Page 12 of A Simple Love

“I know. She has to be if she talked you into giving me this role.”

“She asked, but it was your work that convinced me.”

Those words bolstered my flagging ego.

“Have you worked with Carl Rawlins or Sheri Williams before?” he asked.

“Carl once, a long time ago. He’s a decent guy. Never worked with Sheri.”

He rubbed his chin. “Carl is a great pick for the lead. His character, Ryder, is older, stable. Sheri…” He paused and took a sip of coffee. “Let’s just say you’re not the only one I’m taking a gamble on. But I think she’ll make a great Camilla.”

I had heard Sheri was hard to work with at times, but I had seen her in a few things and she was a good actress. I would wait and make my own opinion about her. I totally agreed with him on his choice for Ryder. Carl was perfect for the role.

“Any chance of getting a room with the crew?” I asked.

“I thought your accommodation was set.”

“There might be an issue. The, ah, landlady is someone I knew before, and let’s just say, she isn’t my biggest fan.”

He began to laugh. “So I suppose the old adage, you can’t go home again, is correct this time?”

I scrubbed my face. “Maybe.”

“We’ve taken up the two motels in the town and the one in the nearest town to Richton. I’m staying closer to Toronto since I need access to the studio. I can try to help.”

“I’ll figure it out,” I said, not wanting to be a bother already.

“I’m going to be in Richton day after tomorrow. Why don’t we meet for breakfast? I was there last week and had a great one at a place called Dill something…”

“Kind of a Big Dill,” I replied. “I heard it’s good as well.”

“Great. Say eight? We can talk about a few things, some of your notes, and maybe take a ride together.”

“Sounds good.”

Kassie

I watched as Oliver’s rental car pulled out of the driveway early in the morning. I sat in my favorite chair by the window where I had been since four a.m. I hadn’t slept at all, Oliver’s angry words on repeat in my head. All of his speech stayed with me, but some of the phrasing echoed constantly.

I know our past is fucked up and I made a shit-ton of mistakes.

The reason I asked about a private gym is because I’m used to being hounded when I try to work out in a public one. I’m constantly harassed. I can barely go out in public at times without being mobbed, which is a frightening thing to have happen.

I’ve worked hard to get where I am. Made more sacrifices than you know. So I’d appreciate it if you’d stop with the attitude and the preconceived notions of my life.

I’ll try to remember the sweet girl I knew and not this sanctimonious, sarcastic woman who took her place.

He was right. I was being judgmental and sanctimonious with him. What he didn’t know, though, was I wasn’t normally like that. I was reacting to his being here. I wasn’t prepared. I’d had no opportunity to steel myself to see him. Hear his voice. Feel him close again.

When I allow myself to think of you, Kassie, what I remember the most is your sweetness and openness. Your light. The fact that I killed that will haunt me.

What exactly did he mean by that? When he allowed himself to think of me. Did that mean it happened more than he wanted it to, so he forced himself not to?

He indicated his life wasn’t always as great as the stories and pictures made it seem. I knew that, lately, the pictures I had seen showed a different-looking Oliver. Older. More withdrawn, his usually easy smile more forced. And the articles weren’t as positive anymore. He seemed jaded. Sad, perhaps?

Why did the idea of him being mobbed bother me so much? Was it the slight fear in his eyes when he said it? What sacrifices had he made? Was he talking about leaving Richton and me behind? It had to be something else.

I had to confess, he still occupied a gigantic part of my head. More than I wanted to admit. Maybe even a little of my heart. But I couldn’t analyze that thought right now.