Page 74 of What We Had

I rolled my eyes. “Hey, Simon. Eventful.”

I felt my phone vibrate for the zillionth time. Simon said, “Great, great. Open that email I just sent.”

I put him on speaker and opened the email; bricks of text that I didn’t bother reading. Instead, I scrolled to the bottom and opened the attachment. The same studio currently in the process of shit-canning Winnie had just offered me something.

“That’s aneight-figure deal, Con baby. Eight fuckin’ figures. Look at that number. They need someone to play this soldier superhero, and who better than Connor Clarke?”

“Fuck me,” Bennett said, then immediately blushed when he realized I had my phone on speaker.

Simon didn’t seem to notice the change in voice. “I know, right? Plenty of details to go over. You’ll need to fly back here for a wet signature. I can arrange a private jet ASAP.” Back in good graces, I apparently would have every luxury at my disposal. “Here’s the long and short of it, though. I know you’re in great shape, but they need you inbettershape. Filming starts in three months. All the other actors playing the other heroes are scheduled to be in Australia for three months of rigorous training. It’s all part of this franchise deal. You’ll be filmed while working out. Y’know, really amp up that camaraderie with the other actors. Fans love that shit, like you’reactualsoldiers.”

My stomach constricted with every word he spoke. Dread settled in the tightening space between. “You’ll need to leave by next week,” Simon continued. “Three months of training, then about six months of shooting. You’ll be tied up for a year, but,heh, luckily you don’t have anything on your schedule. All right, so I’ll have the team charter you a jet. Boston, right? How quickly can you get to the airport?”

The look on Bennett’s face gave me all the information I needed. “Simon, just a sec,” I said and hit Mute. “I’m not—”

“You should do it, Connor,” Bennett said. “This is what you’ve wanted. You’re basically exonerated. Back in the game. That’s insane money for only a year’s worth of work. Connor, you can’t turn this down.”

“I’m not leaving you.”

“I’ll be fine. It’s only a year.” He said the words to placate, but I saw the fear, the hurt behind his eyes. “And hey, maybe I could come visit you in Australia. I’ve always wanted to go there.”

I couldn’t bring myself to agree. I didn’t give a damn about the money. The past two weeks with this man had showed me I didn’t need to be on-screen to feel alive. But I would be lying if I said the offer wasn’t enticing. For two years, my dream was to return to the limelight and play the roles I was born to play. Audition after audition, repeating the same failure to try to regain some semblance of my previous life. And here it sat before me like a prize waiting for capture. A cool eight figures that would undoubtedly tie me to additional films. A year away from Bennett was the only drawback.

The only drawback. As if that were a simple string attached. As if a year away from him didn’t matter. As if the past two weeks didn’t show me what a year with him could be.

It was a simple decision.

“You’re sure?” I asked.

Bennett swallowed. “Yeah, of course.” His words were so hollow. Did he know how transparent he sounded? I could kiss him for how he wore his emotions so openly around me.

I took myself off mute. “Simon?”

“Baby, baby,babyyy,” he sang to me. “Hit me. What time are we flying out?”

“Tell the studio they can go fuck themselves.Youcan go fuck yourself. I’m done with Hollywood.”

I hung up. Dropped my phone in my lap.

Before Bennett could speak, I threw myself at him. Kissed him until my lips hurt. Held on to his body like I needed it to stay afloat. I pushed out all of my thoughts except for the simplest one:I love you, Bennett Dubois.

We came up for air when my phone started ringing again. I was about to swipe ignore when I saw the name on the screen.

WINNIE BRIDGEWATER.

“You gonna answer?” Bennett asked in a breathy voice. He was so hard under the sheets I couldn’t think straight.

Fuck it. I answered. “Hey,Karen. To what do I owe the dishonor of your call? It’s been, what, two years since you stabbed me in the back? Hmm, maybe I should call you Judas? Or hell, even Brutus?”

She sounded delicate when she spoke. “I suppose I deserved that.”

“Oh, sweetie, you deserve so, so much worse. What do you think this will do to all the credible accusations? To the women who have beentrulyhurt? Do you know that’s what I think about now, what your lies have done toactualabuse survivors? I couldn’t give two shits about my career anymore.”

“Connor, I’m not calling to talk about that. I’m calling to apologize. I think there’s been a misunderstanding here. If we could sit down and sort this out, I think we can both come away from this situation with our heads held high.”

“There’s not much to talk about,” I told her. “I thought you were my friend, Winnie. I told you things about me nobody else really knew. And you used that against me to get ahead.”

“I’m not confirming or denying that happened, Connor,” she said.

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