‘My sisters and me, yes.’
‘It’s heartbreaking to read about their story. I’m so sorry you had to go through that. And I’m desperate to see them all get to happier times. That’s if you’ll let me read more of it.’
His smile didn’t reach his eyes. It barely reached his lips, really. She wanted to touch his face, rub the sadness from his expression. Take his pain away, so hers could go, too. And it was such a strange feeling, in stark contrast to her emotions earlier. Where she’d wanted to hurt him only hours ago, she now wanted to comfort.
‘Of course you can read it. I’d love that. All your suggestions, your edits, they were really helpful.’ She bit her lip again. ‘I should have read them before I reacted.’
‘You don’t need to keep apologising. If anybody should be sorry, it’s me.’ He reached out for her hand, taking it in his. She was getting accustomed to the feel of his skin. ‘And I am sorry, so fucking sorry for ruining your dreams. For hurting you. If I could go back and change it all I would.’ He blew out a mouthful of air. ‘You must really miss your mom.’
A lump formed in her throat. ‘Yes,’ she said quietly.
‘It must have been horrible losing her so young.’
She wiped the budding tears away with the back of her hand. ‘It was.’ She wanted to say more, but the words seized up in her throat.
‘When the play folded, it must have felt like you were losing her all over again.’
The tears spilled out. She tried to swallow the emotion back down. ‘It felt exactly like that,’ she whispered. ‘Nobody’s ever described it that way before. But yes, writing the play had been cathartic, and seeing it staged was beyond my wildest imagination. When it all went wrong, it almost killed me.’
‘I was such an asshole.’
‘Whatever you did, you must have had your reasons.’
‘I thought I did . . . I was . . . ’ He faded out, staring at her. ‘Yeah, they seemed important at the time.’
‘And now? Are they still important?’
His expression changed. He stared over her shoulder, his eyes cloudy. She wanted to reach out and smooth out his worry lines. ‘It’s boring,’ he said, his voice cracking. ‘Family stuff.’
‘But as you said, it must have been important at the time.’ Her stomach twisted. There was something about the way his eyes were watering that made her feel anxious.
‘It was,’ he whispered. He exhaled loudly, then rubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands. ‘But it’s boring. Nothing to write a play about.’ He refused to meet her stare.
‘It doesn’t sound like nothing,’ she said softly. ‘You know, sometimes it’s good to talk about things.’
Sam still stared at the floor, his body as still as a statue. His jaw was twitching, as though he was grinding his teeth. When he finally looked up at her, his expression was blank.
‘There’s nothing to talk about,’ he told her. ‘And even if there was, I don’t go around spilling my guts left, right and centre. Unless it’s written in a script.’
It felt like a verbal slap. ‘I was only trying to be nice. I’m not as interested in you as you think I am,’ she snapped.
‘What?’ He frowned. ‘Where did that come from?’
She felt hurt that he’d thrown her sympathy back in her face. Did he really believe his own hype? But then, why wouldn’t he: he was gorgeous, successful, and had everything he’d ever wanted. Why would he even care what she thought?
She shrugged. ‘From you. Look at you: everything about you is perfection. You’ve got it all, haven’t you? The looks, the career, more money than you know what to do with. It’s all come so easily to you.’
His eyes narrowed. ‘You don’t know anything about me.’ His tone was a warning.
‘I know what everybody else knows,’ she told him. ‘It’s hard to avoid you. You’re in every magazine.’
‘And you believe that shit?’ he asked, his hands clenching and unclenching. ‘You believe everything you read? Well maybe you should grow up, Cesca. You know nothing about me. Nothing at all.’
He stood there, his expression furious, staring at her, awaiting a response. She opened and closed her mouth three times, trying to find the words, but failing miserably.
In the end, only two would do.
‘I’m sorry,’ she said softly.