Page 33 of Ripped

Wait a fucking minute. He can’t do that. It’s my script. I wrote most of it. I’m the creative brains behind the whole thing. I smash my finger on the call button. Wyatt picks up on the second ring.

“Thought that would get your attention,” he says by way of greeting.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” I escape to a corner of the suite so Rick and Jackson won’t hear me.

“Connor.” Wyatt sounds like he’s speaking to a toddler throwing a temper tantrum.

“That script is mine. There’s no fucking way I’m letting you steal it from me.”

“What? I’m not stealing anything. The script is ours. We’re partners. I want us to do the interview together.”

I laugh, hard and bitter. I was on the fence about whether I could keep working with Wyatt, but hearing him act like nothing happened, I know there is absolutely no way.

“I’m not doing the interview with you and I’m not letting you do it alone. First, you steal my boyfriend, now you’re trying to steal my script. Who knows what else you’ll steal next.”

“Jesus Christ, Connor, I’m not stealing anything.”

“Then why were you fucking my boyfriend behind my back?” I’m doing a bad job of not shouting. The suite is silent behind me. I stuff myself deeper into the corner.

“It’s not what you think.”

I scoff, disgusted. “That’s a tired line.”

“It’s true.” Wyatt sighs heavily into the phone. “We love each other.”

I stare at the white wall in front of me, feeling like I’ve taken an icy cold knife deep into the softest part of my gut. I can’t move. I can’t breathe. I’m paralyzed, my brain caught in a do-not-compute over what Wyatt’s saying.

What does he mean they love each other? How? Since when?

It comes to me piece by piece. Me coming home to find them hanging out together, watching movies on the couch, laughing in the kitchen, reading quietly next to each other. They were always so understanding when I needed to work odd hours or got called in unexpectedly. They never complained.

Wyatt turning away when I went to kiss Miles. Miles keeping his hands to himself when Wyatt was around. I thought Wyatt was just giving us some privacy. I thought Miles didn’t want to make him uncomfortable.

All that time, they were in love with each other and trying to hide it from me. I’m the dupe, the delusional one. I was living in my own little make-believe world. It’s so obvious now that I can’t believe I didn’t see it before.

“Connor?”

I start like Wyatt smacked me in the face.

“Connor, say something.”

There’s nothing to say. They have each other now, they don’t need anything else from me.

“No, it’s over. Tell the granting committee we’re pulling our application.” I hang up and collapse with my shoulder against the wall, trying to keep down the breakfast Donnie made for me.

“What’s going on?” Rick comes up behind me.

I straighten, swallowing down bile. “Nothing, sorry. I’m fine.”

“Clearly, you’re not fine. What the hell was that?” Rick gestures to my phone.

“Wyatt.”

Rick stares at me blankly.

“My best friend.” I cringe at the words. “Ex-friend. Ex-creative partner.”

Rick seems to pick up on the “ex” part and some of the annoyance drops from his tone. “Is this going to be a problem?”

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