Page 22 of Falling Like Stars

“Why?”

“Regret, I guess.” His eyes meet mine across the water. “I didn’t want to talk about the Oscars and the Crazy 8 nomination because it’s like another little knife in my side. Because I actually had fun making that movie. It was one of the best experiences I’ve had.”

“It showed.”

“Being nominated for that role is just icing on the cake, but Eva…” He shakes his head, his lips drawn down as he takes a pull of wine. “She says the last thing I need is an award to feed my ego. That I want people to like me too much.”

“I would’ve gone with ‘congrats’ but that’s just me.”

He smiles wanly. “She wasn’t always like this and that’s my biggest regret.”

“What do you mean?”

“I couldn’t fix it with her. On the TV show…” He stops, checks in with me. “She and I were on that show, Godsent?”

I arch a brow. “That six-season pop culture phenomenon? Never heard of it.”

He nudges my elbow with his, then sighs. “The Godsent fame went to Eva’s head, and she changed. I didn’t see the signs quick enough or else I would’ve grabbed her and taken her to some hideaway too. To keep her safe.”

I want the next question in our little interview to be who’s keeping him safe, but I take a sip of wine instead.

Zachary runs a hand through his dark hair. “Jesus, listen to me. Your relaxing hot tub time has become my therapy session.”

“I don’t mind.”

“No?” He smiles. “Because you’re really easy to talk to. Or maybe it’s just that I’m talking at you and you’re too polite to tell me to shut up.”

“Impossible. I’m not remotely polite.”

He laughs. “Okay, but we need to even things up. Your turn. What’s your biggest regret?”

The water suddenly feels cold, and my chest too heavy. It’s too big, my answer. I should say pass and get out of the tub and stop talking to this man who makes me feel like it’s okay to let some of it out.

Zach’s easy smile fades as he takes in my reaction. “Oh hey. You don’t have to—”

“There was someone,” I say in a low tone. “Someone…important. And one of my biggest regrets is that…”

I helped kill him.

“I…didn’t say enough to him when I had the chance.”

“So he left?” Zach asks gently.

“Yeah,” I say thickly. “He left.”

He nods, his expression kind, and full of empathy, and it hurts to look at him. I move for the wine glass and take a long pull, pulling myself together at the same time.

“Anyway,” I say, when I can trust myself to speak. “It was a long time ago.”

“But the regret still lingers, doesn’t it? It’s an asshole that way.” Zach glances at his phone. “I think there comes a point where we just have to let go. Move on and try to learn from our mistakes and not keep punishing ourselves for them.”

“How do you do that?” I ask, trying not to sound desperate.

Zach smiles sadly. “When I find out, you’ll be the first to know.”

There’s a long moment of silence. The air between us, heated and steamy, has changed. We’ve changed, he and I, as if we leapfrogged a bunch of steps that took us from virtual strangers to…something else.

We can’t be anything else.

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