she says. “We should at least put out a joint statement.”
“We are not saying anything yet,” I say. “Nothing. I need to get home and …” I don’t say another word. I just go into the room and pack my shit.
I take my shit and toss it into the bag. My head is swimming, and I suddenly feel like I’m drowning. I reach for my phone, and I come up empty, so all I can do is sit on the bed. I wonder where she is and who she is with. If she believes any of it.
There is a knock on the door, and I look up. “Hey,” Lizzie says, poking her head in.
“Your phone is shattered, so I put the SIM card in this one.” She hands me the phone. “I thought that you might want it.”
“She isn’t going to answer me.” My voice is low, and Lizzie comes over and sits next to me. “Fuck.” I shake my head. “I wouldn’t talk to me.”
“I’m sure once you tell her everything,” Lizzie says quietly.
I take the phone and text Manning and Miller the same text.
Me: Call me when you get this text.
I then call her again, and it goes straight to voice mail this time. I hear her voice, and the pressure that I felt before comes back. I have to rub my chest. “We can leave. The plane is waiting,” Lizzie tells me, and I nod at her. “I know that you are going through something right now.” I look up at her, and I wonder if she can see what I’m going through.
“She is never going to talk to me again.” I say the words I’ve been afraid to think since I first opened my eyes, and my nightmare started. “With all of this.” I shake my head, and I feel the sting coming to my eyes. “She’ll never talk to me again.”
“She’s a smart woman,” Lizzie says, and I want to tell her that she is more than that. She’s smart, she’s funny, she’s beautiful, and she’s the most loyal person I’ve ever met. “But.” I look over at her, not sure I want to hear the but. “But if you don’t give the press anything, they are going to hound you even more, and it’s not going to be good for anyone.”
“I’m not saying anything until I see her,” I say the truth. “I’m not saying a fucking word about a fucking marriage that is fake to begin with.”
“I know that.” She points at herself. “And you know that. But they …” She points at the window. “Don’t know any of this. To them, you guys were friends who are suddenly married, and they want to be the one who gets the scoop.”
“You want to put out a statement,” I say, getting up. “We thank you in advance, but this is a private matter and will remain a private matter.”
“That is like baiting them,” she says. I know she’s right, but I can’t say anything else right now.
“So then I say nothing,” I say. Laurene’s phone pings in her hand, and she looks up at me when she sees it. “What?”
“Just pictures of the two of us,” she says, and I shake my head.
“From six years ago when we attended a fucking function?” I ask, going to her, and she holds up her phone.
“More or less.” She turns the phone, and it’s the one we took last year and then a couple of us on vacation. I read the headline and groan.
A romance undercover. Six signs that they were always together.
“This is why I said you have to say something,” Lizzie says. “Or else it’s going to be bullshit articles like this, and it can make it worse.”
I laugh bitterly. “Make it worse.” I shake my head. “How the fuck can it be any worse? The woman who …” I stop myself before I admit to her that I love Becca. I figured that Becca should be the first to hear those words and not someone else. “The woman who I’m actually in a relationship with probably woke up to this shit.” I point at the phone. “And I need to get fucking home so I can go and see her.”
“I’ll pack and be ready.” Lizzie looks at me. “We’ll get her back,” she says, walking out of the room, and the lone tear runs down my cheek.
“Becca,” I say her name in a whisper. “Please,” I plead with the fucking universe to help me.