Page 69 of When You Were Mine

“Itwason my shoulders. You probably didn’t notice, but I only had a few scenes in the fifth movie. That’s because I quit. The film flopped, the franchise was going to end, and that meant the cast and crew would be out of work. The townspeople would lose their livelihoods. They begged me to come back. Pleaded with me.”

And then, the memory flared to life. “The list.”

“What?”

“Nothing.” Right before walking out the door, he’d shown her the list they’d put together in the diner. He’d said it was his motivation. He carried the weight of the world on his shoulders.

He always had.

“I know I sound full of myself. I know it sounds ridiculous, but the fact remained, they would’ve ended the franchise if I’d left.”

“It doesn’t sound ridiculous at all.” He just didn’t know how charming and open and friendly and appealing he was.

Of course he didn’t. Because his parents were stingy with praise. With love. He wasn’t allowed to be handsome or smart or anything frivolous. He had to be dutiful. His only value was helping. Fixing. Working.

She was beginning to understand him so much better. “What made you finally pull the plug?”

“My son. I saw the way he stepped up to take care of two little girls he didn’t father, and I knew he was a better man than I could ever be. Of course, I couldn’t just quit, so I suggested they do a next generation. I agreed to do small bits in the next two films, but other than that, I’m free.”

So, this is why he’s marrying a woman he met after knowing her for a month.“So, your parents dictated the first half of your life, and the filmmakers dictated the second?”

“Yeah, exactly. And that’s done. The rest of my time on this earth is going to be about me doing what I want.”

“Which is marrying Darby.” She threw it out like an accusation.

“No.No.”

“Dammit, Trevor. Are you marrying her or not?”

“I got engaged two days ago.”

“There you go again. Skirting around the truth. You want to clear the air on what happened in our past, but I can’t do that when you’re hiding something about your future.”

“I understand that. I do.” He lowered his gaze to the floor, one hand rubbing his jaw. Then, it swung back up, and he looked right into her eyes. “But for tonight, I’m asking you a favor. Can we just be two friends from Riverton who happened to meet in Iceland? I want to talk to you, catch up.”

“I honestly don’t know if I can do that.”

Cupping her elbows, he bent his knees so she was eye level. “But will you try? Please? I have an Elzy-shaped hole in my heart, and I need to heal it. I need this. Don’t you?”

Of course she did.

She wasn’t even going to pretend otherwise.

The gastropub was packed and buzzing with conversation. A Christmas tree in the corner twinkled with multi-colored lights, and the servers wore red aprons and Santa hats.

They’d ordered six tasting dishes to share, and they’d been talking so much, they’d hardly eaten.

Jess reached for her wine glass and sipped the crisp Chardonnay. “You know what I can’t figure out?”

“What?” He dipped the focaccia into the smoked bell pepper tartare.

“You hated reading in high school. How did you memorize whole scripts?”

“I didn’t need to. Oh, come on. You know I didn’t act. I shouted as I led soldiers into battle. I yelled a lot. You know what was required of me.”

“You don’t give yourself enough credit.” It dawned on her that his success was the antithesis of his family’s values. Because it put him in the spotlight. It enriched him—and only him. “Come on, I saw you angry, wounded, sad… You did a beautiful job. You even cried when your wife died.”

“When all five of them died.” He gave a wry smile. “We really needed new writers. They kept pulling the same emotional strings in every script.”