Page 100 of One Life to Loathe

“I thought if we did it that the sparks would flame out.”

“That happens sometimes.”

“Well, it didn’t happen this time.” I threw myself against the vehicle’s leather interior and pinched the bridge of my nose. “We said it would be one night but I knew. I tried to stay away from her but didn’t even make it a single day. It was as if I physically couldn’t stay away.”

“And now?”

“We agreed that there would be an expiration date on the relationship,” I explained. “I have things I need to do and she … doesn’t. If this show fails, she’s going to stay here. She’s fallen in love with the town … and the people. She wants to own a magic shop and drink pumpkin martinis for the rest of her life.”

“And what do you want?”

“I want her to be happy.”

“No.” Alexander was somber when he shook his head. “What do you want for yourself?”

That was the problem. “I’ve always wanted to be a big action star.”

“Why?”

“What do you mean why?”

“Why a big action star?”

“Because … because … I don’t know. When I used to go to the movies when I was a kid—which was often—I would always imagine myself in the lead role. I would be the one jumping out of planes or shooting the enemy.”

“The one the woman ran to at the end and threw herself at?”

“Not necessarily. It wasn’t the women that did it for me.”

“No? What did it for you?”

“What does it matter? I’m here to talk about Sam.”

“We’re getting to Sam. I need to know what did it for you in the action movies.”

I had to think about it for a long time. “I like that they won. Even when they were hurt, they got back up.” I thought about my parents and a few things clicked into place. “I didn’t have the happiest childhood,” I acknowledged.

“Tell me about it.”

“I don’t want to spend a lot of time dwelling on it.” That was true. “Just suffice it to say my father was a dick and my mother was a professional victim. I know that’s wrong to say because my father used to hurt my mother, but she had a chance to stop it. She had a chance to take me away from him and put him behind bars.”

“And what did she do instead?”

“She put me behind bars. All because she couldn’t see her life without him. That’s what she told me when she visited me in jail that weekend anyway.”

We’d reached the outskirts of Salem—not in the Boston direction, though—and Alexander kept driving. “What did your mother say to you when she visited you in jail?”

This memory was seared into my brain. “She apologized for having me arrested, but said it was the only thing she could do. It wouldn’t hurt me as much as my father to go to jail.”

“What did you say?”

“I begged her to tell the truth and leave my father.”

“Obviously, she didn’t do that.”

“No. She said my father was broken and it was her job to fix him. She actually believed that. She thought she could put him back together.”

“And what did you believe at the time?”

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