Chapter 14
LAINA
Waking up in the guest room, I wished we’d put a king-sized bed in here instead of a queen. And not for the first time.
I’d only spent a week sleeping in here so far, but I missed being able to properly sprawl on a bigger mattress. Even if Bennett took up a lot of space when he was beside me.
Which was something else I found myself missing, much too soon. We’d rarely spent a night apart in all our years together, and I couldn’t help but wonder if part of why I was still tossing and turning at night was because I didn’t have his big, furnace of a body next to me.
That in no way meant I was ready to move back into our bedroom. My anger had mostly dulled to sadness, which was just as hard to work through.
I reached for my phone to check the time, but I didn’t have the familiar spike of dread.
There had been a noticeable shift online after Bennett’s statement.
As the days passed, there were fewer tags with my name.
New posts were mostly about him, with people arguing over whether the statement was enough or it was just performative.
I hadn’t seen a new meme in four days. And many of the original ones had been taken down. I wasn’t sure what all Julian and Collette were doing behind the scenes beyond what Bennett had told me, but it was working.
And with that pressure off, I didn’t have anything to distract me from the state of my marriage. Opening my browser, I stared at the website for the divorce attorney Felicity had suggested I contact. Just in case.
Even at the height of my fury, I hadn’t been able to bring myself to make the call. When I married Bennett, I’d planned to be with him forever. But I hadn’t counted on him hurting me this much.
I locked the screen and stared at the ceiling.
His public statement had redirected attention, but it couldn’t give me back the version of my life that existed before he handed pieces of me to a wide audience while I had no idea.
The shift online had bought me more breathing room, but it hadn’t given me clarity.
And it hadn’t made me forgive my husband…
although I didn’t hate him for what he’d done anymore. Which was progress, I supposed.
Heaving a deep sigh, I sat up. As I scooted to the edge of the bed, my phone rang. There was an unfamiliar number on the screen, so I almost let it go. But then I impulsively decided to answer on the third ring. “Hello?”
“Laina Parker?” A woman’s voice came through the line. “This is Collette Connelly. I’m your husband’s new publicist."
“I know who you are.”
“I’m sorry to call out of the blue like this. I won’t take much of your time,” she promised. “But we’ve had several calls from big media outlets, and I wanted to check with you before I commit to anything.”
Her call was a new experience for me. Sheila had never asked my opinion about anything publicity-related, not even when I was appearing in public with Bennett.
I appreciated seeing his new rules in action.
“As long as he sticks to what he already said publicly and doesn’t put me through anything worse, I’m fine with him doing interviews. ”
There was a brief pause. “I appreciate that, but the requests aren’t for Bennett.”
I stood and walked to the window. “What?”
“We’ve had calls from two morning shows and one late-night booking producer. They’re asking for you. On-camera or remote. They want your perspective on what happened.”
“I’m not even sure what to think about that,” I admitted.
“It means the statement and takedown notices are working even better than we could have hoped,” Collette explained. “People feel strong empathy for victims. They want to know the truth from the person who experienced the harm.”
I shook my head. “Victim is too strong a word.”
What Bennett had done was bad, but I was still blessed in many ways that most people would never experience.
“I appreciate your perspective. It’s something you can address if you want to do any of the interviews. But nothing moves without your say. I can decline all of them cleanly, or I can hold them while you think.”
It was hard to believe how quickly the tides had turned. A week ago the internet had been laughing at my face. Now major shows wanted me to talk about the worst point of my marriage. “I need time.”
“Of course. Take it,” she quickly agreed. “I’ll tell them you’re considering and that we’ll respond when you’re ready. No pressure from my end.”
“Thank you.”
“And Laina — if you want to talk through the pros and cons with someone, I’m available,” she offered. “Or not. Your call.”
I ended the conversation and lowered the phone.
I didn’t know yet whether I wanted any part of stepping back into the spotlight on different terms. But for the first time since the awards ceremony, the choice was actually mine. Something I mulled over while I got ready for my day, drove Lucy to school, and then headed to the grocery store.
In the week I’d been back home, we’d gone through just about everything I’d bought, so I needed to do a big restock. I kept my sunglasses on and worked through my list as quickly as I could.
I turned the corner into the pasta aisle and nearly bumped into another cart that started to do a half turn at the last second.
“Sorry, I realized I forgot something.” The woman glanced over her shoulder and stopped. “Laina?”
It took me a moment to recognize Jordan’s wife. We’d met at a handful of industry-adjacent dinners and a few holiday parties thrown by the network. “Hi, Rachel.”
Her smile seemed a little forced. “I didn’t realize you shopped here.”
“Close to home.” I adjusted my grip on the cart. “How are you?”
“Good. Busy. You know how it gets once the school year is fully going.” She hesitated, glancing down the aisle and back to make sure we were alone. “Jordan mentioned things have been different in the writers’ room this week.”
Tilting my head, I drew my brows together. “Different how?”
“I don’t have all the specifics, but he said that Bennett pulled some material from an outline that had already been locked in and made it clear you would not be used for inspiration going forward.”
“Wow.” Getting confirmation that he was upholding his promise had more of an impact than I would’ve guessed.
She nodded. “Yeah, Jordan said it put them under more pressure with the schedule, but that Bennett wouldn’t budge.”
I wasn’t sure how to respond since I didn’t know Rachel enough to share my innermost thoughts with her, especially after how I’d been burned. “I see.”
Rachel seemed to realize she might have overshared. “I only mention it because I thought you deserved to know.”
“I appreciate it.”
She gestured at her cart. “I should finish before the kids start texting. It was good to see you, Laina.”
“You too.”
She headed toward whatever item it was she’d forgotten, while I stood in the middle of the aisle for longer than necessary, absorbing what she’d shared with me.
Bennett stuck to his guns even though it cost him time and goodwill with the people who made his show run.
I pushed my cart forward again, filled with more hope for my marriage than I’d had since the awards ceremony. And moving even faster than I had before.
After I checked out, I loaded the bags into the back of the car, climbed in, and sat with the engine running for a moment before pulling out of the lot. It’d taken me another fifteen minutes to finish shopping, but my mind was still whirling.
Needing to talk this out with someone, I called Felicity.
“Hey. Everything okay?” she asked.
“Yeah, I just need a sounding board. Can you talk for a few minutes?”
“Perfect timing. Faith just started her screen time, so I can easily give you thirty.”
I pulled out of the parking lot and merged into traffic. “Bennett’s new publicist called.”
After I gave her the rundown from that conversation, she asked, “That’s a lot to consider. What did you tell her?”
“That I needed time.”
“Good call because that can’t be an easy decision to make.”
I tightened my grip on the wheel. “And there’s something else.”
“Wait. What?” she gasped.
“I ran into Jordan’s wife in the pasta aisle.”
I explained how Rachel was connected to Bennett and everything she told me.
“Whoa,” she breathed. “He actually followed through.”
“Yup.”
“Does that change things for you?”
I took a moment to think before answering. “If I’m being completely honest with myself, maybe. I’m still sad, but I also feel hope that we’ll somehow find our way back to each other. And that scares me almost as much as my anger did.”
Felicity’s tone softened. “You don’t have to decide about anything tonight. Just don’t punish yourself for noticing that he’s actually doing the work.”
I nodded even though she couldn’t see me. “I’m trying.”
“I’m here for whatever you need.”
“I know. Thank you.”
My life might be a complete mess, but I had the best friend a woman could ask for, my daughter was working hard to mend our relationship, and my husband was doing the work to try to get us back on track. Things could be a heck of a lot worse.