Love Unscripted

any longer; this film was a multi-million dollar investment just to shoot. He had already been away for three days.

It felt like another whole section of my heart was torn away when he left. It didn’t matter that he called me every few hours.

Ryan’s mom insisted on taking care of me for a few days and Marie was in and out of the apartment twenty times a day as well. I was wondering

when they both would get sick of watching me cry. My doctor finally prescribed antidepressants to help me cope.

Everyone in our i

informed of the same. The media had a field day when the news broke. Speculation of my pregnancy stemmed from the fact that my room was in

the neo-natal wing of the hospital, but then was confirmed by some hospital informants who wished to remain anonymous. Those informants

conveniently included the fact that I had lost the baby I was carrying…Ryan Christensen’s illegitimate child.

Ryan’s Publicist released a statement that stated I was hit by a car while crossing the street and that no one was at fault for the accident. Every

branch of the media also ended that same story with a blurb that his reps neither confirm nor deny the pregnancy rumors.

Marla even made a special phone call to remind me to keep my mouth shut. Well, she didn’t exactly say those words but that was the message

she delivered. I was tempted to tell her where she could shove her “public image management.”

My employees were also given gag orders and were reminded not to speak publicly to anyone about anything.

It was soon after that when Ryan and I had our first major fight over the phone, and his mom was sitting in the same room with me when it

happened.

“What the hell did you say to Marla?” Ryan barked in my ear. “She informed me that she will no longer be speaking directly to you.”

“Marla can go to Hell,” I replied. “She’s worthless in my book.”

“Taryn! She’s my Publicist! I’ve had her for years now.”

I huffed. “Ryan! She’s so damn worried that I might speak to anyone about my accident but yet she keeps allowing all those rumors about you

having an affair with Lauren going? Oh, and what about the reports of you calling Suza

squelch those lies either so I let her know how I felt.”

“What is she supposed to do?” he raised his voice to me again.

“She should do her damn job! She’s supposed to protect your reputation, right? And now she also represents me?”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about. She can’t stop what’s printed,” he snapped back.

“Like hell she can’t! It took her no time at all to put out a public statement pretty much shading over the fact that I’m an imbecile who crossed a

street without looking both ways, but she doesn’t have anything to say about your supposed affairs? How about a big freaking public statement that

says Ryan Christensen is not sleeping with Lauren Delaney or Suza

“She won’t do that,” he said flatly. “And don’t you dare ask her to do that either.”

“Why?” The tears from his betrayal came to my eyes.

“Because controversy is what’s going to sell tickets.”

I scoffed. “I can’t believe this! My life, my reputation, they are all up for grabs, but Heaven forbid that we mess with ticket sales!”

“Taryn, just stop.”

“No! Screw that. I’m sitting here – banged up – broken – our first child is gone and I have to swallow it all because of ticket sales. You know

what Ryan? Fuck you!” I snapped my phone shut.

His mother’s mouth dropped open but I didn’t care anymore. He just informed me where I rated on his priority list.

Two minutes later he called back. I hung up on him and then turned my cell phone off. The tears were pouring out of my eyes. The pain in my

stomach from my ribs being bruised was no longer stifled by Percocet. I pulled a pillow over top of my ice pack and wept uncontrollably.

“Taryn, Honey.” His mother tried to console me. “Don’t get yourself so upset.”

Her cell phone rang.

“I’m not talking to him right now!” I sputtered through my tears.

“Ryan, you shouldn’t get Taryn upset like this! She needs to heal!” She moved her conversation to my kitchen, but I could still hear her.

“Son, she lost a baby! You need to be more understanding. She’s in the living room crying her eyes out. She doesn’t need this stress right now.

I know Honey – you don’t either.”

Ellen came back into the living room and held out her phone. “He wants to talk to you.”

“Tell him to ask Marla what I should say.” I wiped my eyes with my shirtsleeve.

“Taryn!” She used that stern mother tone with me. That was all I could take.

I grabbed the end of the couch with my unbroken arm and slid my body to the edge so I could stand up. “Ow,” I cried out, hunching from the pain

that rocketed through my body.

“Just stay sitting,” she reprimanded me.

“No, I need to stand up,” I grit through my teeth.

She tried to brace me but there wasn’t a spot on my body that wasn’t bruised or busted. I managed to get my legs underneath me and I slowly

straightened up. Ellen held out her phone with Ryan still holding. I took it from her hand.

“You know, when I was lying in the street, I was so relieved when the paramedics strapped me to that board and finally put me in the ambulance.

It meant that I was no longer on display for the paparazzi to take my picture over and over again while I lay there bleeding. Then when the paramedic

cut every piece of clothing off my body and I felt like I was being raped, I thought that that was the worst moment of my life.

“Then when the doctor told us that our child died inside me, I thought that was the worst moment of my life. But to hear that my life has to

continue in a circle of lies and pain so that people go to see your movies, it just makes it all worthwhile. Thank you for that.” I snapped her phone

shut and handed it back to her. I locked my bedroom door behind me.

A few hours later Ellen gently knocked on my door. “Taryn, Honey? Are you hungry?”

“No thank you.” I had gone through an entire box of tissues from crying. I knew she had talked to Ryan about five times. Her phone rang every

twenty minutes.

“Come on sweetheart, you have to eat something. You haven’t eaten all day.”

I didn’t care; I wasn’t hungry so I ignored her.

Ten minutes later there was another knock on my door. This knock was louder.

“Taryn, it’s Marie. Open up.”

I had to give Ryan’s mom credit; she was resourceful.

“I’m okay, Marie. Just leave me alone.” I didn’t want to talk to anyone. I wanted to wallow in my own misery.

“Hey Pete, it’s Marie. I need you to come over to Taryn’s and take her bedroom door down. She locked herself in. Just bring a drill and saw so

we can cut the doorknob off. What? I should just kick it in with my foot?”

Marie smiled at me when I opened the door. She only pretended to call Pete. “That’s what’s going to happen if you ever lock yourself in here

again,” she informed.

I heard Ellen talking on her phone, obviously to Ryan. She scurried for the living room when I came out of my room. She was giving Ryan a playby-

play account of my actions. He called his mom several times that night, but I refused to talk to him each time. I was so hurt that no apology could

fix it. The next afternoon, flowers showed up. Three dozen long stemmed red roses accompanied by an “I love you - I’m so sorry” note. I left them in

the box to rot. Like roses would make everything better somehow – perhaps give me a rosy outlook? Yeah right! So much for a happy Valentine’s