“I’m sorry, Viv. More than you can know. I’ll give you some space, but I’m not giving you up.”
“You don’t have a choice.” I lift my head, pinning him with bloodshot eyes. “You gave up on us a long time ago—you just didn’t realize it.”
Simon walks forward, rubbing the back of his neck. “Thanks for dinner, Lauren, and I’m sorry for all of this.”
Mom stares at Reeve’s dad with narrowed eyes. “Perhaps, if you were around more for Reeve, he wouldn’t feel like he needs to sell his soul to be a success just so you’d be proud of him. You’re not innocent in this either, Simon.”
Dad walks up, circling his arms around both of us, and I’ve never been more grateful for my parents’ love and support as I am now. I know this is going to be one of the most painful things I have ever done. I’m going to miss Reeve more than I can describe. But as he walks out the door with his father, I know there can be no going back.
Reeve and I are over, and there is nothing he can say that will ever change my mind.
25
In the two weeks that follow, I barely venture out of my house. Media vultures have camped outside the main gates to North Beverley Park, hoping to catch a glimpse of Reeve or me. The only time I left was to visit my ob-gyn to get tested. Thankfully, the tests came back clear, but that doesn’t prove or disprove Reeve’s claims.
Despite asking for space, my ex is bombarding me daily with gifts, flowers, and notes, and I’ve had to switch off my cell because I can’t read any more of his pleading messages. I asked Mom to deliver the flowers and gifts to a local nursing home and to tell him to stop sending them. Before he left to resume promotion for Twisted Betrayal, he dropped by my house a few times, but my parents are steadfast in honoring my wishes, and they turned him away each and every time.
I want him to stop—I need him to stop—because I meant what I said, and he’s only making it harder.
Audrey is furious with him. She called and ripped into him for doing this to me. Reeve issued a public apology, but I refuse to watch it. My emotions are veering all over the place, and I can’t let myself be swayed. I’m experiencing the full gamut of emotions, and I have days where I can barely get out of bed I’m crying so hard and days when I’m so freaking angry I want to punch the wall until I bleed. Other days, I want to punch myself for being such an idiot. For letting it go on so long. For believing all his lies. For missing him, because I do, and that’s the most pathetic admission.
Most of all, I’m sad. So unbelievably sad.
I’m glad I completed my exams before Christmas because there’s no way I’d be in the right state of mind to focus on anything right now. My heart is broken, and I’ve never experienced such crushing pain, such devastating loss, such debilitating anger.
“Your dad has hired you a bodyguard,” Mom says three days before I’m due to return to UCLA. We’re in the kitchen, seated at the breakfast table, enjoying homemade muffins and freshly squeezed orange juice. “And if the media interest doesn’t die down, we can assign more.”
“I’m sure it’ll be fine,” I say, knowing nothing of the sort. “Dad told me he spoke to Doug, and campus security will be on the case too.”
“I’m worried about you.” She reaches across the table to take my hand. “Have you thought any more about seeing a therapist?”
“You and I both know there’s no way I’d get in and out of a therapist’s office without someone discovering it and reporting it. I’m already a laughingstock. Let’s not make it worse.” She opens her mouth to argue, but I go on, not giving her an opportunity. “I just need time, Mom. Time to process all my feelings. Time to lock Reeve and all our memories into a box and throw away the key.”
“Oh, honey.” Tears pool in her eyes. “That’s not going to be easy. He’s been such a huge part of your life. He was your best friend growing up before he was anything else. I really wish you’d consider therapy. It will help.”
“I know you’re worried, but you need to let me do this my way and in my own time. I can scarcely get out of bed some days as it is.”
“And that’s why you should seek help.”
Getting up, I round the table and pull her into a hug. “Mom, I love you, and I love Dad and everything you are doing for me, but you have to let me handle this my way. I’m going to focus on my studies, go to physical therapy now my cast is off, resume yoga, design dresses, hang out with my bestie, and do everything I can to heal myself,” I say, barely pausing to draw a breath.
She smiles up at me, tucking a piece of my hair behind my ear. “You are so strong, Vivien Grace Mills, and you make your father and me so proud to be your parents.” Her face floods with compassion. “I know you’re hurting, and I wish I could take your pain away. But you will get through this. It might get rougher before it gets better, and if you need us, for anything at all, you only have to ask.”
Mom pulled out of a new role she was preparing to take because she didn’t want to leave L.A. and me behind.
Reeve should take a leaf out of Mom’s playbook.
That’s what true selfless love looks like.
I tried persuading her to change her mind, but she wasn’t having any of it.
“Sometimes, I wish I was a million miles away, someplace no one knew me where I could heal in private without everyone knowing my business,” I murmur.
“I’m sure we could arrange a sabbatical with UCLA if you wanted to defer this semester and go someplace,” Mom suggests, and a light bulb goes off in my head. My eyes widen as possibilities open. I’m not sure I can make it happen at such short notice, but I’m damn well going to try. “I have an idea. Where’s Dad?”
Mom arches one elegant brow. “He’s on set today, but you could call him. You know he’ll make time for his princess.”
“Are you very sure this is what you want to do, honey?” Mom asks a week later as Dad carries the last of my luggage from my bedroom down to the hallway.
“I’m sure.” I smile, and it’s the first genuine smile I’ve had on my face in weeks. “I know it’s all happened superfast, but this feels like the right move.”
“I hate the thought of you being so far from home when you’re not in a good place.” Her brow puckers with worry. I know she’d love to beg me not to do this, but Mom will never interfere in the decisions I make for my life. I’ll be twenty in April, and it’s time I started living independently of my parents…and Reeve. I need to prove to myself that I can survive without him. That life will go on and it will get better.
“I promise I will see a therapist,” I remind her. “It should be easy to go about my business unnoticed in Dublin.”
At least, that’s the plan. From the research I’ve done online, Ireland sounds like the ideal place to hide until all the interest in me dies down. Though I refuse to think of it as hiding. It’s more akin to self-preservation. I’m taking time for myself, to heal, away from the fishbowl that is my current life in L.A. I’m nervous but excited too.
I’m thrilled at the prospect of studying at Trinity College Dublin, one of the world’s most renowned and reputable colleges. Established in 1592, it boasts prestigious alumni. I will be joining the likes of Oscar Wilde and Samuel Beckett as an English literature student, and I’m giddy at the prospect of exploring all that wonderful Irish heritage and legendary Irish charm.
“I’m proud of you, princess.” Dad reels me into a smothering hug. “We’re going to miss you so much, but I think this is wonderful. Your mom does too. She just can’t help worrying.”