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He will never love me the way boys on TV love girls on TV. But that is how it should be—the love on TV is fake. It's manufactured by camera movements and scores and screen kisses. I've been the pretty, empty love interest enough times to know it's all a crock of bullshit.
But Luke doesn't know better. He's romantic, with all these sweeping ideas about choosing love over comfort or duty. He's going to be disappointed when, three months into our relationship, I am still damaged goods. I am still fucked up. I am still a recovering bulimic, unable to go a day without thinking of restricting or binging or purging.
He'll try. He'll really try, but he'll never be able to shake this idea he has that love can save me. His love can save me. But it won't. I'll still be a fucked up mess, and he'll feel like a failure and hate himself. And then, when it gets too hard, he'll leave, and I'll be all alone, no one to help me, no one to save me, no one to care about me.
Ryan may not love me the way other men love other women, but he does love me, and he does care about me, and he does want me to be healthy.
But maybe I'm getting ahead of myself. We agreed, no expectations. Maybe I don't need to know if Luke could handle being my boyfriend. Maybe I don't need to know if I love Ryan enough to marry him. It's not as if Ryan is pushing me to set a date.
Maybe I don't need any idea of who I'll be with next week. I'm finally craving something besides the distraction of a binge and purge. Sure, the something is still bad news, but it's a step in the right direction. I haven't thought about my calorie count all day. I've been too busy thinking about Luke.
Besides, I know what will happen next week. I have all the Model Citizen business to take care of. Laurie warned me—I'll be busy. Chemistry reads, fittings, contracts, rehearsals. And then, a week from Monday we start shooting. Some three odd months of 12 hour days. It's not a particularly grueling schedule for TV, but it's a big change from sitting around this apartment in my pajamas. It's a big change even from Together. I was second billing. I only worked two or three days a week. Everything wasn't riding on my shoulders.
But all that work isn't going to save me from this. A day on set is always half waiting around. I'll have nothing to do but think. I'll have nothing to do but want Luke.
Get a grip, Alyssa, you barely know him.
But I want to know more of him. I want to know more about him. I want to be around him all the time. Can I really deny this feeling because Luke might be bad at relationships? It doesn't have to be a relationship. It can be a fling. A few weeks of fun.
Can't it?
I can spend time with Luke without falling in love with him. I can spend time with Luke without throwing away what I have with Ryan. I can keep seeing Luke without falling apart.
Can't I?
When I get out of the bath, my phone greets me with a series of text messages.
From Luke.
I had fun. I like you. I hope I'm not putting too much pressure on this.
And, despite my best intentions, I spend the next two hours texting Luke, not really paying attention to the TV. We don't talk about anything important, really, but it feels so good to talk to him about nothing.
It's fun, right? Just fun? I can keep doing this without letting it become more than fun. I can keep doing this without falling for Luke.
Can't I?
***
Ryan arrives much later than usual. We eat dinner together, the same fish and rice and vegetables we usually eat. He talks about work, some boring details about his meetings, some stern lecture about my behavior at dinner. He is sure he lost out on a client because of the way Luke and I acted. I nod and smile, doing my best not to rile Ryan. It won't do me any good to argue with him. I got my permission to take the role. And, really, after fucking Luke twice in the last 24 hours, I don't have a leg to stand on.
I try to concentrate on Ryan, but my thoughts keep drifting back to the movie theater and the bookstore. I should focus on how amazing it felt when Luke touched me, but, instead, I keep replaying his words in my head.
He has an ex-girlfriend. She means a lot to him, or meant a lot to him. It's a fucked up situation. He said ex, didn't he? He did say ex…
I nod along with Ryan, waiting for him to bring up Luke. Finally, Ryan circles back to the dinner. Another stern lecture about the value of following his lead. “Luke has a lot of nerve,” I say, and Ryan nods in delight. Keep going like that. It's what he wants to hear.
“What does he know about relationships?” I ask. Ryan has such a good memory. He might realize Luke never brought this up, but I can play it off. “It's not like his worked out.”
“I don't remember him bringing up Samantha,” Ryan says. Her name rolls off his tongue, like he thinks highly of her. Samantha. Is she the smart woman who always outshined Luke? “It's really a shame what happened to her.”
“What was that?” I ask, trying my best to act disinterested.
“You don't need to worry about that. I'll never let something like that happen to you.”
Huh?
“Are they still together?” I ask.
