Chapter 18 Matilda #2
“By that point, I’d lost a part in a movie, and the headlines were slandering me constantly. I’d gone from the hottest actor in Hollywood to no producer even wanting to talk to me. I grew angrier and more frustrated, giving them even more fodder to share. And then I found a camera.”
My heart plummeted.
“I have a housekeeper, but he doesn’t clean my room.” He held up his hands. “Not in an obsessive way, but I enjoy doing it myself. I was dusting a painting on my bedroom wall and accidentally knocked it off. And I found a tiny camera hidden behind it.”
I gasped, and my hand shot to my mouth.
“I took the memory card, downloaded the footage, and saw Nancy positioning the camera, the pictures, and videos of…us. It all clicked then: the paparazzi always catching me, how the papers had pictures of things they could not have gotten. The next time she stayed over, I went through her phone. I found emails and messages to newspapers and journalists confirming what I’d discovered.
I forwarded them to myself and got a lawyer. ”
“What happened?”
“She obtained the paparazzi images and videos of us legally, so there wasn’t much he could do about those.
They didn’t violate any privacy laws. The lawyer explained that in California, disclosure of private information could only lead to civil liability—so, monetary damages.
Unlawful surveillance would mean criminal charges, depending on numerous factors. But they didn’t play in my favor.”
“Why not?”
“Her criminal record was squeaky clean. Only one camera was hidden in the whole house; she hadn’t done anything with the videos yet. The list goes on.”
“Was it not worth trying anyway?”
He shrugged. “The damage was done by that point, and I was conscious of her kid. I couldn’t take away the child’s only parent.
I wanted her out of my life and the whole thing to go away.
So instead, I confronted her and got her to sign a legally binding document saying that she’d never have any involvement with me again. ”
I shook my head in complete disbelief at his confession. I couldn’t comprehend my trust being broken like that.
“It was my fault partly. I was naive when I shouldn’t have been. I’d been in the industry long enough to know better.”
“Don’t be ridiculous. It wouldn’t matter if you’d been in the industry for sixty years; it still wouldn’t be your fault.”
He nodded slowly, a quiet sigh escaping him. His shoulders eased a fraction, and he glanced up, not guarded, just searching. “So, I don’t trust anyone anymore. And I promised myself that I wouldn’t change myself to be what someone else wanted me to be.”
A deep ache settled in my chest at his words.
He must have read the expression on my face, because he added, “Don’t feel sorry for me, Matilda. I like living this way—I need the privacy. I’m happier knowing I won’t be put in that position again.”
He inhaled deeply and continued, “When we met, I knew you weren’t being honest. Your behavior reminded me of Nancy in so many ways, I instantly had my guard up. You were just so fucking nice to everyone. No one does that without an ulterior motive. I didn’t realize your motive was acceptance.”
I froze as his words echoed inside my head.
I didn’t realize your motive was acceptance.
“It’s not,” I argued, but it lacked conviction.
“I heard you on the phone with Lily, and it felt like it was happening all over again. So I retaliated.” He paused, looking directly into my eyes. “I’m sorry, Matilda. You were right. I should have asked you at the start.”
“I’m sorry, too. For what I said to Lily. It was cruel, and I didn’t mean it.”
His lips curved. “You meant it, and it’s fine. I was purposefully difficult; you were just being honest.”
I shook my head and started to disagree before he interrupted.
“I spoke to my mother this morning. And I don’t know how I didn’t recognize it before, but you remind me a lot of her, of how she used to be.”
I attempted to school my face. Luca never spoke about his family.
“OK…”
“My father used to walk all over her.” He paused, taking a sip of his coffee. “She let everyone walk all over her. She’s my opposite. She’s soft, kind, and puts everyone else before herself. She used to do everything for everyone.”
My palms grew clammy, a knot tightening in my stomach. My mind raced, anticipating the words I dreaded to hear.
“When I was younger, I didn’t recognize how tired she always seemed. I’d just become an overnight sensation at eleven and was selfish, but she supported my career without complaint. She supported my father’s career without complaint. She practically did everything without complaint.
“When she was diagnosed with ALS and my father left us, she became a new person. She realized she’d wasted her life caring only about what others thought of her.
She didn’t know who she was or what she wanted anymore.
She was basically performing her whole life.
” His throat bobbed with a swallow. “In the end, it didn’t matter. ”
His words resonated so profoundly that my eyes burned with unshed tears. I swallowed and glanced at the ceiling for a moment.
