Kicking Reality

Wesley follows onto the stage and sits beside me on the sofa, keeping his distance. He looks much better, tanned and with his hair slightly longer. Rehab agreed with him, his eyes no longer clouded by dark circles.

“This was an explosive season for the two of you. Let’s watch some of the highlights from season three.”

The footage rolls of our many moments. Some sweet, and some of our brawls. I knew Logan wouldn’t take kindly to seeing this again—he already watched season three despite me warning him not to. It only angered him and sent him on a jealous hissy fit but the positive came from the extremely heated sex that followed.

“How do you feel watching these moments?” Anthony asks, crossing his legs with his cue cards in hand.

“It’s not easy. It was a difficult time for both of us,” I answer honestly.

“And for you, Wesley?”

“The writing was on the wall.”

It never leaked out about Wesley’s night in Amsterdam. As much as it hurt me at the time, I understood how damaging it could be for him and his career. I didn’t breathe a word of it, allowing people to conjure up their own theories as to why we started to fall apart.

“You and Logan Carrington had quite an affair,” Anthony says with a wicked smile. “We’ve got some unseen footage of the two of you.”

They showed the party at Scarlett’s house; the two of us leaving in the limousine together. Then they showed some paparazzi shots of us in the Indian restaurant with Ash, us in London leaving the pub, and then they show footage from afar of us arguing on the street of London whe

n I had just found out about Louisa. The network never asked my permission to show this footage, but I didn’t care, it was all out in the open anyway.

“And Logan’s here?”

I nod. “Backstage.”

The producers asked if Logan could sit in but I refused and said no. I didn’t want him dragged into this any further, we had moved on and that was that. The media already followed us like crazy wherever we went. We kept a low profile, but they would come up with ridiculous stories and publish them time and time again for attention.

“Wesley, you had a difficult time this season and ended up in rehab. Are you out now?”

“Yes, clean and sober.”

“There’s also been some other controversy following you. Can we bring out Farrah?”

Farrah walks onstage dressed in gold skinny number with matching heels. Her hair is platinum blond, styled in heavy curls that sit at her waistline.

She sits on the other side of Wesley, away from me.

“Welcome Farrah,” Anthony greets her. “On several occasions this season, you were filmed talking about their relationship. It’s clear that you had an issue with Emerson which could be taken as jealousy.”

“You’re wrong, Anthony. I wasn’t jealous of her. What’s there to be jealous about?”

Bitch. What a low blow. The words are desperate to leave my tongue, but I cross my legs and look away from her—ignoring her childish comment.

“You were also seen out with Wesley quite a bit. Was something going on there?”

“Yes,” she admits as the audience gasps. “We had something on the side.”

Wesley shakes his head, disapproving. “One time doesn’t count as something on the side. I was drunk and high, clearly my judgment was clouded.”

The two of them get into a heated exchange which Anthony diffuses. I didn’t know what to say, still trying to control my emotions. I knew he cheated on me, it was impossible for Wesley to go without sex for such a long time. I just thought he had better taste than Farrah Beaumont.

“What do you think of this?” Anthony directs the question at me.

“Wesley and I had an agreement. He was free to do whatever he pleases. If you lay with dogs, you’re going to catch fleas”

“You fucking bitch,” Farrah swears, raising her voice. “Did you know your fiancé knocked me up? Huh? Yeah, right in your bed.”

“Jesus Christ, Farrah.” Wesley bows his head, between his knees.