Bonnie’s head nods furiously in understanding, as if she gets that this was part of some large, cosmic game plan. She then looks to Eden, clears her throat, and says with a tentative smile, “Welcome home, Eden. This town sure is proud of you.”
“Thank you, Bonnie,” Eden tells her, her voice smooth as silk with a polished sheen I imagine came from years of being in the public eye. “That’s very kind of you.”
I bet Eden really wants to punch her and everyone else for being so rude to her yesterday.
“I’ll get this spread around,” Bonnie says as she looks back at me. “I mean…I’ll get your sweet teas and be right back to take your order.”
After Bonnie leaves us, I turn to look at Eden. She’s shaking her head with a silly smile on her face.
“You are too much,” she says softly.
Before I can respond, her phone starts chiming like crazy again from the top of the table where she’d set it. She gives a pained sigh, picks it up, and looks at it a moment before setting it back down.
“If you need to respond to that,” I say as my gaze cuts to her phone, then back to her.
She shakes her head. “It’s Brad, and I have no desire to respond to him.”
I can honestly say now that Eden is a friend, and this was made possible by finally learning she had no clue about the fire or my dad dying. We have history together, and while we ended on not the greatest of terms, they weren’t bad either. We’ve also reconnected in a very physical and intimate way.
I can only assume that for all those reasons—and despite the fact we’ve been joking about our exes—I have a wave of jealousy overcome me as I realize Brad’s reaching out to her. I just assumed he’d fade away and continue with the chick he was screwing behind Eden’s back.
I can’t help myself by asking. “What’s he want?”
Rather than answer me, Eden surprises me by picking up her phone and handing it over. It’s tacit permission for me to read his messages. My eyes move over the words as I use my thumb to scroll through the texts on the screen.
We need to talk. I’m really sorry for what happened. My intention was never to hurt you. Can you please call me? I’ve left you a few voicemails. Are you getting them?
I went to your house and I know you’re gone. Colleen won’t tell me where you are. We really need to talk.
Eden…please. Call me.
I know you’re reading these texts as they come in. Your phone is practically attached to your hip. Just call me.
I get you’re mad. And I’m sorry my anger got the best of me too and I said those nasty things about you. But you know how this industry works. This will be old news by next week. Please call me. I’m so sorry and I love you too much to not give my best effort to make this work.
Eden…baby…please. I’ve cut things off with Lilliana. It was a stupid mistake, and I was just lonely from being away from you for so long filming. I will do whatever you want to make this up to you.
After I finish reading the messages, I hand the phone back to Eden and she sets it on the table.
“Sounds like he’s really sorry and wants to give it a go to make things work,” I offer hesitantly.
Eden snorts. “He’s worried about his next film that I agreed to play a small role in. He wants my acting credibility, given my Oscar, and knows the press over Hollywood’s golden couple being in a movie together will boost the film.”
I blink at her in surprise. “Is it really that cutthroat? Not about feelings but about business?”
“Every single thing about this industry is nothing but business.” Her tone is matter-of-fact, but there’s an underlying bitterness there. “It’s a tradeoff. I get to do what I love doing, but it’s a very lonely profession. Everyone’s trying to climb over your back and shoulders to get to the top.”
“And you’re at the top,” I say softly, imagining a lot of people want to take advantage of Eden.
“See, that’s just it,” she says heatedly. “I’m not at the top. I’ve won the top award once, and even that little bit Brad wants to take advantage of.”
Bonnie interrupts us by bringing us sweet teas with thick wedges of lemon perched on the glasses’ rims. Sweet tea is the official drink of the south, and it’s not adequately made unless your teeth hurt when you drink it. The Pit Stop’s sweet tea is to die for. “Here you go, sweetie pies. Now do you know what you want to eat? Arnie has his famous meatloaf on special today.”
“That actually sounds good to me,” Eden says without having even looking at the menu.
“I’ll have the same, Bonnie,” I add.
She beams a smile at me, levels an even brighter one at Eden, and then disappears to put our orders in.
I turn toward Eden and lay my arm across the back of the booth just above her shoulders. I itch to touch her hair, but I don’t need the gossip mill running too rampant with guesses as to what may be going on between us. Because fuck…I have no clue myself.
“So what’s the deal with you and Brad?” I ask her.
“What do you mean?” She lifts her tea, takes a small sip, and sighs with pleasure. “You can’t beat true southern sweet tea.”
“You don’t seem overly broken up over him,” I say, noting something that struck me from the moment I saw Eden pull up in front of Goodnight House. She didn’t look broken at all. Just…weary.
Eden shrugs. “I guess I’m still too angry to process the hurt.”
“Did you cry?” I ask her bluntly.
“Excuse me?” She pulls her chin back to look at me with surprise.
“Did you cry when you found out?” I clarify.
“I…well, yeah, I cried,” she says, and I can tell she had to think about it a moment. “As I ran down the red carpet, looking for my limo.”
“Was that the only time?” I push at her, and I know why this is so important for me to know the details, but damn if I don’t really want them.
“Yes…the car ride home,” she says in exasperation. “What’s your point, Coop?”
I take my gaze off her just a moment to reach out to my sweet tea. I take the lemon off the edge and toss it to the table before taking a sip.
After I set the glass down, I turn a bit further in my seat so I’m facing her. “When you and I broke up, there was a lot of crying on your part. Weeks of it.”
Eden’s eyes drop to the table as she reflects on that. Eden and I didn’t have an abrupt breakup. It happened over time, naturally occurring because of the distance separating us and the sudden turn in her life that pulled her away from me. We both clung to the idea of “us” far longer than we should have. There were weeks of phone calls where she’d be sobbing into the phone that she wanted to quit and come back, and then the next call was that she didn’t want to give up the opportunity. Our last conversation—the one that ended it officially—lasted for almost three hours, and Eden cried during most of it.
With Brad, she cried on the car ride home.
That makes me feel fucking awesome, and I know I’m a schmuck for that.
When Eden lifts her eyes back to me, they’re slightly hardened. Shrewd even. “When I left college and started this new career, from the very start I had no one.”