Hollywood Ever After (Red Carpet 1)

The bed shifted as he sat, one hand tilting up my chin. “I don’t know if what happened changes things. You’ve been through so much. Too much, really.” His words were faint. He rubbed a hand over his face before he continued. “What I’m trying to say is I’ll give you whatever you need. You have a home now, a place for you and the children to be…to heal. I’ll give you space, if that’s what you want.” He looked at me, touching my cheek lightly. “Whatever you need.”

I stared at him, shaking my head. “If your feelings have changed—”

He interrupted. “Nothing that happened could change the way I feel. But now I know that you’re more important to me than I can put into words.” His eyes closed briefly. “If you need space, to grieve or heal or…move on, you’ll have it. Whatever you need.”

“What I need is you. I need you.” I put my hand to his cheek, desperate to reassure him. “To be with you. Not separated from you.”

He pulled me to him and wrapped his arms around me. “That’s a bloody relief. I was lying. I don’t think I could give you space. I’m selfish, remember?”

I shook my head, staring into his eyes. “Selfish or not, I love you.”

He swallowed and his cheeks grew pink. “Do you, now?” His voice was rough.

“I do. I love you.”

His eyes were warm as he regarded me. His lips were a feather-light kiss on my cheeks, my ears, my chin, my forehead, my nose, and, ever so lightly, my lips. “And I love you.”

***

There was no further investigation into Daniel’s death. Mrs. Witt’s testimony removed any possibility of murder or manslaughter, even self-defense. Though Josh had denied any concerns over the matter, I knew he was relieved, though he still worried over the children’s reaction.

“I’m connected to the death of their father. I was there. I didn’t pull the trigger, but they will wonder if I could have stopped him from acting as he did.” His face was anguished as he spoke. I hurt with him.

I’d tried to reassure him. “They love you.”

But the press was a problem. With outrageous versions and some not-so-outrageous accounts quickly gracing the front pages of every tabloid magazine, headlining entertainment shows and radio sound-bites, it was hard to keep the details vague.

Will was sad, but accepted that Daniel had died in an accident, the same accident that had “banged up Mommy”. So much of his life had been without Daniel that I hoped Will’s adjustment might be easier.

Natalie was quick to piece together what happened, leading to a painful but honest conversation between the three of us. I ached for Natalie, but she seemed to have a clear understanding of what had happened and the role Daniel had played in it. Instead of feeling anger at Josh, she was sad for him. For all of us.

Natalie hugged Josh fiercely. “I can’t be mad at you for protecting Mom, Josh.”

“Thank you, Natalie. It means a great deal to me to know that.” He’d hugged her back with equal ferocity.

“If I am mad at anyone, it’s Dad. And there’s nothing I can do about that now. I don’t understand how he could do something like this. Any of it,” she whispered.

“I don’t think your father knew what he was doing, Nat. You’ve seen people get sick physically. Sometimes people’s minds get sick.” Josh had spoken haltingly, uncertain of what to say.

“Your dad would never

have done anything to hurt you guys,” I said to her in reassurance. I didn’t know whether I was telling the truth, but it seemed the kindest thing to say now that Daniel was gone.

I didn’t want her to hate her father. She knew the truth now and would have to learn to cope with it. We were going to counseling. Natalie had every right to her feelings, I knew that. I hoped that talking to someone might help her find peace. I knew that Mom, Josh, and I would all be there to help however we could.

For two weeks following the incident, our small Texas town was overrun by the media. From the local police chief to Mrs. Witt, everyone had their five-minute interview about me, my divorce, Daniel, and my newfound romance with Josh Wiley.

The kids and I refused any publicity, though my mother gave a brief public statement requesting that the media respect the children’s space and their right to grieve their father. Amazingly, this was observed, partly because our small town police force had no qualms about making it happen.

As soon as everything legal was behind us, we headed to California. The move to Los Angeles was quick. The house was perfect, and I had to admit it was nice to have a home.

My imagined board games on the terrace became a reality. Some evenings Josh would sing for us. Sometimes he’d sing just for me.

Josh set up Natalie’s room, complete with her own television and computer. He was fairly concerned about setting up parental controls, which I loved, and made sure they were functional before Natalie was allowed access.

Will wanted to turn his room into a pirate room “since we’re on the beach”. After Will and I designed what he wanted, I had hours of fun painting murals on his walls. He was very pleased, but insisted we call him Cap’n Will. We were happy to indulge him—most of the time.

Mom had the guest suite and the promise of freedom. Which she countered by insisting she’d keep the kids when I set off on my book tour in the fall.