She dropped her head into her hands.

“I’m scared, Simon. What if it all falls apart? What if I fall apart?”

Simon put his hand on her shoulder.

“Then you’ll put yourself back together again. You’ve done it before, you can do it again. If you don’t want him—if you really don’t want him—ignore me. But I don’t want you to let this go because of fear.”

She looked up at him.

“I know I can put myself back together. But I don’t want to have to do that again! I’m fine now. I’ll be fine without him.” She felt tears come to her eyes again and willed them away. “Why are you saying all of this—you didn’t even want me with Ben! You didn’t even like him.”

Simon stood up.

“I liked him fine. I didn’t want you with him because I thought he was going to hurt you. I want you to be happy, Anna. Obviously, yes, I want you to make both you and me a lot of money, but—don’t ever tell anyone I said this—your happiness matters even more. And the thing is . . . Ben made you happy.”

He walked to the door.

“I don’t want to push you on this; you need to do whatever you need to do here. Either way, I’m here for you. Just tell me if you need me to leak your breakup to whatever magazine and I’ll do it. No judgments. Ever, you know that, right?”

She stood up and hugged him.

“I know. Thank you for that.”

He turned around, his hand on the doorknob.

“I saw the way you looked at him, too.”

She sat still in her office for a long time after Simon left. Then she took out her phone.

Do you think he meant it?

 

Penny didn’t ask what this was about. She didn’t have to.

Do you?

 

Anna didn’t answer. Then, Penny texted her again.

Do you hope he meant it?

 

Anna put her head down on her desk and didn’t respond for a long time. Then she texted back one word.

Yes.

Twenty -Three

It was Monday morning, and Ben was getting ready for work. Running late, getting ready for work. At first, he didn’t even hear the knock at his door.

Had he ordered something? He’d ordered new sneakers the other day, but they weren’t supposed to be here until tomorrow. Was one of his neighbors mad at him for playing music late at night? He couldn’t help it, he was depressed, okay?

He tried to put a friendly expression on his face as he opened the door.

“Hi,” Anna said. “Your neighbor let me in. Can I come in?”

He took a step backward, not really to answer her, but because he was so confused she was here. Was this another one of those dreams? What was going on?

She walked through the door and stopped in the middle of his kitchen.

“Hi,” he finally said. “Um, are you . . . is something wrong with your dad?”

That was the only reason he could think of for why she’d be here.

She shook her head.

“No, he’s fine. I just . . . I had to ask you something.”

Oh God. Did she want him to keep doing it? To keep pretending to be her boyfriend, because she had some other event or the studio wanted more proof that she had fans or some other stupid reason? He couldn’t do it.

“What do you need?”

He crossed the kitchen and picked up his coffee mug and poured more coffee into it, just to give himself something to do, so he wouldn’t look at her. He didn’t offer her any. He had a feeling she wouldn’t be staying long.

“Why did you say that?” she asked. “What you said. That night. Did you mean it?”

He set his mug down, so hard that coffee sloshed over the sides of the rim. This was what she’d come for?

“What the fuck do you think, Anna? Why do you think I said it? Do you think I make a practice of saying things like that to women? Of telling women that I’ve fallen in love with them, just to give them the fun of being able to reject me afterward? Did I not flatter you enough when I said it, is that the problem? Did you want me to tell you how beautiful you are, how talented you are, how lucky I felt when I was with you? Well, fuck that, I’m not going to say any of it. Yes, I meant it. Yes, I fell in love with you, but it wasn’t for any of those reasons, even though they’re all true. It was because I understood you, and you understood me. It was because I was so happy, every moment that I was with you. It was because you’re funny, and smart, and thoughtful. It was because you called me on my bullshit, but I didn’t want to run away. It was because after you forced me to be honest with you, I realized that I couldn’t lie to you about anything, ever again. So yes, I meant it. Is that enough for you now? Did that give you what you came here for? Did you ask because you want to know if I can keep up with this charade? If so, no, I’m not going to participate in whatever scheme you and Simon have come up with this time. I’m out. If that’s all, I’m running late for work. If you’ll excuse me.”

He opened his apartment door.

She didn’t move.

“I guess I deserved that,” she said. She wiped her eyes. He tried not to feel bad about making her cry.

“I didn’t want this, Ben,” she said. “I wanted a fun little fling with you, one that would bring me back to how I used to be. I wanted you to help me get press and good publicity and convince that studio I should get that role. And that’s all I wanted from you. But from the beginning, you wouldn’t let that happen. Everything with you felt too close, too intimate. It scared me. I didn’t want you to get that close to me, at least I thought I didn’t.”

He closed his apartment door. He stood there, his back to the door, waiting to see what she would say next.

“I wanted to be back to the old Anna. I wanted accolades about my performances and magazine covers and I wanted that Varon movie. I wanted my agent and my manager to get calls about me every day, and I wanted to get my pick of what to do next. And I’ve gotten all of that, Ben, I’ve gotten everything I’ve ever dreamed of. But none of it matters without you.”

He was frozen to this spot, right by his door. Was she really saying this? Did she really mean this?

“I hope—my God, I hope—that you can forgive me for how long it took for me to realize this, but I’ve fallen in love with you. I love you. I’m in love with you. And”—she took a step toward him and smiled tentatively—“it’s not because of how hot you are, or how good you are at your job, or how good you were at being my fake boyfriend. It’s because of how kind you are, how big your heart is, how much love you give to the world, how happy I always was whenever I was around you. Even now, right this minute, when you are standing there staring at me, and I don’t know what you’re thinking, and I don’t know what you’re going to say, and I’m so scared it’s not going to be what I want you to say, I’m just happy, being here, with you.”