Second Chance

It’s when he tosses my bag over his shoulder and holds his hand out for me to take that the splintered pieces in my chest seem to warm, growing hotter and hotter until I place my hand in his and stand up in the small space he’s given me. There’s something about the way my hand fits so perfectly in his. Something about the way his thumb moves along the back of my hand. It makes me feel like it’s alright. Like everything is better than alright. Like it’s supposed to be this way.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers and plants a small kiss in my hair.

It’s not a thought, not a conscious decision. I only pull my hand away from his so I can wrap my arms around him and bury my head into his chest.

“I’m sorry,” I breathe into his chest and peek up at him. It’s not our first fight or even the second. And each time it hurts more and more, but when he holds me again, when I know he still loves me, that feeling is the best in the world. I can’t imagine anything feels better than that.

The door to Lydia’s room opens, letting in the sounds of chatter outside the room and the construction noises from a set being built only twenty feet or so away. It’s silenced when she closes it and she sags against the door with the biggest smile on her face.

The social butterfly that she is, she’s been networking like crazy and I’m sure that she won’t rest until everyone here knows exactly who Lydia Parker is.

“You have to leave this room, Harlow,” Lydia says as she walks to the small fridge and grabs a bottle of water. “For real, there are so many people you need to meet.” She takes a swig and then plays with the plastic cap between her fingers. “I don’t know what’s gotten into you, but this hideaway shit will not cut it here.”

I take in her words and had I not seen Nathan, I’d take her advice in a minute. Shit, I’d be walking around right by her side this entire time, forcing the nerves down and doing what I need to in order to get my career on the right track. But the nerves reeling through me don’t have a damn thing to do with work. It hasn’t even been a blip on my radar since I saw him.

I fiddle with my phone and debate on how to tell her. It’s eating me alive and I can’t keep hiding.

“Who texted you?” she asks but doesn’t wait for an answer before snatching the phone from my hand. It’s the first time I’ve moved from her bed, hopping off but not bothering to reach out and take it. The defense is a natural one, but Lydia can take the damn phone if she wants.

“Are you mad that your mom is still being … well, your mom?” she asks me after glancing at the text. Her voice holds nothing but concern and sympathy. My mother told me good luck, but added how worried she is. I’ll be lucky if she lets me leave the house again when I go home after shooting wraps up. This isn’t the life she had in mind for me and she’s uncomfortable. But she won’t hold me back. It’s obvious she doesn’t support my decision though.

I take the damn phone from her and lay back onto the bed.

“No, I knew she’d be like this.” I don’t blame my mom; it’s just something she has to accept. She will. I have faith.

I cover my face with my hands. I don’t have time for this stress and everything that’s going on around me. It all needs to just stop. The memory of what happened that night keeps replaying in my mind. The sound keeps echoing in my head. It just won’t stop. Nathan’s a reminder of that night and I can’t separate the two right now.

The bed dips as Lydia sits down next to me. “Look, I’m not going to sugarcoat this for you, Harlow.” She puts both hands on her tanned knees and stares straight ahead before looking back at me. “This is fucking hard, but you need to get your ass out there and network. You need to be out there.” She stresses each word, the savvy business side of her coming to the forefront.

“I, seriously, am not okay,” I start to tell her, searching for the right words.

“Knock it off,” Lydia says with a strength I wasn’t expecting. “You are not going to give this up. Grab a hold of your big girl panties …”

“I used to be with Nathan Hart,” I interrupt her, spilling my secret and holding my breath as she stops mid word and registers what I’ve told her.