Chapter 48
LUKE
The phone was still in my hand, my call with Anna barely disconnected, and already I was second-guessing everything I’d just said.
Maybe this isn’t working.
What in the world had I been thinking?
I’d wanted her to fight for me, but she didn’t. She didn’t even try.
I dropped the phone on the table and leaned back against the trailer wall, staring at the ceiling. The conversation played on a loop in my head, every word cutting deeper.
I didn’t call her every day because I had to. I called her because I wanted to. Hearing her voice was the only thing keeping me sane.
But it wasn’t enough for her. I wasn’t enough.
It wasn’t like I’d hidden anything. She’d seen me. All my flaws, my doubts, the cracks I kept hidden from everyone else. And what did she do with that? She decided the real me wasn’t enough to fight for.
I shoved the script off the table, letting it fall to the floor. I remembered the director’s notes from earlier: “You’re holding back, Luke. You’re not connecting.”
I was holding back. But what good had it done to open up? It had only left me exposed, raw, and now alone.
I rubbed a hand over my face. My chest tightened, and for a moment, I thought about calling her back. Apologizing. Telling her I didn’t mean it.
But then what? More silence? More excuses? More refusals to ever come to LA?
I glanced down at the script, the pages splayed across the floor. One of the lines stared back at me, underlined in red ink by Gerald Fargo himself: “A hero doesn’t quit when the world falls apart. He fights harder.”
I barked a humorless laugh, shaking my head. A hero fights harder. Sure.
But I wasn’t a hero.
I stood up and grabbed the script, shoving it back onto the table. A knock on the door interrupted my thoughts, and the assistant director spoke. “We need you on set now.”
I stared at the door for a second, then squared my shoulders. If I couldn’t be enough for Anna, maybe I could at least be enough for this role.
It was all I had left.