But she didn’t think it would.

“Thank you for saying that. I think I already knew. But yeah, I haven’t been public about any of this for a reason. I’ve seen the way the press—and the studios—treat women like me who are public about this stuff, and it sucks. How they get called crazy, how everything they do or say or wear or eat turns into evidence that they’re unstable or losing it or something else like that. I don’t want any of that to happen to me.”

He held tight to her hand. She was really glad to be with him right now.

“I don’t want any of that to happen to you, either,” he said. “You don’t have to answer this, but—you said you’re doing okay now. How did you get out of that dark place?”

Tears came to her eyes again.

“My dad. He and I . . . we had a different relationship when I was a kid. I was a hothead, and so was he, and because of his job he had all of these rules I was supposed to obey, and I never wanted to, and he always discouraged me from acting—unlike my mom, who told me to do whatever I wanted as long as I could support myself. But we got along better as we both got older. He somehow figured out that something was wrong with me. He told me he had a meeting in L.A. and so he was coming over to my place. I tried to pull myself together when he came over. But as soon as he walked in, he took one look at me and asked, so gently, what was wrong. And everything came spilling out.”

Even just thinking about that day was still so hard.

“So, when you knew something was wrong with him, you had to rush to him,” Ben said. “I understand.”

She brushed her tears away with the back of her hand.

“It was silly. I should have just . . .”

Ben touched his finger to her lips.

“No more of that, remember?”

She nodded.

“Okay, you’re right. But yes, what you said. He helped me find a therapist and a psychiatrist. I got on meds and started seeing someone twice a week at first. Those first few months were really hard.” She let out a breath. “Really, really hard. But now I’m doing so much better.” She wiped her eyes again.

She glanced over at him. She liked the way his eyes crinkled up when he was listening.

“Anyway. Sorry for all of this. I’m a little embarrassed now. Once I started talking, it was hard to stop. That’s probably way too much information.”

“No,” he said.

She looked over at him, but his eyes were on the road.

“No, what?”

“No, it’s not too much information. No, you have nothing to be embarrassed about.”

“Oh.” She took a deep breath. Tears came to her eyes again, but they were good ones this time. “Okay.”

“I just wanted you to know that,” he said.

She wiped her tears away.

“Okay, well, I guess I’ll say this, too—I think I told you part of this last night, but before last night I hadn’t slept with anyone since before all of that happened. I tried, early on, when I’d just started having anxiety attacks, but just being that close to someone made me anxious, and I was so paranoid, that this was all a trick, or that he’d put cameras somewhere, and so much other stuff. But last night . . . I didn’t worry about any of that. It was just so great, and fun, and it felt like . . . I don’t know, such a celebration. So I was crying just from relief, that I could have that joy again, that I feel so much better now, especially since there was a time when I thought I’d never be able to relax around another person again. Especially the kind of relaxation with no clothes on.” She grinned at him, and he grinned back. “So. That’s a very long way to explain . . . everything.”

* * *

—

Ben was quiet for a while. He didn’t know if Anna was okay with him asking her questions about everything she’d told him or not, but one question was at the forefront of his mind, and he figured there was no way he’d last the three-plus hours left in the drive without asking it.

“Thank you for telling me,” he said. “But can I ask—why did you tell me? Don’t get me wrong, I’m really glad you did. But . . .”

“But I don’t know you that well, so why did I trust you?” Anna finished. He nodded, and she thought for a while. “It’s because of how you responded. Last night, I mean. You could have pretended not to hear anything and just gone back to sleep, you could have just hugged me and not said anything. But not only did you soothe me and listen to me, but you said you’d leave if I wanted you to. I don’t even know why you asked that, but it made me feel so comfortable with you—like you’d do whatever it took to put me at ease.” She turned and looked straight at him. “Why did you ask me that?”

“Oh.” Now he felt embarrassed by the conclusions he’d jumped to. He was very glad he had to keep his eyes on the road.

“I thought . . . I wondered if you’d had a bad experience sometime. With um, sexual assault, something like that. I thought maybe I did something that made you remember something you didn’t want to, so I just wanted you to . . . I don’t know, feel safe.” He cleared his throat. “I’m glad you were crying for a happy reason and not that one.”

She turned her whole body toward him.

“That’s—” She stopped and swallowed. “That’s so kind of you, Ben. And I’m glad I was crying for a happy reason, too.”

He wished he could lean over and kiss her, but Highway 5 wasn’t the best place to do things like that.

Was he ever going to be able to kiss her again? Or—the dream—see her naked again? They hadn’t talked about it, but he’d assumed their fling was a purely Palm Springs kind of deal. Now that they were out of that hotel room, notwithstanding his hand on her knee and her hand on his arm, he was pretty sure that the whole relaxation with no clothes on between the two of them was a no-go.

Well, he supposed he’d have to be happy with the very excellent sex they’d had last night and this morning—the very excellent sex he’d had with Anna Gardiner!—and leave it there. Plus, they’d see each other on set on Monday; there couldn’t be any secret winks or lingering glances then—that was for damn sure.

“I’m glad you told me about all of that. Thank you.”

Why did he say thank you? Now he felt stupid for thanking her for that. But it had felt like a compliment, that she’d chosen to share all of that with him.

She put her hand on his. Her hands were so smooth, but firm.

“Thanks for not being weird about all of it. On one of the few dates I’ve been on since all of this happened, I mentioned my therapist in passing and the guy got so strange about it. I was like, my God, we’re in L.A., doesn’t everyone here have a therapist? Apparently not.”