Page 95 of Take 2
“Yep.”
“For fuck’s sake.” The sound of keys tapping comes through the call.
“Do not book a flight.”
“Of course, I’m booking a damn flight. We need to talk.”
I drop my face into my hands. “I told Lisa I’ll be back by Monday. Just … I’ll try to see you next week.”Trybecause I don’t know if I can physically bring myself to do it, not because I’ll be too busy.
“Bella …”
A breath puffs out of me, then I sniffle. “You use your Wisconsin number, and now I’m Bella again?”
“Is that the problem? That I called you Mira when I told you—”
“No.” I can’t hear those three words from him again. “I mean, yes, that was part of it. But …” I wipe a tear from my eye. “I never stopped loving you. And falling for this new version of you is like accepting that my Ryan is gone. I …” I sniffle again. “I’m sorry. I know it’s probably because of me. God, that sounds egotistical …”
“No, it’s not egotistical to think you’re my reason for everything. It’s the truth.”
Perfect. Confirmation that Preston erased Ryanfor me.My throat constricts, and I try to clear it. “You’re amazing at what you do, it’s just hard for me to reconcile … I mean, you fell off the face of the earth and then reappeared as a different person, so …”
Silence strangles me. “I’m sorry, Bella. I don’t know how to bridge what we were to what we could be now. It has to be different, so I went about as different as I could.”
I roll onto my back and look at the ceiling through tears. “It was a different place, but the same situation as college.”
“What?”
A breath slides out of my lips. I didn’t mean to do this. “I had an amazing time, both with you and getting to be on the set, meeting Rafael, but…” God, this sounds selfish. “It was kind of like how we tacked on visiting CalArts when we went to the Rose Bowl. I always loved watching you play football, and I loved watching you make a movie even more, but sometimes I want it to be about me. And I really, really hate saying that, but we’re adults. We’ve already divorced, so what can be gained by tiptoeing around it? I’m not the center of attention type, but …”
“I … no. Of course. Things should be, and are, about you. I … fuck.”
“I’m not trying to blame you.” I wipe my eyes. “You moved to California for me. That’s huge. It’s not like you never put me first.”
“Except it kind of fell apart when you needed to be first for an extended period of time.”
“Ryan, please don’t act like it was all your fault.” My own guilt has never held a candle to how awful it is to have him feel bad about something.
“Bella, can you do one thing for me?”
“Maybe.” At one time, I’d have blindly said yes. There’s so much I have to protect myself from, though.
“Would you please watchMissed Opportunities?”
“Oh. Um, I guess so.” It seems a simple enough thing to promise, even though the things I know about it are that Lisa referred to it as “raw and emotional” before I knew who wrote it, and he said he wrote it as therapy in our roundtable. It's not like I can avoid it my whole life. I’ve always wondered what I’d find in that movie.
“Thanks. Please call me when you get back in town?”
“Yeah.” It can’t be dumber than anything else I’ve done recently.
“All right. Have … a good time back home.”
Nice try, but at this point, an earthquake taking out his reception would be the only non-cringe way to end this call. “Thanks,” I say. “We’ll talk soon.” I tap the end button before we can make this any worse.
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Productivityhasbeenofthe utmost importance to me for as long as I can remember. But yesterday’s list of accomplishments was just: send two emails and cry on the phone with my ex. That’s as much as I could handle.
Today, maybe I’ll go nuts and wash my hair or something. Rain hits the windows, so it doesn’t feel like there’s any point. Not that I’d be going anywhere. Which also leads to: what’s the point? At least the weather is thoughtful enough to be gloomy when I am. LA would keep being sunny and beautiful like,Why aren’t you smiling?
