Page 52 of The Star in Room 7

“Maybe not, but your next film might. Or the one after that.”

He dips his chin, down casting his eyes. “Maybe. That’s if there are any more films.”

My heart aches. “I hope there will be, baby. You’ve got too much talent to let it go to waste.”

“You’re just saying that because you want to get in my pants,” he mumbles.

“Look at me, sweet boy.”

He lifts his gaze, but not his chin.

“I’ve seen your movie. You’re a good actor. And that was some incredible accent work you did. It’s only a matter of time before you get a bigger role in something more mainstream. You can be a star, Zach, if that’s what you want.”

His eyes shimmer with tears, which gather in his lashes as he blinks. “I don’t want to be afraid, Daddy.”

“I know, baby.”

“If that means no more acting…” He drags in a shuddering breath.

“It doesn’t,” I promise.

“She’s still out there.” His voice wobbles, and his breathing becomes jagged. “Restraining order or not, she knows where I live. I can’t stay at Halo House until her case goes to court.”

“Who says?”

He shrugs. “It could be months.”

“It might be, but Phoenix isn’t going to throw you out while you still need the room.”

“Unless I work, I won’t be able to afford my rent for much longer. If I spend months not doing auditions, no one’s going to want to hire me, anyway.” He rubs his arm. “The longer I hide, the less likely it is I’ll have anything to go back to.”

“It won’t come to that. Why don’t you let the lease on your apartment go? Then you’ll have one less thing to worry about. I can go with you and help you empty it. Or I can get it done for you, if you prefer. When you’re ready, I can help you find a new apartment.”

“Don’t you mean if?” he mutters.

“When.”

His shoulders shudder, and he sobs. “Thank you for believing in me, Daddy.”

I pull him into my arms, holding and stroking him while he cries. His reaction proves to me that I made the right call to organize a therapist for him. I thought he was doing better. He is doing better, but he’s still fragile, still scared.

“Why don’t we watch the end of the silly movie together, and then go to bed and snuggle?” I suggest, once his tears have lessened.

He nods and curls up on the sofa with his head on my lap again. I stroke his hair and shoulder during the closing minutes of the film, managing to bite my tongue so I don’t interrupt any more of the climax and resolution.

“What would be your dream movie to act in?” I ask as the credits roll.

Zach shrugs.

“You must have thought about it.”

“Something with a lot of heart.”

“A drama?”

“Not necessarily. Any film genre can have heart. A film that makes the audience feel something. That makes them laugh, cry, or gasp. Or, better yet, all three.”

“I’d love to watch you in a movie like that one day.”