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“Did you seriously think sending me atexttelling me you’d give me adivorcewas gonna fly with me? God, you LTZ guys and your stupid goddamn notes.” Her voice catches, but she recovers in a flash. “Is that what you want? Be real with me.Please.”
I keep my voice calm. Collected. I can’t answer her directly, though. “It’s for the best. For you. The boys.”
“Wow. Okay.” Ronni kicks the wall with the toe of her boot. I can’t help but glance down at her to discover, despite her uncharacteristic display, she’s wrapped her arms around herself protectively.
I’m such a feckin’ arsehole. It kills me to lie to her. Divorce is the last thing in the world I want. Ronni’s myeverything. Life with her and our sons means…
“I’m not going to beg you. That’s not who Iam.” Ronni’s voice trembles. Pleads.
I’d never want her to lower herself that way. That she’d even consider it pierces my heart and makes me want to cocoon her in my arms. But, I can’t do that.
I lost that right when I sent the text on my way to the airport.
So, I nod. Keep my face frozen and emotionless. Watch her storm across the room, kick the empty pile of boxes and slam the door behind her.
When she’s gone, I break down. Wracking, silent sobs. I didn’t expect her to follow me here, but the loss of her presence is beyond devastating. How will I survive a world where I can’t breathe in her lemon-meringue-pie scent? Sip from her supple lips. Hold her tightly against my body after I’ve fucked her into oblivion. Cuddle with her and the boys and watch movies on a Sunday afternoon.
I won’t. Survive, that is. Not intact. I’m already a shell of a man.
Who will I be when this is all over?
The better question is, will it even matter?
This garden ismy absolute favorite place in the entire world. I’m lounging in the conservatory, a glass-and-stone structure with a 360-degree view of the grounds. Floor-to-ceiling panels unfold, so on a rare warm Irish day like today, I’m able to lounge on this incredibly plush sofa and work on rewrites of a screenplay I’m hoping to produce.
One day.
I’ve never lived in such a quiet, reflective location to just….be
Connor’s estate is perfect. In the years since he bought this place, his aunt Saoirse has done wonders. She’s renovated the entire mansion to be the perfect combination of modern amenities and traditional Irish cottage.
Her true contribution though, at least in my opinion, are these lush gardens. Her passion for horticulture and keen eye for detail have transformed acres of dense hazel and blackthorn greenery into magic. I’m surrounded by trees, woodland plants, ferns, shrubs, and flowers. Throughout the grounds are manicured lawns, stone planting areas and also whimsical flower beds that almost seem wild.
At this time of year, in the weeks before summer finally permeates the land, the fragrances are unreal. Gentle scents of honeysuckle, lilacs, hostas, daylilies, and crocosmia waft around me on the gentle breeze. Who needs candles when you have the real thing?
It’s heaven on earth. Our very own Garden of Eden.
My oceanfront home in Malibu used to be my sanctuary. I’d sit outside for hours in one of my pods. Soaking up sun. Awash with the sound of the ocean, so incredibly meditative and soothing. Lately, it’s not been as calming as it used to be.
Situated smack in the middle of a dozen celebrity homeowners, privacy didn’t used to be an issue. Things began to change when a young TikTok influencer bought the house next door. The number of raging parties and photo shoots have made living there just about unbearable.
It doesn’t help being besieged by a constant onslaught of paparazzi. Ever since word got out I was behind the demise of billionaire producer Don Kircher, it’s been a shit show. I’d spent years cautiously covering my tracks. Careful to keep my identity secret, fearing it would ruin my career. I didn’t want the credit. Or the notoriety. I just wanted him to pay for what he did to me and so many others.
It all changed when Connor slung me over his shoulder at that poker game in New York. Yeah, he saved my ass.
But, I was also exposed.
I’d let my guard down. A couple of months prior, we found out I was pregnant. I was desperate to speed up his downfall. Get on with my life with Connor. Unfortunately, a string of bad decisions and recklessness put me in real danger. Thank God for Kris Blakely, my best friend and producing partner. She and Connor stepped in to save me from myself. With their help, my plan came to fruition and Kircher was indicted for all his heinous sexual transgressions.
My role in his ruin went public and—to my surprise—I wasn’t blacklisted. Quite the opposite. I’ve become a coveted triple threat: actor, writer, and producer.
When Kircher was arrested after theLA Timesarticle, Connor and I happily stepped into the spotlight as husband and wife. My fans werenotso happy. The past ten years of fake-dating mostly gay actors bit me in the ass in the court of public opinion. I wasn’t quite cancelled—I’d exposed Kircher, after all. But boy oh boy were they pissed that I “dumped” Ty for Connor.
For a hot second, I was a bandwrecker. The whole reason LTZ went on hiatus.
Me, Connor, Ty, and Zoey did a series of interviews to counter the insanity. Ty’s blissful reunion with Zoey, the woman he wrote all of LTZ’s hits about, did the trick. Luckily, Less Than Zero’s fans were ecstatic at their reunion so I was let off the hook. Soon, the world moved on to the next scandal.
With Kircher finally in our rear view mirror, Connor and I decided to spend LTZ’s hiatus in Ireland so I could give birth in peace. Have some privacy. Allow space for our “scandalous” relationship to remain firmly as yesterday’s news.
