Page 56 of Vain
“Will do. I’ll let you get back to Callie. We’re heading out to do some filming soon anyway.”
“How’s the movie coming along?”
“Not a fucking clue. It’s all shot out of sequence, so I’m lost most days. But when you speak to Matilda, she can picture it all in her head as clear as day.”
“I know fuck-all about movie production myself. How much longer will she be filming for?”
“She’s hoping to wrap up in another four to six weeks. It’s not like one of those big-budget action flicks. This is closer to an indie movie, budget-wise. Definitely no special effects or green screens. She says most of the action will happen post-production, whatever that means.”
I hear a banging in the background before Blake curses. “Someone’s at the door. Gotta go before they wake Callie up. Keep me posted on shit.”
“Will do.”
I hang up and slide my cell phone back into my pocket. I make sure each of the cameras is running and recording before locking up and heading back to my girl.
Chapter Twenty-Four
MATILDA
The cookies helped like I knew they would. After the scene with my mom left me feeling raw and more than a little embarrassed, I needed time away from Aiden to decompress. It’s funny, those moments when perceptions shift, and the dream fades into stark reality. I’m not naive. I know people look at me and write me off as privileged, and they’d be correct. But money is something I have. It doesn’t define me. It sure as shit doesn’t make me happy. I’m never going to complain about it because even to my own ears, it sounds ridiculous. Of course, most people would rather cry in their infinity pool that’s overlooked by their mansion than in the tiny shower of a trailer park where your neighbors can hear every time you get up to pee. But rich people don’t suddenly become invulnerable to depression and suicide. If anything, we either suffer in silence, feeling we have no right to be sad, or we use our wealth to drown our sorrows through whatever means possible.
I turn to look at Aiden and bite my lip, wondering if he realizes how much of a difference he’s made in my life in sucha short period of time. It sounds trite to call him my drug of choice, but he has that effect on me.
“Why are you looking at me like that?” He grins but keeps his eyes on the road.
“Just thinking.”
“Oh yeah? About anything good?” He wags his eyebrows, making me chuckle.
“I was thinking about you. I was thinking about how you’re making me happy, and I’m so grateful you came into my life,” I tell him truthfully.
He swallows before reaching over and sliding his large hand over my thigh. “It’s a two-way street, Tilly. I can promise you what you’re feeling is returned tenfold, and it has fuck-all to do with the house, the cars, or the money. I could leave all this behind, live in a tent with you, and still feel like I was living the dream.”
“I’ve never met a man who just lays shit out like that. Most play hard to get, playing down how they feel or admit to keeping their options open in case someone better comes along. And in my world, there is always someone younger, someone prettier. Everyone is a potential upgrade. It’s exhausting trying to filter through the guys who just want to date me so they can attach their star to mine and those who might want to stick around and dig a little deeper.”
“You ever have anyone like that? That wanted more, I mean?”
“Once. We starred in a movie together when I was seventeen and he was eighteen. We fell hard and fast, like teenagers do. And for a while, despite the odds, it was good. Real good.”
“So what happened?”
I sigh as the car stops at the light. “We struggled to make time for each other. And as our careers took off on different trajectories, a lot of resentment began to creep in on him. I wasluckier landing my roles, I guess, and he found it much harder to do something other than the same bad-boy roles offered to him. A lot of actors get typecast. It’s not a new phenomenon, but sometimes you just have to make the most out of it. I mean, earning tens of thousands to do a job that you love, even if the roles are all similar, is still better than being stuck working minimum wage in a fast-food joint. It was to me, when I found myself doing certain roles I wasn’t necessarily thrilled about. The thing is, I was grateful to be getting work. I know there are hundreds of talented actresses out there with more talent than me who would have given anything to be in my shoes. So I refused to squander the opportunities I was given. Jake didn’t feel the same.”
He’s quiet for a minute before squeezing my leg and putting his hand back on the wheel as we pick up speed.
“He started doing drugs, hanging with a different crowd. I’d wake up to a picture plastered all over the internet of him falling out of a club at stupid o’clock in the morning with various women on his arm. I couldn’t do it anymore. I realized somewhere along the way that I was giving far more than I was getting. Loving him was exhausting. There was no pleasure in it anymore. That’s when I knew it was over. You can only pour so much of your love into someone before they drink you dry.”
“I get that, more than most people, I think. I’m embarrassed now when I look back. All that shit that went down at the hospital made me want to slap myself because a part of me always knew she wasn’t the right woman for me. But I’d invested so much of myself into our relationship, it felt like a failure to walk away. The reality is, I was setting us both free.”
“I don’t think anyone truly sees anything objectively when they’re trapped in a situation that has become impossible to navigate. Jake wasn’t always the bad guy, and I wasn’t always innocent. Truth is, I should have left him way before it got to thepoint that it did. And that’s on me. But I didn’t know I was strong enough to do it until I had no other choice but to be strong.”
“Ain’t that the way shit always goes? What happened to this Jake dude? Did he get his shit together? Did you become the one who got away?” He frowns for a second, and I see the wheels turning. “Any chance he could be the one leaving you the?—”
I shake my head before he can finish. “Jake OD’ed and died three years ago.”
“Shit, I’m so sorry, Tilly.”
“I never wanted that for him. Like a speeding train heading right for him, I could see it coming. But he refused to get off the tracks. For all the glitz and glamour of Hollywood, there is a dark, decaying vortex beneath the surface that’s just waiting to suck you in. I want to say I’ve moved past it all, but I’m still very much in my angry era. One day, I’ll think of him, and I won’t get mad for all the broken promises and the life he so casually threw away. But right now, the anger is actually a comfort. It makes me refuse to succumb to the same beast. I looked over the edge of that same vortex after the attack. I wanted to let myself fall so many times, but my anger at Jake is what pulled me back. It’s messed-up, I know.”
