“I see. So do you still have feelings for her? Wait, that’s none of my business. Thank you for coming over tonight. I had a lot of fun and—”
He pulled me into his arms and kissed me gently. “No, Selena. I don’t have feelings for her anymore. Anything else you want to ask me? We don’t have to play confession games for you to ask me questions.”
“No…Not right now, I—”
“I’m glad it didn’t work out,” he kissed me again. “I might’ve never found out what Confession Uno was.”
I wriggled out of his embrace and put the Connect Four box away. When I came back into the room, he was putting on his jacket.
“You’re leaving?”
“Yeah. I have to get up early,” he hugged me. “And you do too, right?”
“Oh yeah…I forgot.”
My mom had cut all of her waitresses’ hours in half—even the waitresses who had worked there since the shop first opened: Autumn Wonder had begun selling their pies at half the price of hers and the customers were talking. Since I was “free labor,” she needed me to open the store all week.
“You can’t stay one more hour?” I frowned. “Just one?”
“Okay, just one…” he let me go and sat on the couch.
I sat next to him and turned on the TV. As luck would have it, the TV was set on an after-hours celebrity show and my picture was onscreen.
“And in Hollywood Harlot news,” the red-haired host paused and the audience laughed. “Selena Ross was recently dropped from Macy’s holiday campaign for being a whore! She was also replaced in the highly anticipated Sweet Tennessee film. Why, you ask? The director was already involved in one affair and didn’t want to deal with another one!”
The audience laughed again and I felt tears welling in my eyes.
“I mean seriously, with all the money she has why wouldn’t she just pay someone to sleep with her in private if she was that desperate and lonely? Did she really have to go after a married man and flaunt it in public?”
A picture of Phillip and I hugging at a private park appeared onscreen.
“Oh and get this, audience! I read somewhere that her life-long dream is to win every award on the planet, so not to worry Selena—if you happen to be watching tonight, you definitely have my vote for ‘Ho of the Year’!”
The camera panned to the audience members who were now clapping and laughing hysterically.
A new picture of me appeared onscreen. It was a black and white portfolio shot and the word “SLUT” was scrawled across it in ugly red handwriting.
The host went on, “We’ve had some pretty interesting nicknames for Selena Ross over the past few weeks, but my favorite one is—”
Ethan unplugged the TV. I didn’t even realize he’d gotten up.
I didn’t try to hide my tears. I didn’t care if he saw me. I couldn’t hold my pain inside anymore.
I’d received a few negative reviews for my work before—all of which I ignored and chalked up to “miserable people who just wanted to put me down,” but hearing people talk so harshly about my personal life—about an “affair” that wasn’t even true, was something I’d never experienced.
I was used to manipulating the press with positive stories, stories that showed me in a good light, but this scandal stuff was something I couldn’t control, something that grew uglier and uglier every day.
I honestly thought I would be able to brush it off eventually, to act like people’s opinions didn’t hurt, but I couldn’t. Each mean word cut deeply, each hateful sentence seared me to the core.
I felt Ethan’s arms folding around me as he pulled a blanket over us. I heard him say that things were going to be alright, that I shouldn’t let negative people affect me, and that he would stay with me until I was okay.
I felt him brushing away my tears with the sleeves of his jacket, squeezing my hand to remind me that he was there.
I tried to stop myself from crying, but my chest kept heaving and the sobs kept coming.
In that moment, I finally realized that I could’ve prevented this scandal from ever happening: I should have known better. I should’ve left Phillip alone until his “divorce” was finalized and I should have picked up on all the red flags he’d thrown—all those private dinners and private dates weren’t for my sake. They were for his.
When I was finally all cried out, I looked at the clock on the wall and realized it was two in the morning.
“I’ll be okay Ethan,” I untangled myself from his embrace and stood up. “I’m sorry I kept you for over an hour…You can go home now.”
He took off his jacket and bent over to take off his shoes. He motioned for me sit in his lap and wrapped his arms around me again.
“I’ll stay until you’re really better,” he kissed my cheek. “Don’t think about anything, just try to sleep.”
“Okay…But only after you ask me a question.”
He shook his head and laughed softly. “Are you dating anyone else right now?”
“No…Are you?”
“No.”
“Okay,” I rested my head against his chest and tried to think of a question for him, but everything went black.
My mom walked around my suite, fiddling with my newest set of flower bouquets, touching each and every petal.
“So he sends you flowers every day?” she plucked a rose from its stem.