Unwritten (Page 63)

“You better get us tickets,” Tegan warns. “I’m not traveling all the way from Beachwood Bay just to stand at the barricades screaming your name.”

“Front row, I promise.” I pause as long as I can before asking. “How’s Zoey?”

Tegan sighs. “You could just call her yourself and find out, you know.”

“Please,” I ask, hating that I have to beg for scraps about her life now. “You know I can’t.”

“I know you won’t,” Tegan corrects me before taking pity. “She’s fine. Good. She just moved into a new apartment in Hollywood, she sent photos, it looks cute.”

“How’s the script?” I ask.

“The studio has notes, but she’s happy with how it’s going. Dash is excited too.”

“Good,” I say, with a hollow longing in my chest. “I’m glad she’s happy.”

After filming in Beachwood Bay finished, I came straight out here to prep for my next role, but Zoey moved to LA like she planned. She’s writing Dash’s next movie and taking classes in screenwriting too. Not that she’s told me any of this: I have to find out from Tegan, every chance I get.

“You realize this is stupid, right?” My baby sister sounds exasperated. “I spent years telling her what you were up to, and now you’ve just reversed the roles. When will you put us all out of our misery and tell her you love her and want to be with her?”

I wish it was so easy. “I’ll see you when I get in,” I tell Tegan instead. “Say hi to Ryland for me.”

“Love you.”

I hang up, my fingers scrolling through my contact list until they find her name. The very last entry, but the only one who matters.

Zoey.

My sister doesn’t understand what tore us apart, but after I refused to talk about it for long enough, she finally dropped the subject. I don’t know what Zoey’s told her, probably that I’m a selfish ass who put my career in front of everything, including our relationship.

The truth is, she couldn’t be more wrong.

Zoey was upset that I took this job without talking it through. She thinks I didn’t even consider her, or us, before agreeing to leave her for months at a time.

The truth is, I nearly turned the job down so I wouldn’t have to be away from her.

When Jacques told me the role meant leaving for Australia right away, I told him I’d have to think about it. The part of a lifetime, a respected director—and I wasn’t sure if I should turn it down. My agent called that night, screaming and raging down the phone.

“What the hell are you playing at?” Josh raged. “You go out of your way to get a face-to-face with this guy, and you’re ready to throw it all away! What the hell’s wrong with you?”

And that’s when I realized just how deep I’d fallen with Zoey. How much she mattered to me, how far I’d go—just what I’d sacrifice—to be with her. I was ready to walk away from this incredible opportunity with barely a second thought just so I wouldn’t have to leave her.

And it was scary as hell.

“I’ve already told him you’ll take the job,” Josh cut me off. “You were lucky to get one chance in Hollywood, let alone two. Trust me, if you screw this up, there won’t be a third.”

He slammed his phone down, leaving me alone in the hotel lobby with nothing but my darkest fears.

Because if I was willing to give up everything for this girl, then how much would I lose when it all came crumbling down?

The same fears and dark pain that kept Zoey at arm’s length all this time came roaring back: loud and instant, taunting me with everything she’d helped me forget.

Remember how it feels to lose someone you love. Remember the emptiness, the grief. Remember feeling solid ground ripped away, like nothing would ever be the same.

I’d never loved a woman like this before; never cared for anyone except my family. If I was already willing to give up this much for her after just a few weeks, then how much deeper would I fall in a month? Two months? A year from now?

I could see it, stretching out in front of me. The two of us together in LA: me acting, her writing. Waking up in the morning to the sight of her sleepy smile, and falling asleep at night in the sweaty heat of our embrace.

It would be magic.

It would break my heart to see it end.

I’m not proud of what came next, how I acted, trying to brush off her protests like they meant nothing. I thought maybe if I could take a step back, skate by on a smile and an excuse the way I always did, then maybe I could make it out OK.

But Zoey knows me better than anyone. She refused to take my bullshit, and fuck, I don’t blame her for it.

The blame is mine. And now I have to live with the consequences.

“They’re waiting on set.” Another assistant gives me a breathless smile. I get up and follow her out to the middle of the massive courtyard. Hundreds of extras mill around; spotlights shine brightly, and everyone’s attention is soon focused on me.

I’m right in the middle of it all. It’s what I always wanted. My dreams are coming true, but it’s a hollow victory now that I’ve lost the one thing that mattered more than anything.

I wonder, is there any way I can fix it. Or is it too late?

Have I lost her for good?

***

Back at the hotel, I head straight across the lobby towards the elevators. It’s been a long day filming, and even though the rest of the cast are planning a night out in the city, I’m in no mood to party. I just want to order in some room service, and spend the night the way I always do: wondering what the hell Zoey’s doing half-way across the world, and why the hell I messed it up so bad with her—