“I'm sure we'll see each other around.”
“That's not what I mean,” I say.
“Yeah, it's the last time.”
My throat cracks. I suppress a sob. Luke puts his arms around me and I bury my head in his chest.
“Please. I can do it soon. But I'm not ready,” I say, and I feel his arms hold me tighter.
“Then do it soon. But don't expect me to wait for you.”
I squeeze Luke tighter. This can't be the last time I hold him. This can't be the last time I kiss him. This can't be the last time I see him.
But what can I do? Break up with Ryan? That would never work. I'm not strong enough to survive without him.
I feel Luke's grasp slip. His arms pull away from me. His eyes connect with mine, so dark and full of pain.
“Don't worry. You'll be relieved I'm out of your hair. You'll be relieved I can't force you to make any more promises.”
I shake my head.
“You can do it right now. You can call him right now,” Luke says.
Again, I shake my head. I wish I could. I really, really wish I could.
“Yeah, that's what I figured. Well, good luck. I hope he's worth it.” Luke offers his hand to shake. I take it, my grip weak, my palm sweaty. He pulls his hand back and runs it through his hair.
“I'm really going to miss you,” he says and he reaches for the door. And, just like that, the door closes behind him, and he is gone, and I am empty.
And, for the first time in weeks, I am desperate to fill myself with anything.
***
I stand across from Naomi, blinding light shining in my eyes. The director insisted on the placement of the light, apathetic to the fact it makes it impossible to concentrate. It is my line, but I can't recall what I am supposed to say. Some fight between Marie Jane and her sister. Some attack on Marie Jane. Something to play big and loud, with the sort of faux outrage Marie Jane loves.
But, when I open my mouth, a sob escapes. I try to roll with it. I try to play it off as one of Marie Jane's fake crying fits. I try to play it off as a fake crying fit turning into a real crying fit. Naomi marches through her lines, even as my sobs get louder and louder. Tears run down my cheeks, falling off my chin and landing on my chest. We finish our lines.
The director calls the scene. “Really interesting energy. Maybe we can try something a little more fun,” he says.
“Yeah, sure,” I say to no one in particular. “Give me a minute?”
The director nods. Used to dealing with temperamental actors, no doubt. I run to the nearest bathroom, passing Laurie in the hallway. I wipe off my tears, wiping away half of my makeup with them. I try to smile. Not even close. I aim for anything but the miserable expression on my face. Closer, but not close enough.
I splash cool water on my face. I try to breathe. I can't feel this yet. I can't admit it yet. I need to finish the day. I need to go home, and get through dinner with Ryan, and lock myself in my room and cry. I need to take tonight, to feel this, to grieve, to hurt, but I have to wait until tonight. I have to wait until I am safe, in the spare room, alone, with nothing but the ocean view to console me. No one can know how much this hurts. Not Naomi. Not the stupid director. And certainly not Ryan.
The door opens. I clear my throat and splash more water on my face. I look up into the mirror and see Laurie standing next to me. Fuck, my eyes are red. My makeup is a mess. I'm a mess.
“You okay?” she asks.
“Yeah, just allergies,” I say.
“You don't have to lie to me,” Laurie says. “But you do have to get back out there. We have two scenes until we wrap. This one is hard. The next is easy. In four hours, you'll be out of here. You can go home. You can go somewhere else. Hell, you can drink yourself stupid in my office if you want. But you have to make it through those four hours. Okay?”
“I'm fine,” I say.
“You're a bad liar,” Laurie says. “We're friends, even if I'm technically your boss. But, as your boss, I need you to get back out there and turn on that Marie Jane charm.”
“Okay,” I say.