Page 92 of The Interview
A lump instantly forms in my throat as I process her words.
“You know what, as different as Sean and Cam’s personalities are, that’s what they both do—or did, in Sean’s case. They let me be me, and even if being me means I’m being a bit of a cunt, they’ll let me know that’s what I’m being. They let me know they love me regardless, and they’ll be there to pick up the pieces when I realise I’ve fucked up. How lucky am I to have found two men who have given me that?”
“Girl, not just two men who have given you that, but look at you the way Sean did, the way Cam does, and love you unconditionally. I’mnotgonna say you’re one lucky woman, because your husband and your babies died. WhatI amgoing to say is that you’re loved that way because that’s what you deserve.”
My tears spill over as I shake my head. “I don’t think I deserve either of them, but I’m so very grateful for them anyway.” I say the words through trembling lips. I’m tired and hungover. Today is not the day to be putting the control I have of my emotions to the test.
“I’ll say less because these tears mean I’ve got to fix your face again,” Chastity says, reopening her kit bag.
“I thought you said I didn’t need much work?”
“I lied. You’re one ugly, ‘ol, craggy-faced bitch, and I’ve no fucking clue what them fine men see in you,” she says, making me laugh while she dabs under my eyes.
Ten minutes later, I’m mic’d up, under the lights, and back sitting on the interrogation couch. The room’s very quiet since I have no audience right now. It’s just me, what’s left of my hangover, Daniel, and the crew.
“We good to go?” Daniel asks.
I give him a tight-lipped smile and shrug, because, no, I’m not. I know what we’re heading towards, and I’m in no way prepared.
It’s something I lived through and something I’ve livedwithfor twenty-five years, and the only reason I’m prepared to talk about things now is that for twenty-five years there has been so much speculation and so many rumours that I can now put right while making some money—possibly a lot of money for our foundation.
“To recap, you’re back with Sean, Jimmie has married Lennon, Ashley’s with Marley—actually,marriedto Marley, unbeknownst to you and the rest of the world—and you settle into life as the girlfriend of a rock star. Why not his wife?”
I steeple my fingers and rub them together while I formulate my answer.
“We went through a pretty traumatic and very public break-up, and in those four years that we were apart, we changed. We grew. There’s a huge difference to the way you think and feel at sixteen than the way you do at twenty. Same as there is between twenty and thirty. We needed time to get to know each other again. We needed to work out if we felt the same, or if we were just in love with the kids we used to be.”
“And that took you ten years?”
“No,” I say with a headshake and a smile, just as Daniel glances over my shoulder. He focuses back on me in an instant, but he looked away long enough to let me know someone else has entered the room.
“We knew straight away that we still loved each other, but did we love each other enough to let go of the past and move forward?”
I pause, feeling a little bit paranoid about who might be listening. I take a quick glance behind me to see Jimmie, Len, and Ash all sitting on the stools around the island, facing me.
“Where’s Marley?” I ask.
“Hanging,” Ash says with a smile. “How the fuck are you up there looking like that and functioning after yesterday?”
“Chastity’s magic and coconut water,” I tell her. “Do an Uber Eats and send out for some.”
“On it,” Jim says, pulling her phone out of her Chanel Maxi Hobo bag.
“Is that…? How’d you get that?” I ask or maybe demand to know. The bag’s from their autumn/winter collection and not yet for sale.
“Bitch, you’re not the only one with contacts,” she says as she leans in and kisses Len’s cheek.
I raise my brows. “Really? You got her one, and not me?”
“If byher, you mean mywife, then yes. They’d only let me have one, and imagine the shit I’d be in if I gave it to you. Besides, you’ve got your own contacts. Get your own bag,” Len tells me.
“I don’t want one now. They’re common,” I say and stick my tongue out before turning back to face Daniel, whose mouth is slightly open as he watches our interaction.
“I’ll have one!” Ash calls out. “I don’t mind being common. Been called worse things in my life.”
I watch as Daniel’s eyes dart between all of us and he shakes his head.
“You lot are…”
