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She doesn’t make a sound, so I turn my eyes up to her. “No, Maggie, I was at the hospital when you had the flu. He was worried sick about you. I watched him bawl – I mean cry his eyes out because he thought you might not make it. There was one night when your fever spiked, and your breathing got really labored. It was so scary. They were about to put you on a ventilator.”
I hold her gaze for a moment. I didn’t know this.
“He never left your side. Not once. For two weeks. He barely ate. He was distraught.”
“Well, that could have been because of the baby,” I counter.
“Yes. The baby is important to him, but I don’t know what else to tell you other than I witnessed it with my own eyes. That man has feelings for you.”
I hold up the palette so she can dip her paintbrush into the dark yellow color I’ve just created. “This is for the other star.” I point to the wall, and she nods.
I exhale dramatically through my nose. “I know he started to feel things for me earlier this year, but it was just because we were monogamous while I was trying to get pregnant. He wasn’t traveling as much. He wasn’t with other women. I think he just formed an attachment. They weren’trealfeeling.”
“How can you have feeling that aren’t real feelings?” She climbs onto the stepladder so she can reach the other star.
“I don’t know, but Celeste, it’sDeclan. Come on. Declan Sterling, famous carefree bachelor. He’s not the settling down type. He’s like George Clooney – maybe he’ll settle down in like forty years, but I can’t imagine anytime sooner.”
“He’s been here with you for a year,” Celeste says softly.
I open my mouth to protest, but then I shut it again. She’s right. He has been. I would have thought he’d be itching for his freedom, but he seems perfectly happy being here. Although I can’t forget about when we took a break, and he literally had a different woman – or in some cases women – over to his place every single night.
“Well, he’s a good guy. I never said he wasn’t. He’s just not the settling down type. He’s not the long-term relationship type.”
She walks back over to get more paint and pauses. “You’ve known him for a while now, maybe that was true when you met, but is it possible he’s changed? Grown up?”
“Maybe, if he’s changed so much, wouldn’t he have told me?”
She shoots me a look.
“I’ll think about it,” I say. I study her work and then I say, “It’s looking good, but you’re awfully slow. Less talking more painting.”
She laughs as she climbs back up the ladder steps. “You’re such a taskmaster.”
I shrug. “This wall isn’t going to paint itself, and I’m not going to be pregnant forever.”
Chapter Fifty-Nine
