For Us (The Girl I Loved Duet 2)

Shit. I have so much to do and I can’t focus. I need to get a jump on tomorrow’s scenes, work through my process. But I also can’t imagine sitting down to do that when I don’t even know if Peter is going to walk onto set tomorrow.

I have to sit down.

My legs practically collapse underneath me and I put my head between my knees. It helps a little. Whatever methods I had of calming my anxiety before Peter came back into my life seem to be gone completely. I can’t remember them and I can’t get a grip.

I try a pep talk: Okay, Amber, you can do this. You need to take a shower. You need to sit down at your table and do your work, not matter what happens tomorrow. You’re a professional and you need to do your job. You’ve worked hard for this, and even if this is your fault, you can’t control everything. Peter is going to show up tomorrow, or he isn’t. You can’t change it.

I head into my bedroom and pull of the clothes I’ve been wearing since he left. I never thought I was the kind of woman that would fall apart this much after sleeping with a guy.

But even I can’t ignore the whispers in my head telling me it’s not just sex. This isn’t a one-night-stand that I found in some bar. This is Peter. Possibly the love of my life, and the resolution to a story that’s been writing itself for ten years. If that’s not worth falling apart over, then I’m not sure what is.

The hot water feels good. Clarifying.

Bless the first person to come up with a hot shower. For the minutes that you’re in there it seems like nothing is wrong in the world. It’s a steamy, muscle relaxing perfect little bubble.

My problems are still there when I step out, but at least it feels easier to face them when I’m clean. I pull on fresh clothes and retrieve my phone from the kitchen. No missed calls, and I try to ignore the sinking feeling in my chest as I dial his number again. No answer.

I dial another number, even though I wish I didn’t have to. He answers on the first ring. “Hello?”

“Michael? This is Amber Dwyer.”

“What can I do for you, Amber?” he says, getting right to the point.

I swallow. “I just wanted to let you know that I’ve been trying to get a hold of Peter for a couple days, and he hasn’t answered my calls. I wanted to make sure everything’s okay for shooting tomorrow. If something’s wrong and I need to change the shooting schedule, I need to know.”

There’s silence on the other end of the line. “Hello?”

Michael clears his throat. “What do you mean you haven’t heard from him?”

“I mean that I’ve been calling him all weekend so I can talk to him about some of the stuff from the edited script.” That’s not really true, but I don’t think Michael needs to know that. “I left him a couple of voicemails too, he hasn’t returned anything. Figured I could check in with you just to make sure that everything is okay, you know?”

“Of course,” he says, his voice snapping back into his normal agent mode. “I apologize for any inconvenience this has coursed you, and I hope this doesn’t damage the partnership that we were hoping to form with you.”

“No,” I say. “I’m still game if Peter is, but I need to know if he’s okay or if I need to rearrange the shoot for tomorrow.”

I’m not sure if I imagine the edge of panic in Michael’s voice or if I’m just projecting my own panic. “I’m going to call him right away and find out what’s up. I’ll get back to you, okay? Peter is a pro, and easily one of the best actors that I’ve worked with. I’m sure he wouldn’t miss your calls without a good reason. I’ll call you back!”

The line goes dead so suddenly that I almost jump. Yeah, Peter wouldn’t miss my calls without a good reason. He wouldn’t quit the show without a good reason. But I can’t help but think that I gave him a pretty damn good reason. I would walk away too if someone I thought had forgiven me accused me of something like that.

I have to do this work, but my nerves are still frayed. So I pour myself a shot. Just one, and knock it back with a grimace. Just enough to take the edge off of everything that I’m feeling. Like a reflex, I call Peter again, and get his voice mail. Shit. What if something really is wrong? What if I made him so angry that he did something stupid? That he got drunk and got in an accident? What if the reason he’s not answering my calls is because he can’t?