Page 64 of Don't Forget Me
“The copy from the drawer.” He pushed to his feet. “You took it.”
Scrambling after him, she had to make him see. “It’s amazing. The story, the characters, it’s all so real. Nick, look at me.”
He stopped moving but didn’t turn.
“Your brother was really talented.”
His postured stiffened. “I don’t need you to tell me that.” There was no anger in his voice, more like… a deep sadness.
The kind of feeling Elizabeth would never forget. “I’m sorry I broke your trust.” She was, more than anything. She wasn’t sorry to have read most of the beautiful screenplay, only that she’d done it behind his back.
“Sorry doesn’t take it back, does it? I don’t share Stephen with anyone, and I shared him with you.”
“I know.” She stepped forward, putting a hand on his back. He didn’t shrug her off, but he still didn’t turn. “But this script… Did I ever tell you my middle name was Ann?”
Slowly, torturously slowly, he turned, his dark eyes burning into her.
One corner of her mouth turned up. “I know it’s just a coincidence the main character’s name is Ann, but the other character is based on you. It feels like they’re us, like it’s our story.”
He studied her for a long moment. “My middle name is Maxwell.”
“Max,” she whispered. Ann and Max, the two characters who fall in love over and over again in the story.
“Have you read the ending yet?”
She shook her head. She hadn’t been able to bring herself to finish it.
He tore his eyes away. “When you do, you’ll hope it’s not our story.” He stepped around her. “Don’t break my trust again.”
When he walked away, leaving Liz on the deck that now seemed so lonely despite the company of millions of stars, she dropped back into her chair, knowing whatever ending the story had would break her.
Would the same be said of her own story?
23
NICK
Time slipped by at an inconceivable pace until being here at the lake house felt normal for Nick, like it was his real life. Yet, he couldn’t shake the feeling that every minute that passed, every second was one less they had.
There was no time for arguments, for wishing things were different, not anymore. This is what they got, and Nick wouldn’t feel guilty for being thankful Liz was here with him even when they argued.
When he rolled over in bed, only coldness greeted him. It shouldn’t have surprised him. Their fight the night before sat heavy in his mind.
He didn’t know how long it had been since first seeing Liz stumble toward him, and she’d never once mentioned the copy of Stephen’s manuscript she’d found or the fact she’d read the entire thing except for the very last scene.
She couldn’t bring herself to finish. He knew the feeling.
That surprise had turned into too much anger, reminding him of the guy who first came here, the one with nothing to go back to.
He didn’t want to be angry.
Not anymore.
Slipping from the bed, he retrieved a shirt from the back of the desk chair and pulled it over his head before running his hand through too-long hair. His beard was longer now, but he’d somehow managed to keep it controlled despite the little attention he paid to his hair.
Liz told him she liked it more than the clean-shaven face he was known for in most of his movies.
Movies… that seemed like an entirely different life, taking on different personas and never really being himself. These last months were the first time in years he’d tried letting out the man from behind the camera, being his true self.
