Page 111 of Forget It

“Really?” Mum brightens, her eyes crinkling.

I nod. “I have a few friends who’ve been wanting to throw one so I guess I should.”

“How about two weeks on Saturday?”

I do some quick maths, calculating how close that is to my due date, which sits in my mental calendar in a big red circle.

“Yeah, that should work.”

“Wonderful,” Mum breathes before she steps forward and wraps her arms around me, leaning awkwardly around my bump. The familiar scent of her Dior perfume envelops me, and my eyes burn. I can’t remember the last time I got a hug from her.

She pulls back with a bright smile.

“Mum,” I swallow thickly. The next words I say will likely ruin everything, start an argument or cause the whole shower to disappear in front of my eyes, but I have to. “I don’t want Cleo to be there.”

Her smile falls. “What do you mean?”

I straighten my back and rest my hand on my belly. “I don’t want her to be there. That’s my condition. I won’t come otherwise.”

Mum sighs heavily, disappointment evident in her voice.

“Fine, Rosalie, if that’s what you want.” She throws her hands up. “But she’s your sister, I don’t kno?—”

“Mum,” I plead. “She’s not even apologized for what she did.”

“Rosie, I’m not getting in the middle.” The familiar saying from my childhood rings in my ears.

Thankfully, my car pulls up alongside me, “Look, I’m not going to fight with you about it,” I say, “But I mean it—I won’t go if Cleo’s there.”

Mum huffs as she helps me into the car. “Yes yes, I hear you. Email me your friends details so I can get the invites out to them too.”

“I will,” I say as I buckle in.

“I’ll see you then,” Mum says before she shuts the door.

I have the long drive home to ponder if that was a terrible decision or not.

41

JACKSON

The shoot got extendedby almost a month due to the change in personnel. It’s the only regret I have about the whole thing, even though my double Petyr pulled off every impressive stunt without a hit. I watched from the sidelines, but instead of jealousy, I just felt relief that he made it to the ground safely each time.

The film is officially wrapped, and I’m only a few hours away from my girl being in my arms. We’ve spoken everyday, but any time away is hard, especially these last few weeks. All I want to do now is end every day with her hair tickling my chin and Smudge kicking against my palm.

Wrapping any project is hard. I usually spend the immediate aftermath replaying every scene I’ve done over the last six months until I’m convinced I am the worst actor in the world. I usually want to stay close to the director, ready to jump back into re-shoots as soon as I can. But this time, I couldn’t get my costume off quick enough.

The drive isn’t long, and it’s barely any time at all before we pull up outside the house.

Eric rounds the car to help me drag my suitcase out ofthe trunk, and I offer him my hand. “Hey man, thanks for everything on this one. You’ve been a lifesaver, truly.”

“If you ever need—I mean, if you ever want me to work with you again…” Eric stammers.

“You’ll be my number one call, Eric,” I tell him as I shoulder the door open. “I owe you.”

The gravel crunches underneath my feet as I cross the driveway. The lights are on downstairs and I resist the urge to peer in like a creep.

“Where are you, pretty girl?” I call out as I cross the threshold.

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