I knew he wouldn’t react well, but it hurts just the same. “It’s true. I love you.”
He doesn’t believe me, that much is obvious. “Why would you love me?”
I could list all the reasons, I guess—tell him how he’s helped me feel less shame, to break out of my fear and to feel uninhibited and free; because I’ve seen him at his most vulnerable, seen through the role he’d created and all the layers of hurt to him, and what I see is beautiful…But it’s hard to get the words out when I take in Logan’s shuttered gaze. The more I speak about how much I love him, the more he will want to reject me.
“It’s all right if you don’t feel the same,” I say, even though my heart clenches at the thought, “but—if you do, we don’t have to stop our relationship just because of a movie, or Dave’s schedule. We could figure something out.”
He runs a hand through his hair, messing it up. “Time. Fuck. I need time, all right? I need time to think.” He runs his hands over his eyes. “Shit, Matt. Why did you have to say that?”
I will my tears not to come. It isn’t fair to cry right now and make him feel guilty for possibly not loving me, for not wanting to be with me. “Because it’s the truth.”
“I don’t know if I love you,” he tells me.
His words hurt so much it takes my breath away. Maybe I should’ve thought this through. Figured out a better way, a better time, to tell him how I feel. But it’s too late to take back now. “Okay. I get it.”
“Let’s take a break from seeing each other,” he tells me. “I need to figure some shit out.”
“Are you pulling away again?”
“Just for a little while.”
I’d practically moved in with Logan this past week, both of us abandoning our hotel rooms. I’m afraid to leave him alone. I’m afraid that he’ll stop answering calls and won’t show up to set, afraid of what I might find when I open his apartment door.
But maybe he sees my fear. “I’ll be all right, Mattie.”
“If you start to feel—you know, the way you were feeling, please text me or call me. It doesn’t matter what time it is. Okay?”
He nods, and it relieves me a little, that I believe him. “Okay. I promise.”
*
I hadn’t thought things through enough when I decided to tell Logan that I love him. Quinn stands in the doorway, drenched from running in the rain. He’s breathing hard, tears in his eyes. I stand in front of him, my heart splitting open, because I don’t want to hear the words that’re about to come out of his mouth.
“I’m sorry,” he says. He steps inside and hesitates before he reaches for me. I force myself not to pull back. “God. I’m so sorry, Riley. You were right.”
“What’re you doing here, Quinn?” The anger in my voice is real. The hurt, the confusion. I’ve felt this enough times with Logan.
“I—” He lets out a shaky breath. “I couldn’t say it before. I have to say it now. You were right. I love you. I’ve never loved anyone like this before—but you. Riley, there’s no one else like you.”
I swallow. These words are hitting a little too close to home right now. Quinn’s eyes look hollow as he turns into Logan, clenching his jaw. I haven’t been Riley for this entire scene. I can’t get into character. Dave doesn’t seem to notice. He hasn’t said anything from across the set. Maybe it’s one of those moments when my character blends with who I am so perfectly that I don’t have to act. Maybe it’s the tighter production schedule.
“How can I believe you?” I ask him. “I can’t believe you, Quinn. You hurt me. You broke my heart.” I lose my breath for a second, real pain clogging my throat. “I trusted you. I let myself be vulnerable with you, just for you to reject me.”
“Riley,” he says, “I know I don’t deserve your forgiveness. I’m sorry I told you I don’t love you. That was just the character I made up to protect myself. I was scared. That’s all. But now, I see how much you mean to me. I can’t lose you. Not again.”
I take a shaking breath, and I let him pull me into his arms. His body is familiar, his skin and his hair against my cheek. I want to sink into him, like when we’d hold each other in his bed, whispering in the dark. We kiss. I’m afraid to touch Logan, but he told me that this was okay beforehand, and he pulls me in even tighter. “I love you,” he says.
I let myself believe it’s Logan telling me this, not Quinn—just for a moment.
*
Filming wraps for Write Anything. The production schedule was tight, but I survived it, somehow. I can’t imagine how difficult these past weeks have been for Gray if they were hard for me.
“I’m worried about him,” I tell Julie. We’re undercover, which is a nice change from the very public lunches and dinners Logan and I have had together. We’re at the back of a dark restaurant in the neighborhood she lives in, over by Los Feliz. “I’m not sure if I’m the best person to help him, and I don’t know if he’s actually getting the help that he needs.” He said he needed space, and I’ve given him that—but it’s been over a week since I told him how I feel; over a week of worrying about him, unable to stop thinking about him…
“Logan’s never been the sort of person to accept help,” she says. She’s been apologetic for immediately siding with Briggs, but even knowing that Logan told the truth hasn’t helped her opinion of him. “He doesn’t open up to anyone and tell them what’s really going on, and he keeps bottling it all up until he finally self-destructs. I can feel bad for him, sometimes,” she admits. “But feeling bad for someone doesn’t mean I should open myself up to getting hurt by them over and over again.”
She asks me if I’m going to the wrap party tonight. I already know Logan isn’t going, from what I’ve heard on set. He’s probably gotten angry phone calls about it, but no one can force him. He’s been focused on the job the past couple of weeks since the assault—coming in to set, delivering an incredible performance, and leaving—but there’s a quiet tension everywhere he goes. I don’t know how he’s able to handle that stress. Maybe he isn’t actually handling it, not really.
“I don’t know.”
“It’s not going to look great if the movie’s two stars don’t show up.” She pauses, then shrugs. “Maybe it doesn’t matter how it looks.”
“I just want to be ready at the hotel in case Logan texts me.”
Julie has known that this relationship is just a publicity stunt, but I think she’s caught on that, even if Logan and I haven’t decided to become privately official, things are just a little more complicated now. “I know your relationship is your business, but…It’s okay for you to have needs separate from Logan, too.”
I lean back in my seat as her words hit me. She’s right. I want to be supportive, but my life has only revolved around Logan recently. Before he asked for space from me, we would leave the set together and go back to his apartment. Sometimes we didn’t even talk for the entire night. I’d just sit beside him or hold him. I loved being by Logan’s side. But it’s true, I think, that I’ve started to lose myself. For the past two weeks, I’ve only gone to my hotel room and thought about Logan, wondered if he’s okay, hoped that he would text or call.