Page 100 of The Potter

I still can’t wrap my head around all the hurtful things he said.

He was a ginormous asshole.

But he was in pain, I knew that. I tried being patient, taking his nasty remarks until I couldn’t. I didn’t deserve for him to shit all over me just because he was hurting. I know you tend to take out your anger on the people who you feel like won’t leave you, but Vance was purposely being cruel.

He wanted me to leave.

So, I gave him what he requested.

Solitude.

Maybe this was how it was all supposed to work out? Maybe God didn’t put us together so we could heal one another fully. Maybe we were only supposed to healpartsof each other.

Vance gave me refined scars and a clean slate to pursue my acting career like I had always dreamed.

I gave Vance a different memory of the operating room, one where he could accept Logan’s death and move past the trauma.

Now, the rest is up to us.

I couldn’t heal Vance’s guilt from the death of his friend, and he couldn’t give me the love I thought I wanted more than my career. He showed me that I needed to make myself happy first before I could make anyone else happy.

Which is what Remington and I are doing.

We’re living off cheap takeout, temporary jobs, and skeezy motel rooms.

The experience isn’t quite what we thought it would be, but at least I’m not doing it alone.

“Dick-gina is way worse than man-gina,” I inform Remington, handing over a bite of the Fruit Roll-Up we’re currently sharing.

“What did he do today? Shit in the director’s chair again?”

Rem’s not being sarcastic. Maddox really did shit in the poor man’s chair. Apparently, he thought he was doing a shitty job directing, and therefore, he showed him just what he thought of his directorial debut.

I meant it when I said he was a dick-gina.

“No shit this time, but he told my costar that if she didn’t rid herself of ten pounds before tomorrow, she was fired.”

Remington’s legs stop swinging in rhythm with mine. “Has he ever said that kind of shit to you?”

My little hero is such a psycho when he wants to be.

First, he threatened to kill Vance in his sleep, which I was able to deflect by packing my bags and telling him I was leaving for California. I told him Kristen found me an audition, and I had spent enough time waiting to achieve my dreams. When I looked up from throwing clothes in the bag, Rem was gone.

But not for long.

A few minutes later, with two bags slung over his shoulder, Rem offered me a shrug and said California sounded cool. I tried telling him to stay. I still didn’t know his family situation or why he lived at Clyde’s and worked construction, but he assured me that he had nothing better to do, and I wasn’t his mom.

So, that was that.

We bought two bus tickets to Cali, where I ended up getting the part I auditioned for with Maddox—a doctor, of all characters.

“Calm your nerves,” I tell Remington, as he shoots me a glare and taps out a cigarette. “Maddox hasn’t said anything nasty to me.”

Yet.

It’s only a matter of time. Maddox’s favorite pastime is to harass his crew and make them cry. Unlike Vance, he doesn’t give a shit if he’s hit with a lawsuit.

Vance.

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