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She stands, pursing her lips and smiling but only just. “I will deal with him. You deal with your own worries, okay??
??
Emerson leaves the room the same time I hear Logan shouting over the speaker. Quickly climbing out of bed, I hover toward the door and listen to the conversation as Logan is yelling at Emerson.
“I fucking told you to end this! You never fucking listen to me. You always want to do your own thing and defend him. I swear Emerson, you need to fucking choose once and for all because I’m done with him being in our life.”
“You’re angry, but this isn’t my fault. I can’t control people’s feelings,” she says, raising her voice in frustration.
“You know what? I asked Milana to deal with Wesley. I don’t want him around you anymore. But hey, I didn’t expect her to spread her legs and fuck him.”
“You’re being an asshole right now. I will talk to you when you calm down, you understand me? And you can kiss having another baby goodbye!” She ends the call, letting out a loud groan and stomping her feet with anger.
It’s all my fault.
If anything happens to Emerson and Logan, I can only blame myself. The same feeling I have with Mama. I shouldn’t have left home. If I didn’t, she wouldn’t be this way. She’d remember that Grandpapa died years ago. Everything would just continue on.
I drag myself back to the bed, thinking about what Logan said. He makes me sound like a whore. I contemplate calling him directly to explain myself but quickly change my mind.
Beside my bed is a nightstand with a fancy lamp. My cell, sitting on top, shows nothing from Wesley. I’m not sure if I should be relieved or worried.
I scroll through my contacts, in a clouded and frazzled state, and dial the number.
“It’s me.” I cry softly into the speaker. “Are you there? Say something.”
There’s a long pause. Each second that passes hurts more and more.
“I’m here. Milly, what is going on with you?”
Phoebe’s concern is comforting and exactly what I need. A piece of home, even if it’s just a phone call. I miss everything about her, and hearing her voice brings back so much of myself that feels incomplete since the moment we stopped talking.
“I don’t know, Phoebs. I just fell… like hard, and I’m scared. I’m losing everyone, but I can’t pull myself out of this alone. Then there’s Mama… she’s getting worse.”
“Breathe… one, two, three.” Phoebe breathes into the speaker like she’s giving birth, making me laugh through my tears. “When you’re ready… spill.”
I pour my entire heart out to her, everything from the moment I met Wesley to this evening. Phoebe listens quietly, though my stupid phone keeps buzzing from call waiting. I ignore it, wanting to hear her voice and nothing else.
“Jesus, Milly, it’s like a soap opera. What has Hollywood done to you?”
“Not Hollywood. Wesley.”
“You’re in love. This is scaring you because you’re in love with him. You’re in love with a movie star,” Phoebe screams, loud.
“What?”
“You’re in love with a movie star who is also your boss’s ex-fiancé. This is everything in life you’re against… movie stars and shitting where you eat.”
I sigh loudly, turning the lamp on as the night falls, and the darkness creeps in.
“I don’t think that expression applies to this situation, and it’s gross.”
“Milly, I’ve known you forever. This isn’t you. He isn’t what you’re about.”
She has known me for forever and states the truth. Wesley is not what I am about if I’m about anything.
But what if that is no longer me? The scared and timid Milana, who would run any time anything changed. Here I am now, the complete opposite.
“I miss home.”
