Private Lives

She looked at him with contempt and he knew it was entirely justified.

‘It wasn’t like that. Jess, I never meant to treat you like that.’

He put out a hand to touch her arm, but she flinched back.

‘Don’t!’ she sobbed. ‘And don’t think you can come crawling back to me with “I’m sorry” and think that’s the end of it.’

For a moment he could hear Anna Kennedy’s voice nagging in his head.

Think about why you slept with Katie in the first place.

His fiancée’s exquisite, tear-streaked face made him feel so ashamed he could no longer look at it. But he knew his guilt and sympathy couldn’t distract him from what he wanted, needed to say.

‘I’m not crawling back, Jess,’ he said finally, and felt a sweet, powerful relief as the words came out of his mouth. ‘In fact, I’m not coming back at all. I just wanted to come here to tell you that. I am sorry, I really am. But it’s over.’

She stopped still on the sand and looked at him.

‘You bastard,’ she growled.

‘Maybe. Maybe you’re right. But this is for the best.’

‘How is this for the best, Sam?’ Her voice was trembling. ‘How can this possibly be for the best?’

‘I hate how this has happened, but in a weird way I’m glad it did, because we don’t want to end up at fifty still together and not in love. Not even close.’

The wind whipped at her honey-blond hair and for a moment Sam could see just how beautiful she really was, free from the make-up and the grooming, a real woman, not the Hollywood doll she had become since their stars reached the stratosphere. He remembered the day they had first met on the rom-com Who Needs This? It was the sort of movie that only worked if the leads had real chemistry, and they’d had it in spades. They were filming in the romantic paradise of Maui, they were young, free and single, and to be frank, they both knew an on-set affair never harmed any movie’s publicity. Looking back, their relationship should have ended the moment they got back to LA, but by then it had caught the attention of the American public. Jess’s TV series was taking off – the American public loved her, and they were all too happy to buy into the romance of her whirlwind courtship with this handsome Brit. Suddenly the two of them were hot. Everyone took Sam’s calls. Directors, producers came knocking. And when Who Needs This? became a genuine smash hit, Sam immediately joined the A-list. It had all been too fast, too soon. He knew that now.

‘Can I ask you a question?’ he said quietly.

‘So now you want to play quiz host?’

‘Why have we never talked about our actual wedding? Why have we avoided setting a date?’

Sam had proposed twelve months ago, because it seemed the next logical step. By then, ‘Samica’ were one of Hollywood’s most famous couples, and it seemed as though the whole world was holding its breath waiting for an announcement. But from the moment he had slipped the four-carat Harry Winston ring on her finger, he had felt unsettled. Now he knew why.

‘Because we’ve been too busy for a goddamn wedding, Sam. What, you think we should have gone off to some shitty little chapel in Vegas?’

‘Maybe.’ He shrugged. ‘Maybe we should have. Or maybe we never set a date because we both knew it wasn’t right.’

‘So now you’re justifying the hooker with the fact that I wouldn’t name the day? Screw you.’

He stepped towards her again.

‘Jess, you deserve someone who gets you,’ he said softly. ‘We both do.’

‘The only thing you deserve is herpes,’ she spat.

He grabbed her arms and looked into her eyes. She struggled for a moment, then stopped.

‘I’m lonely, Jess,’ he said. ‘Aren’t you?’

She looked away, down at the sand. He thought she wasn’t going to say anything, then she suddenly turned back and met his gaze.

‘Yes,’ she said. She looked so fragile and vulnerable swamped in that huge sweater. Part of him wanted to put his arms around her and protect her, but he knew it would only make it worse.

‘I’m sorry, Jess,’ he said, ‘I really am.’

She shook her head, tears rolling down her cheeks.