is to you to have her at least see the script, and I do agree that she deserves a sincere apology from you now that you can actually feel remorse.” He lifted his chin in a slightly arrogant manner. His confidence level didn’t fit with his young age. “We’ll figure it out. We always do.”
I grunted my agreement and hauled myself upright once again. I waved off my brother and assured him I’d be up and ready in time. I dragged a hand down my tired face and tried to shake the fog loose from my mind. It was hard to focus considering the lack of sleep, but for some reason, every minute I spent with Maren Copeland was burned into my brain.
I barely knew who she was before I agreed to do our show. When we met, I thought she was so strange, like an alien from another planet. She was so proper, so polite, so pure. I couldn’t understand how someone could be like her in real life and yet be successful in show business. I loved to irritate her and push every button she had. It was my favorite thing in the whole world to get under her skin and get her riled up. The only reason she busted me doing all sorts of bad things with her makeup artist back in the day was because I wanted her to. I had no idea I was taking things too far back then. I couldn’t see the edge of the cliff I was about to fall over.
Maren was the only one who reached out a hand to stop the free fall.
I wished every single day that I’d been smart enough to grab it.
I’d ruined her life when all she wanted to do was save mine. Only I’d been too immature and self-indulgent to see it at the time.
I owed her more than amends when it came right down to it. The only humanity I had, the only compassion I retained when I sank into a deep, endless darkness, was the little bit she showed me before I ruined her life.
Maren
I SET DOWN my iPad on the table in front of me and looked out at the ocean. The place I’d bought on the beach in Malibu was drastically smaller than the home where I’d lived with my ex in Bel Air, but it cost close to the same. I preferred the view here. And the company.
When I lived with Erik, I was surrounded by a silent staff that was there to take care of my every need. At first, it was impressive and made me feel like I finally hit my stride as someone who’d arrived in the industry. Even when I was on television every week, I’d lived simply on the advice of my manager and agent. They told me it wasn’t wise to blow through everything I made while I was young and impressionable, so I listened. It wasn’t until I was kicked off the long-running drama that I realized they didn’t want me to spend all my money because they took more of it than they were entitled to.
When I was living with my ex, it didn’t take long for the constant flow of staff to feel invasive and over the top. I was a simple girl from New Mexico. I came from a single-parent home. I spent a lot of time alone when I was growing up because my dad often worked more than one job to keep food on the table and a roof over my head. He’d always emphasized that you appreciate what you had when you were forced to work hard for it, and while my career was anything but smooth sailing, I couldn’t justify being waited on hand and foot every single day. But my ex was a giant man-baby and couldn’t handle the smallest task on his own. I’d tried to teach him the basics but gave up out of sheer frustration when he made it clear he had no interest in being self-sufficient.
The beach house was quiet, serene, and I only had someone come in and clean for me when I got really busy or was away on location for long periods of time. It was the one piece of property that was mine outright and had nothing to do with my ex or my failed marriage. It was the one thing I owned that I refused to compromise on when my divorce turned ugly. My ex wasn’t