know it might be a bit hard since it’s your story, but I want to understand what you were going through and where your head was at during those dark days. I think it will help me make peace with some of the disappointment I still harbor from that time in my life.”
I gulped guiltily and assured her, “Of course, I’ll send it to you.” It was on the tip of my tongue to apologize for the millionth time for my previous actions, but she already said she forgave me, and I had to accept her words as true or I would forever doubt myself.
Maybe I needed to do the same thing when it came to Maren. She said she liked me. She told me she enjoyed being with me. She mentioned that she was learning a lot about me and appreciated the man I’d become, as well as the work I’d put in to figure out how to be him. While she said everything I wanted to hear, I still doubted myself because I couldn’t shake the feeling that I wasn’t good enough. I still wondered if she really forgave me for dragging her down all those years ago.
It was entirely possible I needed to forgive myself instead of wondering if Maren had really forgiven me or not.
Maren
“ARE YOU OKAY?”
I looked up from my blank phone screen and glanced at Arrow. The look on her face told me it wasn’t the first time she’d asked the question. I wondered how long I’d been zoned out, waiting for a call or message that didn’t come. It shouldn’t bother me that Salinger had gone silent after we left the set. After all, I was the one who told him we needed to focus on work for the time being. I’d refused his offer to stay in a luxury, high-rise condo in downtown Vancouver for the duration of our time on location. I’d barely started to get my head around the fact I was sleeping with him regularly. There was no way in hell I could contemplate living with him as well. I understood I was trying to protect myself because things started to feel a little more serious with him than I signed on for. I wasn’t ready for a relationship, and when I was, it wouldn’t be with a guy who was a recovering addict and a decade younger than me. I convinced myself that I would date someone in a different industry, but realistically that probably wouldn’t work out. Salinger seemed like he was anticipating my response and didn’t bother to hide his disappointment.
He was always followed the direction I wanted to move, even if it was backward instead of forward.
But as the days dragged on, I found myself missing him during off-hours. And I definitely missed having him in my bed, and not only because I was horny. I’d gotten used to having someone to talk to in the darkness. I found myself rolling instinctively toward the empty side of the bed in search of a warm body. It was hard to go back to being cold all the way down to my bones when some of the ice that encased my insides had started to melt.
I wanted to appreciate that he was abiding by every single line in that damn contract I made him sign. He even showed up earlier than I did for rehearsal and table reads, and there wasn’t a hint of the unprofessional kid I hated working with before. But something felt off, almost like he was trying too hard to be perfect and had lost that rebellious spark that was so much a part of who he was. He hadn’t even attempted to get me to change my mind about keeping our focus on the film or tried to lure me into any kind of sleepover. On set, he was the consummate professional; off, he was behaving like a perfect gentleman.
I missed his mischief and the wildness that was such a breath of fresh air in my otherwise highly ordered life. Everything was back to being dreadfully boring, so I had an all-new appreciation for how much excitement and unexpectedness Salinger brought into my world.
I forced a smile and waved a hand in my assistant’s direction. She was spending the weekdays with me while I worked but flying home every weekend. Since I refused to cohabitate with Salinger, I was glad she was around so I wasn’t lonely and had someone to talk