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“So what happened?” She winced at his tone, but Cooper wasn’t quite there yet. Forgiveness was still way the hell off his radar.
“A few weeks ago, my apartment was vandalized. Things were stolen.” She held his gaze, and for the life of him, Cooper couldn’t look away. “Personal things. Private things.” She shuddered. “Things about you and me.”
He sat up, ramrod straight. “What are you saying?”
“They know, Cooper. About us. They know about the baby and what I did.” Her eyes welled, and she shook her head, unable to speak. She gained her composure and plunged forward. All the while, she watched him, beseeching him, begging him for something.
“They don’t care that I was sick. All they care about are the crazy things I’ve done. The drugs, the promiscuity. They don’t care that mental illness factored into every aspect of my life.”
He didn’t know what to say. Hell, even if he did, he wasn’t so sure he’d be able to get it out. Throat tight, he stared across the table at a woman, who, years ago, had meant the world to him. Until that night when it had all gone to shit. Until that night when she’d broken his heart into a million pieces. Shattered it so badly, he thought it would never be whole again.
But it was whole. It was strong and happy, and he had Morgan and…
Cooper sank back into his seat. Holy hell. He loved her.
“They’re running a story.”
Distracted he looked up. “What was that?”
“A tell-all.” A single tear slipped down her cheek. “I had to tell Nolan everything.” She laughed, an awful sound that, in spite of himself, tugged at a sliver of compassion. “He had no idea Holly Cronkwright was really Holly Adams, former ‘it’ girl on the Hollywood scene. Former junkie with a nose for disaster. Had no idea of my past, the crazy shit I did when I was off my meds. He had no idea about you.”
She paused and a sob escaped. “I’m so sorry, Cooper. About everything. But if it’s any consolation, when he found out he broke up with me. He pretty much said the same thing you did the next day when you came to see me in the hospital. Do you remember what that was?”
He did. As if it were yesterday. He’d walked into her room, saw her parents huddled by the bed—her wrists shackled because they were afraid she’d hurt herself—and all he could think about was…
You’re not human. I don’t want to ever see you again. We’re done.
Her howls of pain as he’d left her there were howls he heard every night for years. She’d tried to kill herself but had only managed to kill their unborn child. A child he hadn’t wanted. A child he’d accused her of manipulating him with. A child whose early end was an end he blamed himself for.
He saw the hurt on her face. The pain that still lived there.
“I don’t blame Nolan. I guess I am a monster and now the whole world will know.”
Cooper didn’t know what to say. His thoughts were jumbled. Scattered. He’d been angry for so long, he didn’t know how to feel anything else. He’d met Holly when he was traveling in St. Petersburg. They’d fallen into a passionate, volatile relationship that slowly deteriorated along with her mental health. The fact they’d stayed in Europe for the duration of their time together was the only reason they’d been able to keep things on the down low.
“But that’s not all. Alice, remember her?”
Alice? He had no clue who she was. He shook his head slowly, dread making him anxious as hell.
“She was my publicist back when I had a career and needed one. She called me two days ago because she was getting phone calls, media outlets looking for a comment on rumors circulating.”
“A comment about what?” he asked harshly.
“Cooper, the things that were stolen from my apartment were journals, and in them, I talked a lot about us. About you. They know you’re Lee Holloway. They know your first book was based on what happened between us and…” Her face crumpled.
“And?” He slid from the booth and was on his feet, pushing back even as he waited for her answer.
“They wanted to know if your next book would be about your new girlfriend.”
Face grim, Cooper waited for the hammer to fall, and for what it was worth, Holly looked truly upset.
“Apparently, her life has Lee Holloway written all over it.”
“How much time do I have?” he asked harshly, feeling that cold dread work its way into his gut until he felt sick.
She slowly shook her head. “Not much.”
30
