All the Feels (Spoiler Alert #2)(56)

Minutes later, as a new crowd began to fill the hall, her phone buzzed. Slapping away the wetness on her cheeks, she read her incoming text.

It was from Alex.

Marcus ordered me to go to our suite and call everyone in my camp. Come on up, Wren. It’s a party! After a moment, another message appeared. I know you aren’t happy with what I did, and I’m sorry for that.

He was sorry for her unhappiness. Not for the damage he’d done to his career.

Then again, he had years ahead to mourn that. Decades. The rest of his life.

Her legs shook as she got to her feet and headed for the exit. She was going to her room, because nothing she could say, nothing she could do, would help Alex now. With one exception.

In the elevator, she texted him back. Promise me you’ll listen to what your team and Marcus say. Promise me you’ll do your best to salvage this situation.

He wrote back immediately. I promise. Unless they tell me to do something that’s wrong. In which case, I won’t budge.

It was a deliberate echo of what she’d said about her experiences at the hospital. The times she’d run afoul of her colleagues or patients or supervisors.

She sagged against the elevator wall, bereft.

Another buzz. Where are you, you intolerably plodding harpy?

She didn’t answer.

When she got to her room, she let the door slam shut behind her. Her phone buzzed several more times as she emptied the few drawers she’d filled with clothing and other odds and ends, but she ignored the peremptory summons.

Once she was completely packed again, she checked her inbox, just to confirm.

Ron’s email had arrived five minutes before.

I should have known you weren’t capable of doing such a simple job, he’d written. You’re fired, and we’re not fucking paying for your hotel room or the guesthouse anymore. Good riddance.

She could check out over the phone, so she did. Then she caught a cab to the airport and took the first flight back to L.A. A seat in coach, of course. She couldn’t afford more, and it was where she belonged.

By the time the small jet took flight, she’d texted Alex one last time—On the plane; I’m so sorry—and turned off her cell, because he needed to concentrate on salvaging his career, not on her, and his increasingly agitated messages hurt.

The bruises forming on her thighs, pressed into her flesh by the armrests, hurt less. Which was saying something.

She’d almost forgotten how it felt to squeeze into a space too cramped to contain her comfortably. She’d almost forgotten the specific pain of attempting to make herself as small as possible, contorting her arms and legs in a way that hurt her joints and made relaxation impossible. She’d almost forgotten the reality of her life.

In the end, despite all her attempts to be small, despite the discomfort of those attempts, she’d still have bruises. Pain following pain. It was unavoidable. Inevitable.

She’d accepted that for herself long ago.

But Alex hadn’t been willing to accept it for her.

He’d witnessed her pain, and destroyed himself to avenge it.

For that reason, and for that reason alone, she wished to God she’d never met him.

Gods of the Gates Cast Chat: Friday Night

Ian: I want Alex kicked off this cast chat



Ian: I fucking told you, and so did Bruno Keene: cast poison



Ian: Our future careers may depend on the success of Gates, and he just shit all over it because he thinks he’s too good for us, the ungrateful motherfucker



Carah: Oh, give me a fucking break, Ian



Carah: We all know everything Alex said (and wrote) is true



Carah: And yes, maybe making all those things public knowledge wasn’t the smartest decision he’s ever made, but I’ve never seen him THAT angry without damn good reason



Asha: I’ve worked closely with him for years now, and yes, this



Asha: And I’ve never seen even the slightest hint that he thinks he’s too good for us



Mackenzie: Whiskers is very upset and worried about what may happen to Alex



Marcus: I can’t share any specifics, but I can definitely tell you he had just cause to be very, very angry at Ron in particular



Carah: I knew it



Carah: We all knew it, except fucking Ian



Maria: As far as our careers depending on the success of Gates: our show has been a blockbuster for years now, and if you haven’t already capitalized on its popularity to help your career, that’s on you, Ian, not Alex



Peter: The final season of the show can’t make or break our careers, and Alex never said one word about our acting



Peter: Just about the scripts and Ron and R.J. as showrunners, and like Carah said: fair enough



Carah: FYI, everyone: I just put out an official statement saying that Alex is not only a good friend, but also a valued, talented colleague who has always behaved with impeccable professionalism on set, and I hope to act alongside him in many future projects



Carah: I didn’t even use profanity, because I too am a goddamn PROFESSIONAL



Ian: Another fucking traitor



Carah: I didn’t insult the show, I just defended my friend, so fuck you very much, Ian