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“Number six.”
“Liam, I’ve read the biography by Calista Jones and am wondering how it feels to have your lover’s personal diaries made public?”
“Fuck this shit,” I mumble under my breath. “Do you really want to know?”
All the reporters nod. Assholes.
“Anything you read from Sam Moreno should be taken with a grain of salt. She was mentally unstable and in need of psychiatric care. We took her and Moreno Entertainment to court for a restraining order, which Mr. Moreno is hell bent on breaking... repeatedly. This Calista Jones wrote a book without my authorization and if I could sue the shit out of her I would. Are you out there, Calista?”
To my surprise a woman stands up. “I am.”
“Perfect, do you have any other intrusive questions for me or are we done here?”
“I actually have one.” It’s Mr. Moreno who steps forward. “You just made a comment about my daughter, one that I find very offensive, to say the least. Are you honestly going to say that you weren’t in love with her?”
I slam my hands down on the table and stand up. “Never have I said I was in love with Sam. I don’t give a shit what she put in her diary. Even this long after her death, I’m still finding out about all of the dishonest things she’s done or said. She lied about being pregnant and she kept my son away from me, or was that you? Your daughter was sick, and when she didn’t get her way, she wreaked havoc on anyone in her path. If I was so in love with your daughter, I wouldn’t have tattooed another woman’s name across my chest for her to see every day.”
I pause and rest on my hands, catching my breath before looking back at the reporters. “I don’t think you understand the damage you can do to someone’s life. You take your fucking pictures and make up your shitty headlines just to cause problems. You use computer programs to manipulate images into something they’re not, and laugh your asses to the banks while lives and marriages are destroyed. You want to write that I’m a pig because I hugged a fucking friend who I hadn’t seen in ten years, and that I’m cheating on my wife… look in the fucking mirrors and ask yourself if you’re a decent human being. I’m here to tell you, you’re not.
“Do you want to know why we left LA? So we could raise our kids without the likes of you assholes looming around us. I’m so fucking done.”
I walk away and can hear footsteps behind me. As soon as I’m in the green room the lamp closest to the door is flying across the room, shattering into a million pieces. The door shuts, and when I look behind me it’s Harrison and JD.
“I’m sorry,” I say, ru
“You were right to get up and leave,” Harrison says, as he sits down.
I shake my head and sigh. “I shouldn’t have said that shit about Sam, even if it is true.”
“She brings out the worst in ya, mate.”
“The thing is, she wasn’t always like that. I did that to her. All she wanted to do was love me and make me this big star, but I was so fucking hung up on my mistakes and my past that I refused to let her in. When I did, it was for sex because she was easy. I knew she wanted me and I led her on repeatedly.”
A knock on the door stops me from speaking. JD answers it, and Calista Jones is standing on the other side.
“Sorry darlin’, I’m pretty sure that anything you have to say is going to result in a no comment from us. Move along, now.” JD tries to shut the door but her hand stops it.
“I think you should listen to what I have to say.”
“Alright, we’re all ears. Say your peace, then be on your way,” JD instructs.
“I’d like to speak privately with Liam.”
“Nice try, but that ain’t go
“Fine,” she says, straightening her suit jacket. “Mr. Page, I’ve done nothing wrong. The diaries were sent to me, along with a list of people I should contact about you. Your threat to sue me has not fallen on deaf ears but I must warn you... if you do pursue legal action, I’ll publish Sam’s diaries in full and I don’t think you want that.”
“Are you threatening me?” I ask, as I step forward.
“No more than you are threatening me. Let’s call it an impasse, shall we?”
She turns on her heels and leaves, closing the door behind her. My mouth hangs open and while I’m tempted to call bullshit, I know she’s not bluffing. Who knows what the fuck Sam said in her diaries? One thing I know for certain is that I don’t want to have to defend myself for the rest of my life. I’ve already had enough.
I dial his phone repeatedly. It rings eight times before going to voicemail. He’s either not near it, or just doesn’t want to answer it. At least I can take comfort in knowing that he isn’t declining my calls. Before I give up, I leave him a message telling him that I love him and that we need to talk as soon as possible. I know he’ll be able to hear the distress in my voice, and pray that his love for me is just as strong as mine is for him so that no matter what’s going on, he’ll be honest with me.
Bianca and Noah are sitting in the family room when I come out. Noah’s going to suspect that something is going on and I’ll have to get creative with my answers to his probing questions when he asks them. The fact is, I won’t know what’s going on until Liam calls.
The sound of my voice echoes from the television, causing Noah to laugh. “What on earth are you watching?”
“Your DVD’s,” Bianca says, handing me a cup of tea. “Sit down, he’ll call soon.”
I sort of love that she has so much confidence in her son right now because mine is lacking. She grew up this way, with the media always in her face about things. I can’t imagine what her parents’ divorce was like for her, knowing how things get twisted in the media.
“Thank you.” I hold up the mug, and she smiles before turning her attention back to the television. I sit down in the chair and watch Liam run across the screen. The a
“That’s going to be me someday,” Noah tells Bianca as he fast forwards through the other team’s offensive run. “I wear number eight just like my dad.”
“Why did you choose that number?” she asks him.
Noah shrugs. “I don’t know. I’ve always liked it.”
Bianca beams at Noah and turns her attention back to the TV when he presses play. I’m on screen now, cheering for the team. Secretly, I was only cheering for Liam and Mason, but no one ever needs to know that.
“You were so pretty, Mom.”
“Gee thanks, Noah.”
“Your mom is beautiful, Noah. You should tell her so every day.” My mouth drops open at Bianca’s words. She doesn’t look at me as she speaks and, for that, I’m thankful. I turn my attention back to the TV and pretend the last few seconds never happened.
As soon as my phone starts ringing, I’m moving out of the room and upstairs to our bedroom. “Hello?”
“Hey, I got your message.”
His words give me pause. He sounds curt and disinterested.
“Are you busy?”
“Not at the moment,” he sighs, sending me into high alert.
“What’s wrong?” I ask, knowing something is bothering him.
“Same ole shit, just a different day.”
“Right.” I close the door to our room and sit down on our bed. This room is too big for one person and feels so empty without Liam here. I’m starting to hate it.
“Um…” I clear my throat. “Why do you want a divorce?” My voice is barely above a whisper and tears are streaming down my face as I ask the question.