Page 8 of Vain
“So four loops are five miles?”
“According to my ring, yeah.” She holds up her index finger, where she’s wearing a simple rose-gold band.
I stare at it and frown. “Your ring tracks how many miles you run?”
She grins. “Yeah, pretty cool, right? It counts my steps for the day, measures my heart rate, and helps me track my sleep patterns.”
“So everything a smartwatch does, but in a ring?”
“The ring is a bit more limited. It doesn’t make calls or texts or anything like that. It’s more of a health thing, and it’s great for me as I don’t like wearing watches.” She looks away, her hand tugging down her sleeve.
“Whatever works, right?”
We head back into the now-empty kitchen. I sit on the same chair I was sitting in last night as she passes me a bottle of water.
“So, we need to head to the studio later?”
She drinks her own water down before nodding.
“Alright, anything I need to know beforehand?”
She picks at the label before looking up at me, indecision clear in her eyes. “This will be the first time I’ve been to the studio in a long time.”
“How long is a long time?”
She hesitates before her answer comes out in a whisper. “Almost two years.”
Chapter Four
MATILDA
I retreat to my room and take a long, cool shower. I take my time getting ready for the day, knowing that donning my clothes and makeup will be like slipping on armor, hoping they offer me some measure of protection against the world.
After washing my hair, I blow-dried it and set it in rollers while I did my makeup and got dressed, leaving me with lots of volume and waves. Spraying a little product to hold it in place, I take a deep breath and call it good while reminding myself I need to have a sit-down conversation with Aiden before we leave. He’s being pretty cool about things, but he can’t protect me without all the facts. I grip the counter and wonder if he’ll think I’m losing it like the police do.
Shaking my head, I smooth down the front of my blazer and take in my reflection. Wanting to look both professional and casual, I teamed a fitted white shirt with a pair of light gray boot-cut jeans and a charcoal-colored blazer. A tie of black pearls lies around my neck, adding a touch of sophisticated sparkle to the outfit. The black ballet pumps have a glitter effect that shimmerswhen they catch the light. Sure, I could have worn heels, but I’m already pushing myself out of my comfort zone for the day. I‘d rather not have to throw sore feet into the mix, too.
Walking back into the living area, I pick up the manuscript from the sofa and hold it to my chest. Ever since this script landed on my desk, I became obsessed with bringing it to life. Not as the leading star, as the director. I’d been dabbling in producing and co-directing the last few movies I made, but something held me back from making the leap. Part of me knew I was waiting for the perfect script. The other part, if I’m honest with myself, held back because I was scared. Failing when nobody knows about it is one thing, but failing in front of the whole world is another thing altogether. I’ve heard from a lot of people that this is the wrong move for me and that I should stick to what I know. Hell, my own mother told me God gave me this face to shine, not to hide. But I’m so done being nothing more than a vessel for people to fawn and fight over. After years of feeling empty inside, it’s time to start filling all the empty spaces with things I love, challenging myself to do things that scare me, and embracing the new reality and limitations I have for myself after the attack. I’m tired of being told I need to get back on the horse. What if I’m not interested in getting back on the horse, now or ever again?
Taking a deep breath, I pull my shoulders back and remind myself that I’m so much more than what the world thinks I am.
I shove the manuscript, my phone, and a few other essentials into my bag before heading to the door. I stare down at the knob, willing myself to unlock it. But it’s never that easy. With a frustrated sigh, I turn the handle, knowing it’s locked. When it doesn’t open, I try it again and again. Finally happy, I unlock it and repeat the process after I lock up. I never used to be quite so…particular. But since the attack, my need for certain things to be done in certain ways has become more extreme. My therapistsays it’s a form of taking back my power after having it stripped from me.
I grab the strap of my bag and remind myself how far I’ve come. When you haven’t quite reached your target, it’s easy to forget the journey you took to get this far. I’m hard on myself because I remember those first few days when all I wanted to do was give up. I remember rolling that bottle of pills backward and forward in the palm of my hand as they whispered to me promises of painless peace.
I don’t ever want to go back there. There have been times during my recovery that I felt myself slipping back into the darkness. But I held on by the skin of my teeth until, eventually, I started to feel stronger. And then I started to feel pissed. Once the pity party ended, the fuck you party began, where I wanted to prove all the naysayers wrong. I wanted to prove to him that he had no hold on me anymore. I was free, and he wasn’t.
And then I found the smiley face drawn on the Post-it note stuck to my door. That’s how it started last time. The little Post-it notes, the smiley faces, little innocuous things that started as nothing but eventually left a weird feeling in my stomach.
I shake it off and head to the sitting room, which I rarely use, when I hear voices. I stop in the doorway. Aiden and two members of the Cox Security team, Matt and Daniel, talk animatedly.
“Everything okay?” I ask, not moving any farther into the room.
Daniel walks toward me, and it takes everything in me not to take a step back. He stops a few feet in front of me before scowling at me, folding his arms over his chest. “I explained to Mr. Church here that you’ll need two of my team on you too if you’re leaving the property and a second team in a second vehicle.”
I look at Aiden, who is staying quiet, but his hands fist at his sides.
“Mr. Church is in charge of my safety, so I’d like to hear what he has to say on the matter. I appreciate your concerns, but rolling in with a large entourage like that will draw attention, which I am trying to avoid.”
