Wish You Were Her(90)

“You don’t need to say anything back,” he told her, meaning it. “But I love you. Like how Pip loved Estella. My whole life, I was told I couldn’t have the things I read about in books, the things I saw neurotypicals having. They said I wouldn’t be anything. Education, speech, friendship. All of it wasn’t what they saw for me. But I did it anyway. I’m done listening to them. Whoever ‘they’ even are. I love you and I always will.” He said it all so matter-of-factly but it was because he wasn’t afraid anymore. Love wasn’t supposed to be selfish. “People get embarrassed after they fall—that’s why I was such an arse. It’s no excuse. But I fell a while ago and I’ve not been able to get over it. I love you. And it’s been you. All along.” He loved her, no matter what the next scene held. It was a fact, not a conditional offering.

“Allegra!”

He didn’t look away from Allegra when the studio employee hissed her name from the aisle of the cinema, and she didn’t look away from him.

“Allegra, can you come backstage a sec? They want to do a line-up for the Q&A. We’re doing it before the screening now, Anya has to catch a flight.”

“Go,” Jonah told her softly. “Go be great. You always are.”

“Allegra?” the employee pushed.

“I want to stay here with you, though,” Allegra finally said.

“I’ll be right here. Whatever you need, I’m here.”



* * *



When it seemed as though the employee might actually become physical, Allegra moved. She floated toward the small room that was considered “backstage.” The rest of the cast had been assembled, along with the director.

“Phones off, everyone!”

Allegra moved to turn hers off, almost on autopilot. In doing so, sudden curiosity struck her and she opened her personal email address.

There he was. Waiting for her.

Dear Friend, it said. He still didn’t know who he was truly writing to.

Dear Friend,

I think I’m falling in love. In fact, I know I am. I may already be all the way there. I think about her all of the time. I’ve always had a mind that either fixates or wanders and now it does both, over her. My thoughts always lead back to her.

And she’s been hurt. Badly.

And it’s my fault. Or rather, it wouldn’t have happened at all if it weren’t for me. I don’t think she’ll ever be able to separate me from this horrible hurt. I need three wishes now, more than I ever have, and I’m so aware that I don’t have them. I can’t fix it for her.

I’ll spare you the details. You’ve seen it on the news. Sell them this email, if you like. My ex-best friend certainly sold me out, I don’t expect loyalty from anyone now.

That was unfair, I’m sorry. You can probably tell I’m a mess.

How do I convince the girl that the whole world wants a piece of that she’s my whole world? And that I want all of her?

Anyway. This is a thank you, and a goodbye. Your wonderful friendship got me through the denial stage of love. But I’m not in denial anymore. You deserve better than a lovesick bookseller. I’ll always be here if you need a friend. But I have to start writing something else now.

Love,

Jonah

She stared at his letter and suddenly the clouds that had been gathering for so long were gone. The rain stopped. The way ahead cleared.

She had come to Lake Pristine to find her own little slice of the world. But what if that didn’t have to be a place or an event or a moment in time?

Her search for something better could be another person, one just like her.

What a waste. Years of her life, the latter parts of her precious childhood, spent living through emails and meetings and screen tests. No friends, no holidays, just pats on the head from executives who needed a bright little product. The only truthful moments of her life were a few seconds of magic per day, captured on a camera that could go from being a dear friend to an invasive stalker within minutes.

She loved her job. But it couldn’t love her back.

So when she and her colleagues were ushered onstage to rapturous applause, Allegra found his face in the crowd. It was a lighthouse, an anchor. She felt so much lightness where weight and heaviness had once resided.

And she suddenly knew that, for the first time at one of these events, she was going to tell the truth.



* * *



“Allegra, what inspired you to take on this project?”

The question came after numerous others had been put to the rest of the cast and crew. The script had been praised, the greenlighting process discussed. A couple of the actors with larger roles had waxed lyrical about the filming and their co-stars. It was all very polite and shiny and wonderfully fake.

While the others had been talking, Allegra had taken in the audience. Her heart had almost stopped when her gaze had landed on a smirking Julie M. Atkins, seated two rows behind Jonah. When she met Allegra’s gaze, the columnist gave a snarky little sneer and Allegra was back in that restaurant once again, feeling on trial. But she steadied her nerves. She would not let Julie have the last word. No one was having the last word on Allegra Brooks anymore.

The question was a generic one, asked by a friendly but shallow radio presenter called Matteo, who was hosting the talkback session. Allegra smiled, regardless.