Page 59 of Breathing Wisteria
My shoulders ache, they’re so tight with tension. I should be enjoying the sight of my girl. Dripping in diamonds and in a dress that shows off every damn one of her curves, she’s almost as beautiful as when she first wakes up in the morning. But I’ve been fucking dreading this night since we made the decision to come three days ago and I’m still not convinced it was the right choice.
Movie premieres are the stuff of my nightmares to begin with. Add in that we’re still in the midst of a publicity storm and it all just creates one solid night clusterfuck.
The red carpet was probing question after none-of-your-fucking-business question. Then we had to watch some shitacular movie and now we’re in the middle of aTemerity Pressparty where we’re being watched by about twenty bottom-feeding photographers and being whispered about by Hollywood’s elite.
A fun night all around, you might say.
But Campbell insists that this is what we need. To see and be seen as they say, so we’re trusting his judgment and hoping this isn’t the first time he fucks everything up.
I follow Wyatt as she leads us into the center of the room. Our hands entwined, she weaves us through the clustered groups, ignoring the sidelong glances and hushed whispers that are somehow all I can see and hear.
We’re almost across the room when we hear it. A voice rings out above the others and I watch as Wyatt flinches, her shoulders hunching and an air of defeat blanketing her.
“She’s going to burn in hell for what she did.”
She turns to face me, and I swear to God, it’s as though she is moving in slow motion. I know what’s about to happen before her eyes even meet mine and I have no fucking way to stop it.
“I can’t do this, I’m so sorry.” The tears that cling to her lashes are my undoing and I hate myself so fucking much for putting her in this situation. “I tried, Flynn, I really tried, but it’s too much.”
I see the cameras start flashing in my peripheral vision and all I can focus on is how much she’s going to hate seeing this image everywhere tomorrow. Her broken, breaking me.
The whispered murmurs grow louder as the crowd realizes what is going on. The train wreck they’re getting to witness firsthand.
I grab Wyatt’s arm, determined to end this. To tell her she doesn’t need to do this, but she wrenches free.
“You were right. With you, I’ll never be free of the past. There will always be a reminder. Some article or rumor.” Tears are sliding freely down her cheeks now and I have to use all of my restraint not to reach out and touch her. “I can’t do it.” She pauses before shaking her head emphatically.
“Iwon’tdo it.”
