Chapter 40
Josh
‘Why aren’t we shooting the dinner scene today?’
I consult the side in my hand. Elle and I were supposed to be shooting together today, but according to the side, I’m doing a short scene with Nick. Which I have not run my lines for.
Alyssa rubs her head distractedly and hesitates. ‘Elle’s ill. She won’t be back for a few days.’
What the fuck? ‘A few days? Is she okay? What’s up with her?’
I haven’t heard from her since she kicked me out of her room yesterday morning. I’ve sent her a few WhatsApps and nada. I know she was pissed at me, but I was hoping she’d cool off in London and be more amenable to me by last night.
‘She had a bad flare-up.’ Alyssa puts her hand on my arm as if in sympathy. ‘She’s in hospital, from what I understand. They admitted her in the early hours.’
Hospital? Hospital? Oh my fucking… ‘A flare-up? What kind of flare-up? What the fucking hell is wrong with her?’
She stares at me. ‘You don’t know? About her…’ She makes a circular motion around her stomach area with her finger.
‘No. About her what?’
‘My mistake. I just assumed—I can’t divulge any medical information. I’m sorry Josh.’
‘I’m not shooting today.’ I’m already pulling off Dom’s stupid coat. ‘I can’t. I need to go see her, make sure she’s okay.’
In the end, I have to call my publicist, Mike, who is not happy at being woken up. He calls Mara and gets her to cough up Elle’s location. Turns out, she’s at the Princess Grace Hospital in London, but I have no fucking clue what’s wrong with her.
I drive down there as quick as possible.
The whole time, I’m wondering what the hell kind of health problems she has that I’m not aware of.
Cancer? MS? Lupus? The M25 is clear, thank fuck, and when I get to the hospital in Marylebone, there are no paps circling.
Good. The news hasn’t leaked, then. From what I know of Elle, she’d be furious if the press found out she had any vulnerabilities at all.
I pull my baseball cap right down and stick on a surgical mask. The front desk directs me upstairs, where I’m faced with a young nurse.
‘I’m here to see Ellery Hart,’ I tell her.
She looks at me like I’m stupid to even think I can pull one over her. ‘Miss Hart is not taking visitors.’
I hate doing this—it’s a douchey thing to do—but I’m outta options. I pull down my mask, take off my cap, rake my fingers through my hair and give the nurse my most devastating smile.
‘Look’—I peer at her name badge—‘Carly. I totally appreciate that. But Elle’s a good friend of mine. I just wanna make sure she’s doing okay.’
Her jaw drops and her eyes grow huge. ‘Ohmygod. Ohmygod. Hi. Hi! Sure. I mean, I’m sure that’s fine. I’m a really big fan. I loved Ghoul!’
You’re literally the only person on the planet who did, darlin’.
I keep grinning. ‘Aren’t you a sweetheart? That’s so kind of you to say. So what do you think? Can I sneak in and say hi to Elle?’
Her eyes dart down the corridor and back. ‘It should be fine. Just be quick, if that’s okay? I’ll get into trouble otherwise.’
I wink at her. ‘We absolutely can’t have that. I’ll be super quick. You won’t even know I’m here.’
I practically sprint to Elle’s room.
And when I open the door…
Oh.
My.
Fuck.
She’s lying there in bed, propped up on pillows. There are tubes everywhere. Machines beeping.
Her skin is deathly pale. Even her lips are devoid of any colour.
There’s a dark-haired woman sitting next to Elle. She shoots me a look I’m pretty sure she wishes was lethal.
I could give a fuck.
I walk towards Elle.
‘Hi,’ she croaks, and she doesn’t sound friendly. Not unfriendly. Just flat-out exhausted.
‘Oh my God.’ I cross to the bed and bend to carefully drop a kiss on her forehead. It’s clammy under my lips.
I straighten up and stroke her hair as I stare down at her, trying to wrap my head around what the hell happened since I left her in bed, pissed at me but otherwise fine.
‘What happened, baby?’
‘It’s none of your business,’ snaps the hostile brunette. ‘You shouldn’t be here—I don’t know how the hell you got in.’
