Marissa #3
She has a point. Then again, I never would have predicted things with Rocky would turn out like they did.
He was different when I first met him, brand-new to Hollywood and eager to prove himself.
But he always had magnetic, illuminating charm.
He was the sun, casting radiance everywhere he went.
When he shone his light on you, you felt like you were the most important person in the room.
The problem is that bright light has a way of blinding people.
I knew he was a flirt; actors often are.
But for some reason, I thought I could change him.
That once he settled down with me, I’d stay the center of his universe.
I should have realized I would never be enough.
That he’d have a compulsive need for attention and validation that could only be found in other women’s beds.
But Jesse isn’t like Rocky. He feels no need to be cast as the leading man. He’s more like the quiet extra in the background, just waiting for his scene-stealing moment. My heart is telling me that Jesse is different from Rocky, that I can trust him. Then again, my heart has been wrong before.
Pooja sets down her fork and picks up her phone. A small wrinkle forms between her brows as she scrolls.
“Speaking of your ex-husband, I take it you haven’t seen any tabloid photos from R the photographers have graciously honored our request to blur it.
On the one hand, I’m always thrilled when they respect our wishes for the kids’ privacy.
On the other, I’m desperate to see them.
“Rayna doesn’t look happy,” Pooja muses. “Her smile looks … strained, I guess.”
I shrug. “I’m sure she isn’t used to wrangling children for sunscreen application.
WWE training couldn’t prepare you for that.
But she’ll have to get used to it if she’s going to be a stepmom.
” I did notice that she’s not in any photos with my kids, and only one with Rocky.
But based on what I know about her, she’s probably dedicating a good chunk of the trip to her grueling workout routine and microdosing of bee venom.
I scroll back up to a solo shot of Rayna. She’s dressed in a white string bikini that shows off every inch of her perfectly toned body.
“She really is gorgeous,” I admit.
Pooja tsks. “Sure. With enough money and cryotherapy, anyone can be a showstopper.”
She takes the phone from my hand and slips it back into her purse.
“Listen to me. Is Rayna hot? Of course. But you know who else is hot? Marissa Morganstern. You’re gorgeous, and you’re smart, and you’re talented. And I know it’s scary, but I am so proud of you. You’re becoming the star of your own life again. And if I may say so, it’s about damn time.”