Page 92 of In Love with Lewis Prescott
“See, I think that your sorry-ass condition has everything to do with your Half Moon Bay lady.”
I used to chuckle in amusement every time Katie did this to whatever jerk she was telling off. I normally love how she ignores every attempt at changing the subject and simply plows through with her questions. She’s like a police interrogator in the body of a makeup artist. Now that I’m on the receiving end of her pressing questions, though, I kind of hate it.
“Obviously something went down between you two, and it wasn’t pretty.”
My lips quiver even as I bite down to prevent the flow of tears. But it’s no use. They plummet down my bearded cheeks anyway.
“Lewis.” Katie’s soft tone catches me off guard. I finally look up at her, her face a blur. All I can make out is the bright pink hue of her hair. “I’m your friend. I can see you’re hurting. Talk to me.”
I force myself to sit up and tell her everything. How I randomly met Harper and decided to hide out at her house because she was kind and trustworthy. I tell Katie how I fell for her and how when things were winding down with the renovation, we confessed our feelings for each other and decided to give a relationship a shot, that we had even scheduled visits to see each other. I tell her about meeting Harper’s family and trusting them enough to tell them who I was. I tell her about the photos that Harper’s aunt shared on Facebook from her cousin’s wedding, outing me to the paparazzi. I tell her how ambushed and panicked I felt, how I lashed out at Harper, how I blamed her even though I knew deep down it wasn’t her fault. I tell her how it reminded me of my family betraying my trust. I tell her how it led to me abruptly ending things between us. I tell her how it took less than a day of being back in LA for me to realize what a mistake I made—that I wanted Harper back in my life again. I tell her how when I tried to call her to beg for another chance, it was too late. She had blocked me, and I had no idea how to get in touch with her. I tell her how broken I’ve felt ever since then, because I ruined the best thing that’s ever happened to me.
Katie’s blue eyes go wider and wider as I reveal each detail. When I finish, her stony expression softens.
“Jesus, Lewis.”
The noise I make is something between a scoff and a disgusted laugh. “I don’t know what to do, Katie. Harper is the most brilliant, beautiful, badass person I’ve ever been with. I’m so in love with her. She actually believed in me, you know? She helped me realize I’m good enough to pursue projects I’m passionate about instead of the pretty boy/bad boy roles everyone else—even my own agent—tells me I should stick to. And it...it meant everything. She saw me for who I really am. She let me be myself without any pressure or expectation—and she actually liked that about me. And the way she treated me, the way that she welcomed me into her life...she made me feel like family...” I drift off when my voice starts to break, then quickly clear my throat. “I let my past fuck up my future with her. I can’t believe I did that.”
“I can.”
I fall forward and rest my elbows on my knees, then cover my face with my hands. Katie puts a hand on my shoulder.
“Look, I’m not a therapist, but I’ve been through enough therapy to know that what likely happened is that you were triggered by what her aunt did. You trusted her family to keep quiet about your situation, and when they accidentally outed your hideout, it felt like your trust was broken again. Even though it wasn’t intentional and even though you knew it wasn’t Harper’s fault, you blamed her because it brought you back to how your parents betrayed you. So you reacted the only way you knew how—you left and cut ties.”
I nod, wiping my nose with my wrist.
“And I know this is gonna sound harsh but, Lewis, you’re a famous actor. People are gonna be violating your privacy for as long as you work in this industry. It’s messed up, but it’s the truth. At least Harper and her family didn’t try to gain anything from posting the photos. And if her family is as good-hearted as you say they are, then I think they’d do whatever it takes to apologize and respect your feelings going forward.”
My head hangs as I nod my agreement. I should have realized all this sooner.
“Harper sounds like a goddamn diamond in the rough. You should try to make things right with her.”
“I want to, but she blocked me.”
“You can’t blame her for blocking you.”
“I don’t. She has every right to hate me. I just wish I could tell her I’m sorry. Even if she never wants to be with me, even if she never wants to see my face again, I owe her an apology.”
“Then figure it out.”
I almost laugh at her pointed tone.
“I mean it. There’s gotta be some way you can get in touch with her.”
I start to stammer an excuse, but she holds up a hand. “You’ve been a drunken, hungover mess for almost two weeks. You weren’t in the best state of mind.”
“That’s putting it kindly,” I mutter.
“Now you are. Quit all this destructive, self-loathing behavior, clear your head, and figure out a way to reach out to her. She sounds like a truly genuine and honest person who has your best interests at heart, in addition to driving you wild in the best way.” Katie wags an eyebrow. “That’s a jackpot combination. You gotta at least try and make it right with her.”
My foggy-headedness dissipates with Katie’s no-nonsense advice. Even my headache is starting to fade.
“I’ll figure this out.”
She pats my knee and stands up. “Good. First things first, though—you gotta take a shower. You smell like a dumpster.”
I let out my first genuine chuckle in almost two weeks.
I start to walk toward the master bathroom when Katie stops me.
