Page 115 of Lucky 22

I lift my teacup, but words escape me.

“I’m emailing all the information to you now—everything Ihave regarding the audition—so you know what you’re looking at. We’ll talksoon, Ella. Bye!”

I hang up and feel overwhelmed. I need to talk to Christian,but that won’t happen until tonight. In the meantime, I look at my flightoptions but don’t book anything. I can always text Tracy later. My mind wandersto what a role like this could mean. I stop myself before my imagination goesany further.

I haven’t even showered yet, and I feel like I’ve run amarathon.

But I can’t wait to reach the finish line.

ChapterTwenty

I sit on the edge of the hotel bed, holding my phonelike it weighs twenty pounds instead of a few ounces. Funny how something sosmall can hold something as huge as a potentially life-changing decision.

And committing to this role would most definitely change mylife.

Tracy’s email came several hours ago, and I’ve read it whatfeels like a hundred times. Major motion picture. Lead role consideration.Audition on Friday. Months on location if I book it. Months away fromPhoenix. From Christian.

From us.

The room is quiet except for the hushed hum of the airconditioning unit. The space feels too still. My mind feels too loud.

I should be excited. This is the kind of opportunity peoplespend their whole lives hoping for. The type of thing I used to daydream aboutwhile sitting on studio floors, waiting for my name to be called. The moment Iswore I’d never apologize for wanting.

But now, I’m staring at the email, terrified of wanting it.

Because Christian is here. Because he’s still healing.Because he uprooted his entire life—his team, his routine, his identity—andhe’s still figuring out what all of that means. He’s still struggling to figureout what his career looks like at this stage. And after everything he’s beenthrough…what kind of wife disappears for months?

I haven’t booked my flight or texted Tracy back yet.

Christian and I always like to talk about careeropportunities before we accept them.

If there’s time. But sometimes, a decision has to be madeimmediately without us sitting down to discuss it.

Which is why I’m currently in Phoenix instead of Toronto.

But I often have the luxury of time to sit and have aconversation with him about auditions and potential roles. I love getting hisinput and having us make the decision together. But now, as I anxiously watchthe time, I can’t quite wrap my brain around what I’m going to say to him.

Or to Tracy.

I’m so torn. It’s like I can practically feel myself beingtorn in two. Do I turn toward the career I’ve dreamed of and worked toward myentire life? Or do I walk away and embrace being here, where I know I’m needed?

I may not have asked Christian the questions about how he’sfeeling physically, but I don’t need to. I can see it in the way he moves. Iknow his body as well as mine. And maybe if I hadn’t been distracted by mycareer, I could have been there to advocate for his health when he wasn’t doingit for himself.

It would be easy to pick up the phone right now and bounceideas off my mom or even Jen, but this feels like something I need to figureout for myself before Christian gets back.

I wish having two successful yet challenging careers in onemarriage were easy.

I may be his rock in some ways, but he’s my rock inothers. I’ve always wanted that balance—the kind of partnership my parentshave, built on quiet strength and mutual care. The easy give and take. Thesteady rhythm of a marriage that knows how to bend without breaking. And Iwon’t let anything stand in the way of that. This isn’t a role I can walk awayfrom when the cameras stop rolling. This is my life, and it’s worth fightingfor.

All I know right now—what my heart is telling me loud andclear—is that if I had to choose between my career and my husband? There’s nocontest.

My husband. Always.

Forever.

I’ve had plenty of experiences with different roles. I’vesung and danced and acted. And while they were all exciting, none of themcompares to how I feel when I’m with Christian.

That’s the role.