‘Nor.’ Elle raises her hand off the bedsheets; she has an oximeter clipped to her finger. ‘Give us a sec, will you?’
The brunette gathers herself up with a filthy glare at me and stalks out of the room.
I waste no time in stealing her chair and dragging it so it’s as close to the bed as possible.
I sit and carefully clasp Elle’s hand between mine.
It’s as cold and clammy as her forehead.
I close my hands more tightly around it.
‘Jesus, baby. You have me fucking terrified. What are you—are you gonna be okay?’
She laughs weakly and sinks her head further back into her pillows. Lets her eyelids droop closed. ‘I’ll be fine. I’ve just been overdoing it.’
I scan the picture in front of me. ‘This isn’t overdoing it. You look like you’re dying.’
‘This is why I didn’t want you to see me like this.’ There’s a note of despair in her voice that I don’t get.
‘Who cares? What’s wrong with you—have they given you a diagnosis?’ Do you need me to speak to somebody?’
’No, Josh. Don’t get your knickers in a twist. I’ve had a diagnosis for years. This is not uncommon. Well—it’s uncommon for it to get this bad, but I’ve lived with this for over a decade.’
She opens her eyes, and my confusion must show, because I still have no fucking clue what’s going on.
I remember something. ‘Alyssa said you had a flare-up? But once she figured I didn’t know what she was talking about, she wouldn’t tell me any more.’ I rub her hand slowly between my fingers, urging it to warm up.
She sighs. ‘I have Crohn’s disease. Do you know what that is?’
‘Uh, no.’ But it sounds nasty. It sounds terrifying. My heart rate ratchets up at the idea that my poor, beautiful girl has some kind of scary-sounding disease.
‘It’s not very glamorous.’ She attempts a little laugh.
Is she kidding me right now? ‘Fuck glamorous. I don’t give a shit if it’s glamorous or not. I’m worried about you. I need information.’
‘I don’t have the energy to explain it all now. But it’s an auto-immune condition that causes inflammation in my intestines. For me, it’s mainly in my colon.’
‘And what does that mean—what does the inflammation do?’
‘It’s different for everyone. It makes my colon scab up and start bleeding. It’s incredibly painful, and, well, embarrassing.’
‘There is nothing you could say that would embarrass me or make me embarrassed for you. Shoot.’
She looks away from me, down at the cannula in her other hand. ‘I lose control of my bowels. I… get diarrhoea, basically. But much worse. And I haemorrhage. Out of my bum.’ She braves a quick glance at me before turning away. And oh my God. My heart is breaking for her.
‘It’s okay.’ I squeeze her hand. ‘And that’s what happened last night?’
‘Yeah. Both of those. Being run down brings it on. So last night, when I got back from Gordon Kay, things got pretty bad. I couldn’t stop the bleeding and so Nora—she’s my flatmate—called an ambulance sometime in the middle of the night.
I’d lost a fair amount of blood, and the diarrhoea made me severely dehydrated too. Hence the drip.’
‘Holy fucking shit.’ I stare at her. ‘And you had this when we were together? When we dated?’
‘Yeah.’
‘Why didn’t you tell me?’
‘Oh, I don’t know. Maybe because I was dating the most gorgeous movie star in the entire world, and I was crazy about you, and I had a hunch that if I told you I regularly lost control of my bowels and shat myself, you might not fancy me quite so much?’
I flinch, both at her brutal honesty and at how wrong she has it.
‘Nothing you could tell me would ever change my mind about you, about how beautiful and sexy you are.’ I stare at her, willing her to believe me.
‘Well, we’ll never know, will we? I didn’t tell you, and I still wasn’t enough for you.’
No.
No.
No.
I wasn’t enough for you.
That’s why I had to let you go.
‘You were everything. You were perfect. You always have been.’
She closes her eyes briefly. ‘Oh, shut up, Josh.’
I’m reeling to process all this information—not only how badly this Crohn’s shit (and I) have damaged her confidence, but the fact that she lives with an invisible illness and I’ve been oblivious. ‘Does this happen often? When was the last time you were hospitalised?’
‘A couple of years ago. The worst was—’ She stops suddenly.
‘The worst was what?’
