Page 4 of Absolute Certainty
When they were no longer working at the Hyacinth Theatre.These thoughts shouldn’t have been plaguing her like a dark cloud. It was only early June. They still had nine months. But the conversation with Jay was revolving around a wheel in her mind.
Things end.
Nothing is forever.
No promises.
She wanted to laugh. Why was she even shocked when her relationship ended just last month, because she was dating the world’s biggest prick, pretending to be the most doting man in the public eye? Sahar’s ex-boyfriend, Martin, was a rising, albeit mediocre star who people seemed to fawn over solely because of how attractive he was. He had a decent voice, sure, but it was nothing compared to their principal star, Ethan’s. Or even her scene partner, Sam Butler, who played Bingley.
Oh, to be a nepo baby. Martin’s parents were both actors. His dad was a piece of shit and a terror to work with, according to some colleagues. His mom was somewhat more enjoyable to be around.
Sighing, she turned over in her chair to face the mirror.
Thoughts of how Martin made her feel torpedoed through her previous ponderings.
Worthless. Too much. Less than. Selfish. Exhausting.
Sahar had been a hopeless romantic since she could remember. She’d believed that anything and everything could be lovely. She didn’t have a big family—a few cousins here and there. Butthe love she had for her immediate family was what had made her the person she was.
Her father, Andrew, adored his wife and his two children above all else. The arguments she witnessed weren’t crude or unkind. They wouldn’t end with doors slamming or name-calling. There were compromises in her home, easy laughter, and quality time spent together as a family.
There had been a lot of tears when she sat her parents down to tell them she wanted to move to New York. It had been and still was the hardest thing she’d ever done, but their strength had carried her through. Their belief in her talent and their unyielding pride kept her grounded.
She loved love. She always looked for the kind of love her parents shared. She believed in its existence as if it were something tangible you could touch and see.
Yet, time and again, when it was in her grasp, it’d wither and die. Sahar always chose the wrong people, and they’d never choose her back. Not fully, anyway. Her first real boyfriend in secondary school cheated on her. And then another dated her only to make his ex-girlfriend jealous. When she was twenty-two, she fell hard and fast for a fellow actor, and the greatest heartbreak came when he told her she was only palatable in small doses.
That nearly ruined Sahar, shattering her in a way that she couldn’t fathom overcoming. Then, a year later, she met a lovely chap named Dave, who’d been impossibly sweet, but he moved to California, and they never quite carried on the relationship after. He was married now, with two kids and another on the way, from what she could see on social media. She met Paul after Dave, and at twenty-five, she thought she’d been more mature—a better version of herself.
She was someone whothoughtshe could read people. She was great at picking lifelong friends, after all.
But when it came to love…
Sahar had learned the hard way that no one could ever truly read a narcissist until it was too late. And Paul was a textbook narcissist, making her promise to herself that she’d see the signs better next time.
Unfortunately, she didnotsee the signs.
Sahar met Ryan when she first moved to New York six years ago, and while everything was great in the beginning, he turned out to be worse than Paul. Sometimes, when it was too quiet in her mind, she could still hear the last words he spoke to her: “You’re the most exhausting fucking person I’ve ever met.” He’d said that simply because she wanted to talk things through—because she wasn’t willing to let an argument go without a resolution. Or, maybe, that was how she imagined it.
Maybe she was wrong in all this. Maybe they were right, and she was the problem.
By the time she met Martin, she was delusional to think that maybe, just maybe, he was actually the one because despite how shitty he was, he did seem to be genuinely into her. All that changed when she realized that he wouldn’t celebrate her wins alongside his. He wanted her to hype him up while he slowly sucked the life out of her.
Ugh, she’d been so stupid.
She reached forward and grabbed the specific foundation designated for covering up tattoos from her vanity, starting with the hydrangea on the back of her shoulder first. She didn’t have to cover all of her tattoos for the show, but some of the bigger ones needed to temporarily go. The hydrangea was one, and the crow on her forearm was another.
What if I never find love? What if I’m just the kind of person who’s meant to be the friend?
Sahar doubted many things when times got tough, but shenever doubted the way her friends loved her—the way she adored them and the lengths she’d go toforthem.Yeah, but maybe sometimes you exhaust them, too,her brain belted out. Fuck, did she?
She hadn’t gone to therapy in years, but maybe it was time to revisit that. It’d been such a success for Willa in the past year that maybe Sahar should go back—find a release from the same old ghosts that continued to haunt her.
Speaking of the gorgeous unicorn. Willa had just walked into their shared dressing room.
“I’m never getting over your hair like this. It matches you so much!” she complimented.
Sahar flashed her a toothy grin. “You’re too good to me.”
