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“Can you explain the kiss?” I hiss.
His tone goes defensive. “Yes, as a matter of fact, I can. It had nothing to do with her.”
“This should be good.”
“Mila, it meant nothing.”
“How original.”
It takes every bit of strength I have not to open the door just to slap him. But with one look, I’d be manipulated into letting him in, and he would try to smooth things over, and I’m not having it.
“Can you please open the fucking door, so you can see my face and know I’m telling the truth?”
“That’s not going to make a difference. You conditioned me well.”
“Seriously?” he whispers, “that’s not what I did.”
“No? All those tests you put me through when we started out, all of the prep work you put into making me your perfect little Hollywood wife. You never planned any of that, man with the plan?”
“You’re really going to make me do this out here?”
“You’re not getting into this house, Lucas.”
He releases a heavy sigh.
“Fine. That kiss was about blood, the blood Nikki licked off her cheek. Wes asked me to do it specifically and only for that scene. He thought it would be more perverse if Anya were made to taste her brother’s blood off Nikki’s tongue. I agreed with him.”
Stunned at the explanation, I bristle where I stand.
“That’s actually a pretty damned good reason. And it would have changed everything if you’d have given it to me when I begged you for it. It might not have ended our marriage.”
More pause. “Stop it. You took everything personally. Everything. You didn’t trust me or the process. I understand you’re mad, but we aren’t over,” he says with an uplift in his tone that makes my stomach roll. “It’s one scene. I was going to tell you the minute I got here. I was coming clean about everything. Mila, I’m sorry—”
“You think that this is just about the kiss? You couldn’t be more wrong, and the fact that you are still trying to hide behind your character is disgusting. You broke EVERY rule, you left me nothing to believe in. Don’t you dare tell me that was acting!”
“That’s what I was doing!”
“That wasn’t acting, Lucas! You went too far, you’re still there. You don’t get to hide behind your job anymore. Every word coming out of your mouth is a lie, and I’m not listening to another. You need to leave. Right now!”
“You don’t mean that.”
“Yes, I do. And you know I do.”
“Dame—”
“Go to your wrap party, Hollywood.”
Irritation coats his voice. “I’m not going to a fucking party. I came to see my wife!”
“Fine, go see Amanda,” I snap.
Silence.
“Nothing to say? Lucas? Nikki? Blake?”
“You don’t understand, that…that just happened.”
“I don’t have to understand, I don’t want to understand. Save your explanations. I left you, I don’t want to be your wife. Not now. Maybe not ever again.”