‘Nothing.’
‘Elle.’
Her eyes slide back to me. If I thought I had feelings for her before, looking at her little white, drawn face only brings home to me how much I love her. I feel so fucking helpless here. I want to pull out these tubes and take her home and lie down beside her and not let her out of my sight.
‘The worst was when you dumped me.’
My body is splitting open from the pain. My heart is pouring itself out through my chest.
‘Go on, baby.’
I give her a nod. I can’t run from this.
From the consequences of what I’ve done.
I’ve gotten so good at running over the years.
At avoidance. There’s no avoiding this. Yesterday morning, I had the nerve to think to myself that she was overreacting.
I suspect I’m just about to get a giant fucking reality check.
‘I got myself into such a state, I had a massive flare-up. Like, huge. I was in hospital for two weeks. Multiple blood transfusions. I lost a stone and a half. The doctors were actually considering surgery—removing my colon and putting in a stoma bag.’
Oh my God. Oh my God. Oh my fucking God.
She’s crying now. Heartbreaking little tears that run down her cheeks. She’s fucking dehydrated. She can’t go crying out her limited water supply on me.
‘Oh, sweet Jesus. Elle. Baby. I am so fucking sorry for causing you so much hurt.’
‘You didn’t just break my heart.’ She’s whispering. ‘You broke my body, too.’
I plummet over the edge. I press our entwined hands to my forehead and weep for the needless fucking agony and suffering I’ve caused this beautiful woman. The only woman I’ve ever loved.
‘Jesus Christ.’ I’m not usually lost for words, but there are no words to tell her how sorry I am. To make it right.
‘So you see why I’m angry at myself for letting you get close to me again. I’m here right now because I got in a state over you. Again. You’re not good for me. You’re really, really toxic for me. My body can’t handle you. It doesn’t know how. You’re too much.’
‘Don’t say that.’ I want to beg. I need to beg.
‘I know you have no reason to trust me. But I’m not the guy you dated back then.
I was so fucking entitled and wrapped up in my own demons.
But every piece of work I’ve done on myself is to become worthy of you.
To be healthy enough to be there for you, the way you deserve. ’
We sit there, hands sealed together, and she just shakes her head in this defeated way, and it fucking slays me.
My tears come thick and fast from my well-hydrated body.
She put up so many barriers around herself, and now they all make total sense.
I’m a toxic parasite, and I can’t believe she’s let me in this close.
I can’t believe she can even bring herself to look at me.
To speak to me.
The door opens. Oh, fan-fucking-tastic. It’s her pit-bull.
‘You made her cry? Seriously? I leave for five minutes and you made her fucking cry?’
‘Nor. Leave it. I’m fine.’ Elle’s exhausted. I’ve exhausted her, which I have no business doing.
She should be resting.
She shouldn’t be letting me drain her. Again.
I let go of her hand and stand up. I need to do some serious grovelling, to Elle and to Nora. Given what Elle just told me, I’m surprised Nora even let me in the room.
‘Hey, Nora.’ I hold out my hand. ‘I’m Josh. It’s a pleasure to meet you. Elle’s lucky to have you in her life.’
‘Which is more than I can say for you,’ she mutters, but she takes my hand and eyes me curiously.
‘I’m gonna go and let Elle rest.’ I’ve done enough damage. I need to let her heal. But I can’t stay away for long. I turn back to Elle.
‘When will they let you go?’
‘Tomorrow morning, hopefully. If I promise to rest up when I get home.’
‘Do you want some company tonight? I can come back? I’m sure they have a cot I can sleep on.’
She smiles. ‘No. I’m pretty drowsy from the morphine. I’m sure I’ll sleep like a baby.’
‘Let me come help you get yourself home, then.’ I’m desperate.
To help.
To show up for her, for once.
To prove I’m not a flight risk at the first sign of trouble.
She and Nora exchange glances, and Nora gives a tiny nod.
‘If you’re sure?’ Elle says. ‘Nora has work tomorrow. She should be at work right now, in fact.’
‘You got it.’ Better and better. I get to take Elle home and avoid the pit-bull. ‘I’ll be here first thing. I’m gonna look after you, baby.’