Page 77 of The Actor and His Secret

My secrets. I’ve had so many. When I was seventeen years old, I tried to escape my abusive home with my mother. Because of my attempt, my father killed her. I tried to kill him in return. I ran away from home, leaving behind the promise of being blamed and convicted for my mother’s death - although I wasn’t the one to push her, my actions are what drove my father to do it, so I suppose it was my fault. Since then I have been running from demons - my father - who chased my success, holding my past over my head like a guillotine, unless I paid him. But all that running forced me into the hands of a man who opened my mind in ways I never believed possible. My life changed in a split second when my mother fell down those stairs, so it is not impossible to believe that it would take two weeks with Oliver Cane for it to change again.

I take a deep breath, find my camera and stare deep into the lens. I have a sense of the millions of people watching, those ready to post my admission across social media. I have an image of the big-wigs at the film studios, sat around a TV in a board room, leaning in with anticipation, waiting for me to make my career or break it.

But what is success without a person to enjoy it with? A waste. Like my life has been until Oli.

‘My name is Nikos Ridge, and I am head over heels, unequivocally, unapologetically and viciously in love with a man. His name is Oliver Cane, and you all saw him in those pictures. He is not my friend, my publicist, or the brother of a woman who you all believe me to be engaged to. He is Oli. He is simply my Honey, and I am his. And I love him because he loves me, past, present, and future - I hope. And he’s here right now.’

The studio is silent. Hell, the entire world goes quiet. But I don’t. Now I’ve started, the words just flow out of me. And I tell the watching world our story, from beginning and through the middle. I would’ve told them the end, but there isn’t one yet.

I don’t ever want there to be an end.

I can feel the cool kiss of eyes on the side of my face, and I know Oli is watching. But I can’t have a distraction. Not until the last words fall out of my lips. Only then do I turn off stage, extend a hand for him and offer him four words.

‘I love you, too.’

31

OLI

I cannot overstate the utter fucking relief of hearing Nikos say that he loves me.

I don’t care that I’m dishevelled, jet-lagged, and wearing yesterday’s clothes. I take one look at Nikos’ outstretched hand and the pleading look on his face and know there’s no way I could leave my man alone up on stage, not with what he’s just done. Not with the way he’s just told the world that I’m his.

Shrugging off the enormous scarf I’m wearing and pulling off my coat leaves me in just a jumper and jeans - not the best showing for the lover of Nikos Ridge, international heartthrob. But the way he’s grinning at me, like I’m his entire world, shows me that he couldn’t care less.

Nikos never cared about anything other than who I was inside. It’s the best gift he could have given me - showing me that who I am is enough. That I’m worthy of being the centre of a love story, just as I am.

He stands up as I walk onto the stage, a production assistant literally shoving a mic into the collar of my jumper as I walk. When I wobble across the set, delirious with relief and excitement and exhaustion, Nikos is there to catch me. He grabs my hand and then pulls me to him, wrapping his hand around the back of my neck and kissing me like it’s the last time our lips will ever touch.

It’s not the last, I think as I relax into him, breathing in his familiar scent, letting him hold me close. It’s just the first.

I pull back and he chases me, pressing a kiss to my forehead. His eyes are shining, and I put a hand to his chest to steady him. His heart is thumping against his ribs so hard that I’m impressed he’s still standing and not in a dead faint.

‘Thank you, Honey,’ he whispers.

I’m choked up now, so all I do is nod. And then I remember that right now, I’m live on nationally telly, and I freeze. But Nikos squeezes my hand and sits, tugging me down into the chair next to him.

‘Oh my God,’ is what the interviewer says. She looks like she’s about to have a heart attack, or vomit, or both. I can see the producers off to the side, looking somewhere between gleeful and terrified, likely calculating just how much this one interview is going to net them in streaming revenue or something of the sort.

If I was their publicist, I’d be having a field day. Nikos Ridge coming out as some variant of not straight and in love with a man on my morning show which normally only breaks the news of different types of muffin recipes? I’d have died and gone to marketing heaven.

But right now, I turn my attention to Nikos. Because for once, I’m not telling the story - I’m a part of it.

‘Well,’ the interviewer continues, pulling herself together. ‘This is quite the revelation. Oliver, it’s lovely to have you on. How did you meet Nikos?’

I’m impressed with the way she’s pivoted. I can see the notecards shaking in her hands, though, and for a moment I feel bad that we totally hijacked her morning. The poor woman is going to need a strong drink after this debacle. ‘In the toilets, actually.’

The interviewer is in the middle of taking a drink of water, and I can see her choke on it and try valiantly not to cough as the water goes into her lungs from the shock. ’I’m sorry, did you say the toilets?’

‘In America, we’d call it the bathroom.’ Nikos’ laugh is warm, his eyes sparkling. His hand tightens in mine, like he’s never going to let me go. ‘I was panicking before the premier of An Age of Dragons. A lot has happened in my life that I’ve never been open about, and anxiety is one of those things. I was having a panic attack, because publicity makes me nervous. I’m scared of crowds, and sometimes my social anxiety is awful. Oli was kind enough to help me. It was the first moment in my adult life I felt seen by another person as a man first, and not an actor.’

Nikos looks to me, and I lick my lips and continue, hoping that my voice doesn’t wobble. ‘I actually had no idea who he was.’

The interviewer’s eyes bulge. ‘You what?’

‘I didn’t recognise him one bit.’ I smile at the expression on her face. ‘I know, I know - it seems ridiculous to not recognise one of the planet’s biggest heartthrobs, especially when you’ve spent months working on the book tie-in to his movie. But his hair was different, and he wasn’t dressed in dirty leather.’

Nikos snorts. ‘Not usually my outfit of choice, at least in public.’

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