There’s a clatter as he kicks our tray off the bed and climbsabove me. And when he’s groaning my name minutes later, I know I’d give anything to jump past every terrible conversation and land at some mythical point where all this is mine and I no longer have to fear giving it back.
• • •
When my eyes open at dawn he’s fully dressed and pressing a kiss to my neck. On the one night when I’d have preferred not to, I slept like the dead.
“I have to go,” he says. “There’s a lunch thing I can’t miss. But I’ll see you in Bergen?”
I nod. My smile is forced.I’m not ready for it to be over,I long to tell him.It all went too quickly.“I’ve got my Norway facts ready.”
“Of course you do,” he says, and then his lips press together, a moment of hesitation. “With your interview today…and around the crew…we should probably keep this to ourselves?”
He wants to keep it a secret. It’s not as if I was going to say anything, but it bothers me that he’s asking.
“That’s probably best,” I reply. He kisses me one last time and then he’s gone, leaving me behind with more questions than answers, my mood morphing from sunshine and rainbows to utter despair.
Just two days ago he was saying it would be messy and “I have a lot of baggage,” which is exactly whatI’dsay to a guy I was only interested in sleeping with one or two times. I’ll bet I’m not even out of the shower before he’s texted to tell me he’s worried this will ruin our friendship, or that it’s a busy time for him, which are other excuses I’ve made quite often.
I mean, there’s definitely something going on with thecomplication,right? Because even if he gave me that song and dance about “Not every story is mine to tell,” he would have said it was over if it was over. I know he wouldn’t cheat on someone—that’s just not who he is—but they might have an openrelationship. For all I know he lives with her—it would certainly explain why I’ve never once seen the inside of his flat. Maybe he’s given her a ring too…and it’s one Larsdidn’tchoose.
All I’ve seen of Theo is what he’s permitted me to see, and it’s not a hell of a lot. Actually, it’s almost nothing. He’s stayed in my home, but I don’t even know where his homeis.He knows some of my neighbors, who I was dating, my fucked-up family dynamics, and all I know about him is that he’s British and his brother is dead.
Is the fault mine for respecting his boundaries, or is the fault mine for thinking a man who holds every secret close to his chest, a man known for his reluctance to commit, was somehow going to be different withme?
For the first time in my entire existence, I’m reminding myself of Bronwyn, who displayed some fairly irrational behaviors when she was infatuated. She’d name their children, check her phone a hundred times an hour, fall into a week-long funk when he failed to reply or ghosted her or did any of the other shit most men do at some point.
But me? I always assumed it would end badly, that the guy didn’t quite want me enough, so I didn’t get invested. If I was finally going to give someone a shot, why the hell did I give it to Theo, a guy I already knew had someone else?
A few hours later, I shower and force myself into camera-appropriate clothes and makeup. In today’s interview, Paris will be presented as the midpoint of our relationship, and Lars wants me to be largely optimistic but point out just a few issues—like the fact that my handsome husband ditched me mid-trip to go back to work.
It’ll be easy enough to act upset. Iam,even if I have no right tobe.
The crew files in. Lars, Paula, Katrina, Jon, LJ, Sean, and…
“Where’s Caden?” I ask.
“Home,” Lars says.
Fuck. I don’t know if he was sent home or if he chose to go home, but even an NDA won’t keep Caden from causing trouble, and I’m sure he wants to cause maximum trouble now that Theo has punched him repeatedly. “Look, yesterday wasn’t great, I know, but honestly…Theo will be fine. There was some tension building, and now it’s over.”
Lars laughs and pulls out his phone. “Allow me to read you the text Theo sent two hours ago: ‘If I see Caden anywhere near Bex again, he’s a dead man.’ ”
I fight a smile. What an asinine display of male aggression, and why do I love it so much? “I’m sure he wasn’t seri—”
“ ‘I’m serious, Lars,’ ” Lars continues to read before turning the phone to face me. And that’s what it says, verbatim. “Anyway, Bex, let’s talk about the fight.”
I frown. LJ is already rolling. Jon has headphones on, listening in. “On camera?” I ask.
Lars shrugs. “They’re mostly checking lighting and sound, but if we end up using the fight, we might use some of this as well.”
“Youcan’tuse the fight,” I reply. “Theo is co-owner of the company. You can’t show him—”
“Defending his wife?” Lars asks. “I’m pretty sure a lot of husbands would have reacted badly to what Caden was doing.”
“Notthatbadly,” I mutter.
“You’re right,” says Lars. “Not that badly. So why did Theo?”
I breathe through my nose, my mouth tightly shut. There’s no good answer here. The audience isn’t going to loveTheo was just hungover and in a bad mood.Diplomacy was never my strong suit—it was Bronwyn’s. Is there a single part of this show she wouldn’t have handled better than me? I doubtit.
