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“When?”

“Tomorrow.”

And there it is, that drop of the hat that I knew was coming but hadn’t prepared for yet. Quickly turning my eyes back to Larsen as she leans over a counter in the kitchen reading a textbook, I’m not sure how I can say goodbye to her. I’m not sure I’ll ever be ready to say goodbye to her.

“Now, can you show me where I’ll be staying the night?”

Solemnly I tilt my head back toward Tessa and try my best to smile at her warmly. I fail miserably. I am glad to see my cousin, she’s my best friend, but I thought I had a few more days with Larsen.

“Yeah, I’ll show you where I’m staying. Follow me.”

I guide Tessa from the counter, but just as I’m about to pass through the doors I turn to look back toward the kitchen and I find Larsen staring at me as well. I can’t read the expression on her face and I think that part hurts the most, that I don’t know what she’s feeling about this situation. Her mind isn’t something I can get a read on, but she wears her emotions on her sleeve.

I mouth I’m sorry to her but she turns her attention back to her nursing textbook propped up on the counter.

“Devyn?” Tessa calls out as she patiently waits for me to escort her to the apartment.

“Yeah, I’m coming.”

As if she’s been here before, Tessa settles in the apartment. Like me, she is impressed at the furnishings the moment we cross the doorstep. Strangely, after going into Larsen’s apartment the other day, I much prefer her style, a bit more eclectic and warm, filled with antiques over this cool modern style.

Tessa goes through my schedule for the next three months of filming and she tries to press me for information on Larsen, but I don’t give anything away. I can’t even if I wanted to. I have no idea what she and I are. We agreed on friendship, but I feel like something else could have blossomed had we been given time. But time has never been on my side.

She also arranges for a towing service to pick up the Porsche when it’s finished and take it back to our home. Surprisingly she doesn’t berate me for running off and not keeping in touch. Maybe it’s because she’s able to track me, or perhaps it’s because she knew what telling me about my parents would do to me. Every time they’re mentioned I revert back to the hurt seven-year old wishing for their love and affection instead of the fake family I had onscreen.

“Flight leaves at 8 a.m. sharp. I need to get the rental back so be prepared for an early departure.”

“Yeah, okay,” I say mindlessly.

“Hey, Devyn.” My head pops up at the tone of her voice; it’s not one I’ve heard before. Pity and anger, sure I’m used to those, but this one is more of true unhappiness. “I am sorry. I wish that I could give you more time, but we need to stay focused. This picture could be the best thing for you. Don’t let all of your hard work go to waste.”

“I know, Tessa. I knew what I was giving up when I signed on for the role. The alcohol hasn’t been a problem. I can move on past this place too,” I tell her.

“What about the girl?”

The girl. The way she says it almost makes me want to fight or justify my need to stay a while longer, but I know better.

“Yeah. Don’t worry about her,” I lie and it burns like acid all the way to my stomach.

Tessa’s eyes narrow and I know that she doesn’t believe me. But as long as I keep my head in the game, she has no reason to think otherwise.

Together we head to the market to grab fixings for lunch and dinner. Between the two meals Tessa reads over the script with me, helping me get into character. I forgot how much I love this part, setting yourself aside and stepping into someone else’s world.

We read through the script twice before Tessa calls it a night.

A few minutes later, Tessa heads to the bedroom, and I settle on the couch watching the black screen. The streetlights from outside begin to flick on and they glimmer within the blackness like a motion picture. Ironic.

Unable to sit still, I walk around the apartment, doing nothing to keep my stomps on t

he quieter side of the noise spectrum. I’m restless, edgy, impatient. The door to the apartment beckons me and I don’t hesitate to slip past the barrier.

I make it to the top of the stairwell then stop short. I remember how easily Larsen turned away earlier. She must know that I’m leaving. She must know that my trip has been cut short. And she made no indication that she wants me to stay. The way her attention went back to her book cut deep.

Of course, who am I fooling? I chose my career overstaying as well.

Temporary. This was all temporary, I tell myself. Then why does it feel like I’m going to miss out on something?

My feet falter as I stand at the peak of the stairs. Instead, they move me backward, closer to the door I just exited. My back collides with the wall and I slip down its grainy surface, not caring about the cleanliness as I settle on the floor. My knees bend toward the sky and I rest my elbows on top, leaning my head in my hands. I close my eyes and let the black abyss draw me in.


Tags: Renee Harless Romance