.”
