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None whatsoever.
I admired him, once upon a time. Without that flimsy veil of my starstruck idolatry, all I can see is his selfish greed. All I can feel is the cold hardness of his heart. He doesn’t care about me. He only cares about himself.
To him, thisisa game.
If he can get me to put this ring on again, the movie’s as good as his. He’ll have power over me.
I nudge the velvet-covered box back toward him. “Sylvester, I want to be clear with you. It’s over between us. Our relationship—it’s over.” It surprises me to feel my throat nearly close. I gulp back a rush of emotion.
Maybe saying those words—even to a person you never really loved—is difficult no matter what the breakup was like.
I did live with him. I did respect him—once. I had him up on a pedestal, and even though he crashed down the minute I found out what he was up to with my script, this still hurts.
A lot.
Way more than I expected.
He pushes the ring back toward me, a little farther this time. “Please, Maddison, don’t say that. I really do miss you.”
“You miss having a fan at your disposal.”
“I missyou.”
“You never even knew me. Not really.”
“That’s not true,”
“It is,” I tell him. “I was never my whole self around you. And even if it’s hard for us to understand right now, I feel certain that this was destined to end. We’re not right for each other, Sylvester. We never were.”
He stares at the ring. When he raises his eyes up off the sparkling diamond and looks into mine, I see that he’s not done fighting.
“You are mistaken. Perhaps it’s being here, in this small town. This ratty diner. This—” he sneers, as he gestures around him, “this hellish, deadening, boring corner of nowhere.”
Behind him, I spot my grandfather.
He’s walking toward us, coffee pot in hand.
Unaware, Sylvester goes on. “This sort of dirty, small, claustrophobic setting will warp a young woman’s mind. You’rebetter than this, Maddison. Life with me will get you out of here. Let me sell the movie. It’s only going to get produced if my name is on it, and you know that. Once we’re married, what will it matter? It’s not like money will be an issue. What is mine will be yours. Including my fame. Don’t you want that?”
My grandfather, who hesitated a few feet away, now steps forward. “Care for a refill?” he asks, without the usual friendly twinkle in his eye.
He heard Sylvester’s insults.
Sylvester barely looks my grandfather’s way. “Excuse us,” he snaps. “We’re in the middle of something.”
“No,” my grandfather says, probably because of the pleading look I’m giving him. “I think you’re about through here, my friend. Maddison, you alright?”
“I’m okay, Grandpa,” I tell him.Better now that you’re here, I think, as I give him a wobbly smile.
He nods, picking up on my meaning. “What do you say, all through with your visit?”
I nod at him gratefully and slide out of the booth. “I am, Grandpa. Thanks.”
“Your gran has a whole plate of food cooked up for you in the back.”
“Sounds delicious.”
“I’ll get you a cup of coffee to go along with it.” He meets my eye. “Sure you’re okay?”