She didn’t know who she was or what she wanted anymore.
Performing.
That word stuck. Echoed.
I rubbed my arms, unsettled. “That’s…That sounds so lonely.”
Luca nodded, offering me a sad smile.
My chest felt tight, like I’d swallowed something too large to fit. I tried to say something, anything, but the words wouldn’t come.
Because somewhere deep down, I recognized the truth in what he’d said. Not about his mother. About me. I’d spent so much of my life trying to be what people wanted. What I thought they needed. Some days, I barely recognized the person left.
The knot in my throat got tighter and tighter, the burning in my eyes becoming too overwhelming.
“Please don’t cry,” he said, softer than I’d ever heard him speak. “I don’t want to upset you.”
A tear escaped, and I swiped it away quickly. “I’m sorry.”
“You don’t need to apologize. I don’t want you to agree with everything I say unless you actually agree. If I’m pissing you off, tell me. Bottling your feelings up to avoid conflict doesn’t actually keep the peace.”
“It’s not as easy as that,” I insisted, feeling a bubble of frustration rise.
“It is.”
He didn’t get it. Mostly, I didn’t even realize when I was doing it. You can’t just switch it off. When I’d ever considered voicing my own feelings, these endless waves of guilt would crash over me.
Like, if I’d told Lily the other week that I couldn’t go to the bar with her because I was exhausted, I’d have lain in bed, guilt-ridden.
What kind of friend would I have been if I couldn’t show up for the one person who always showed up for me?
I’d rather be tired than have Lily feel hurt or disappointed.
And that was a rare occasion when I knew what I wanted. Anticipating what others wanted to hear had been my default mode for so long that I didn’t even know what I wanted or how I felt most of the time.
“Tell me what you’re thinking.” Luca placed his coffee cup on the table, turning to face me.
So—what? You can see that I’m messed up? Judge me for it? What if you think I’m overreacting or just even more…spineless?
“I don’t notice I’m doing it anymore. I don’t purposefully think, ‘What would this person want me to say?’ I just naturally do it. It’s wired into me.”
His brow furrowed. “I am categorically telling you that your honesty would make me happy, Matilda.”
I just shook my head, at a loss for words.
“Just try it.”
“What’s the point, anyway? You’ve made it clear that you don’t want to be friends. So why does it matter whether I’m being honest or not?”
He sat back for a moment and took a sip of his coffee. His eyes searched my face as if he too was looking for the reason why he cared enough to say this to me.
“It will make our partnership easier. If I know you’re being honest, it will make everything smoother. We might have a better chance at winning.”
A hollow ache spread through my chest. Why had I let the tiniest flicker of hope spark—that maybe it was because he cared for me and not just about winning the show?
Despite the twinge of hurt, I didn’t disagree with him. But why was I the only one who had to change? He wasn’t exactly pulling his weight when it came to making our partnership easy.
“It’s not fair, though. You’re asking me to change who I am while you walk around miserable and not talking to anyone. Why do I have to be honest with you if you’re still going to treat me like that?”
A corner of his mouth twitched upward, amused.
“I’ll try to be nicer,” he offered, and I laughed.
“Not good enough.” I crossed my arms, encouraged by his almost smirk.
“I bought you coffee,” he bargained, and I just raised an eyebrow in response.
He leaned back against the sofa and looked at the ceiling.
“If you promise to be honest with me, I will try to be nicer. I’ll participate in the show more, and we can get some footage for the cutaways, too.”
Now, that was a good offer. I had been gunning for some content for the cutaways from the start; it would increase our chances of winning.
“OK, deal.” I smiled and held out my coffee cup to him, some semblance of relief washing over me. “Cheers?” I asked, when his brow furrowed.
He rolled his eyes but obliged, knocking his cup against mine.
“I’m going to head to the studio to skate.” He looked at me in question.
I had just finished a workout and had mentally written off skating for the day. But it would probably be better if we both—
No, Matilda. Time to test the honesty deal.
“I’d prefer to stay here, if that’s OK?”
“Of course.” He stood, and I followed him to the door, relieved at his earnest tone.
“I’ll see you tomorrow, then?”
“Tomorrow.” He nodded and seemed to think better of his parting remark. “Bye, Matilda. Have a good rest of your day.” His words sounded forced and strained, a bit like he was being held at gunpoint. I’ll take it.
I smiled. “Bye, Luca.”