Page 56 of Steamy on Set

“You’re my best friend. If there is anyone I’ll talk to about things, it’s you. Just know you support me in other ways. You have been showing up to every show since I was in tutus and clumsy. No one cares about my career the way you do. Not even my dad.”

I take her words in, and let them wipe away some of my fears. Before I get a chance to say anything, we are back on the topic of Errol. It’s not until we are home cuddled under a blanket with ice cream that she finally lets it go. But thanks to her, it’s all I can focus on while we watch movies.

Chapter 20

AsIexpected,Miraand I don’t talk again. Instead of an apology, I get a new hole in my chest, as yet another relationship ends with a flawed perception. Just like with Christian, I have lost another friend. I try to fill their empty places with as many people as I can, in an attempt not to miss them.

Every day for the next month after filming, I go to the same bar to let off some steam with the usual trio of Errol, Michael and Priyanka. Sitting long past midnight, we share drinks and stories, digging into each other until we unearth the gems that showcase our best selves.

Here we are again, another night of being in each other’s company. I lean forward on the bar, resting my hands aroundmy drink. Errol does the same, placing his chin on his free hand as he looks at me from the side.

“Tell me something,” he says, before taking a sip of his beer. I wait for him to swallow, watching his Adam’s apple bob. “Who was that guy the night of the party?”

Having firmly avoided this topic up until now, I knew at some point he was going to ask about Christian. I sigh out any hesitations while trying to settle into a place where I’m comfortable talking about him.

“He is my ex.” I start with the basics and let him lead the rest of the conversation with his questions.

“Bad ending?” Turning on the stool, he looks me right in the eyes.

I nod as I take a sip, drinking down the bubbling feelings that talking about Christian brings up.

“He cheated on me.” Saying it out loud, I lift some of the weight off my shoulders, laying the burden that is my pain out there for Errol to see.

“I’m sorry.” He looks like he means it. His lips are curved down, eyebrows furrowing into the middle of his forehead.

“Thanks.” I exhale. “Because of him, I don’t know if I can trust the way I did before. He was my best friend before we dated, and he was able to do this to me. What, honestly, is going to stop anyone else from doing it, too?” I look down, afraid to see the reaction on his face, waiting for the frustration and anger to dissipate, only leaving sadness.

His hand slides up and down my back in long strokes.

“What an asshole. I get how you can feel that way, but I really hope it doesn’t stop you from trying in the future. You deserve a good love story.”

I agree with him, even though part of me is unsure if I’ll ever have one.

“Love is complicated to say the least. It requires us to open ourselves up to someone and give them free access to hit us in every raw, usually hidden, place that people don’t have access to. A deep trust and desire is needed to do that.” I wave my cup at him as I speak.

Deep in my thoughts, my mouth runs free. “Then, if they do hit us there, it leaves scars that shift our willingness to open up again. So no matter what I deserve, I might not be willing to do what it takes to have it.” With all my emotions threatening to hold me down, I lean on my hand, needing something to keep me upright.

“It’s always worth it to try again, just based on what you can gain. Otherwise, you’re just subscribing to a life where you let fear be the deterrent for the possible love of your life. I would hate for you to miss out on that.”

Having thought I found the love of my life, the prospect of doing this all over again to be wrong one more time feels too daunting to take on now. Even if I know at some point I’ll want to.

“Have you ever had your heart broken?” I ask, finally looking up into his eyes.

They cloud over to the point where even though he is looking in my direction, he doesn’t see me. His hand stops moving up and down my back, landing right above my ass. I expect him to take it back, but he leaves it there, like a strong force holding me up.

“Yes.”

I wait for him to elaborate, to show me all the ways in which he is broken, too. He does.

“It was the only serious relationship I’ve had as an adult. We were together for ten years before he left me.” Shaking his head like he’s trying to clear his thoughts, he focuses back on me. Lines crease around his eyes as his frown deepens further.

“What happened?”

“He was an actor. We met in film school, and started dating pretty much instantly. We were together for three years when I proposed. He turned me down.” He smiles at this despite the clear rejected look in his eyes. “He said he wanted to establish himself before he became someone’s husband. I understood, I guess, I mean I got it, but it sucked. We stayed together and I waited for his big break to come.”

I push my empty glass away as the bartender comes over to replace our drinks. Errol stops talking, waiting for the man to walk away, before he begins again.

“It didn’t, or at least it hasn’t. Mine did. I expected him to be happy for me. To celebrate all my hard work paying off. It was like he was incapable of doing that. He did the opposite. He made me feel bad for doing well. I constantly felt like I had to justify why I was good enough.”

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