lease? Give up everything she’s worked for? It’s madness.
“I won’t let you do this,” I swear through clenched teeth. “This is your moment. And believe me when I say that a moment is more than most people get. I won’t be the reason you give it up.”
Iris steps closer to me, tenderness the only emotion in her eyes. “Beau, I’d never hold you responsible—”
“I would.”
“Beau—” She reaches for me. I step back.
“No,” I manage, yanking up a hand. I can’t touch her right now. I can’t touch her ever again. I won’t be able to go through with this if I do.
And I have to go through with this. Her future—her happiness—depends on it. And her happiness is all that matters. I refuse to be the selfish bastard in her life.
I clear my aching throat and force myself to meet her eyes. And goddamn it if she doesn’t look crushed.
Her happiness is all that matters. She’ll thank me later.
“I’m sorry, Iris. I hate hurting you—”
“Then don’t.” Her voice catches on don’t, her eyes wide and wet. It fucking kills me.
“I hate hurting you,” I say again through clenched teeth. “But this is over.”
“Beau.” My name is little more than a gasp. The color drains from her face, and I watch as she clutches her middle, as if crossing her arms over her most vulnerable parts could spare her the pain I’m delivering.
She’s so pale, I flashback to that first night—our first dance lesson—when I saw her for who she was and not whom I’d expected her to be. Someone loving. Someone fragile. Someone so innocent and funny and beautiful.
Someone unlike anyone else I’ve even known.
“I’m sorry, Iris.” I say her name one last time.
And then I’m gone.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
IRIS
“We should go for a drink! Celebrate!” Lisa says. “I know I could use a margarita.”
I smile at my new manager. I really like her, and I am excited about the show. But I’m going to disappoint her because I don’t feel like going out.
We’re leaving Sunset Bronson Studios where I just signed a contract for the lead in Couch Surfing, a Netflix original series. I get to play Mamie McBride, a college drop-out who decides she needs to figure out where her life is going by spending a year hopping from place to place on what she calls her Airbnb Scholarship. Unfortunately, she has a tiny kleptomania problem.
It’s fantastic.
The writing is outrageously funny.
It’s what I’ve always dreamed about.
And I’m happy. Really, I am.
I just don’t feel like celebrating. Or, rather, I do, but the person I want to celebrate with—the one who gave me the courage to claim the career path I truly wanted—won’t see me. Or take my calls. Or respond to my texts.
I’ve seriously considered sending a candy-gram to his classroom. Apparently, I have no shame. Maybe a messenger pigeon would be more original.
Lisa and I step out of the high rise into the midday, L.A. sun. I shade my eyes and spot Ramon parked at the curb on Sunset Boulevard. He gives me a sad wave. I give him a sad wave back.
Ramon has been my lifeline the six weeks since we left Louisiana. I’ve been his.
Knowing he understands exactly how I feel makes this heartbreak just a little easier. Knowing he needs me around to cheer him up makes me put on a smile even when I don’t feel like smiling.
He hugs me when I reach him, and we both cling a little longer than normal. Because our bodies are starving without them.
And I’ve never felt this before. I miss Beau’s touch so badly, my skin aches. It’s like a fever without the heat. In fact, I don’t think I’ve ever been so cold in Los Angeles.
We untangle from each other, but Ramon clasps my hand lightly, taking and giving support. He looks even sadder than he did this morning, and I know he spent a few hours on the phone with Sally.
We say goodbye to Lisa and get into my Altima. Something’s wrong, and as soon as Ramon settles in the driver’s seat, I don’t waste any time asking.
“What is it? Did something happen?”
My PA/personal trainer/nutritionist/body guard drags a hand through his hair. His neck and shoulders slump like he’s carrying a boulder.
“Oh shit, what did she do?” I was fully prepared for Ramon to break Sally’s heart. Turns out, it’s happening the other way around. I know Ray asked her to move out here, and I know Sally turned him down. But at least she didn’t