Page 11 of Between the Lines

He couldn’t fix myactualproblem though.

I spent the night wanting to disappear into the floor, but there were so many cameras, so many people, I just put all my energy into keeping the deep distress I really felt off my face.

The first drink barely did anything.

The second helped.

By the third, I was good and numb.

When my name was called for my award, it didn’t even register at first.

It wasn’t until Pierre and Logan had hopped up, hyped, that I realized what happened.

The video clips of that moment weregreat.

I got memed.

It was cute.

And…sad as hell.

I went with the media narrative of the moment, but it wasn’t thetruthby any means. I managed to make it up on the stage without tripping over my own feet, I accepted the award—presented by Kora Oliver, who hugged me tight.

Fortification I didn’t know I needed until I approached the podium, award in hand, and…looked right at Shaw.

Front and center.

With Stella’s pretty ass beside him.

I thought I would puke.

Somehow though, I managed to keep the contents of my stomach where they were, and I managed to deliver the acceptance speech I’d already practiced, just in case. I said everything I needed to say, thanked everybody I needed to thank, through tears everyone thought were because I’d won one of the biggest awards of the night.

But…no, actually.

They were because Shaw and I were really,for realdone.

He was moving on, even though I wasn’t.

Which wasn’t wrong.

It just hurt like hell.

I got off the stage without any blunders—a professional through and through. There was press backstage to talk to, and I made it through that too. And then, finally, there was a private dressing room I could lock myself into and let out the tears I justcouldn’thold anymore.

By the time I pulled myself together enough to leave that room, tipsiness had fully set in and I’d cried myself into a headache. The very last thing I wanted, needed, or expected was Shaw outside the door waiting for me.

To congratulate me.

Of course he was.

Shaw had always been one of my biggest supporters—from my very first role, onOne Day Sober.The role that was the whole reason we met, and had to portray lovers, and eventuallybecamelovers.

As a friend, he practiced lines with me beyond what was really needed, to help soothe my anxiety about getting it all wrong. He arranged for flowers, to soothe the awkwardness of our first intimate scene, and was a perfect gentleman about it all,so carefulof my comfort. And then, when I made it clear that I was interested in much more than being his friend…he accommodatedthattoo.

But remained a friend throughout.

Was that why this shit hurtso bad?

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