Method(100)

“Can you please open the fucking door, so you can see my face and know I’m telling the truth?”

“That’s not going to make a difference. You conditioned me well.”

“Seriously?” he whispers, “that’s not what I did.”

“No? All those tests you put me through when we started out, all of the prep work you put into making me your perfect little Hollywood wife. You never planned any of that, man with the plan?”

“You’re really going to make me do this out here?”

“You’re not getting into this house, Lucas.”

He releases a heavy sigh.

“Fine. That kiss was about blood, the blood Nikki licked off her cheek. Wes asked me to do it specifically and only for that scene. He thought it would be more perverse if Anya were made to taste her brother’s blood off Nikki’s tongue. I agreed with him.”

Stunned at the explanation, I bristle where I stand.

“That’s actually a pretty damned good reason. And it would have changed everything if you’d have given it to me when I begged you for it. It might not have ended our marriage.”

More pause. “Stop it. You took everything personally. Everything. You didn’t trust me or the process. I understand you’re mad, but we aren’t over,” he says with an uplift in his tone that makes my stomach roll. “It’s one scene. I was going to tell you the minute I got here. I was coming clean about everything. Mila, I’m sorry—”

“You think that this is just about the kiss? You couldn’t be more wrong, and the fact that you are still trying to hide behind your character is disgusting. You broke EVERY rule, you left me nothing to believe in. Don’t you dare tell me that was acting!”

“That’s what I was doing!”

“That wasn’t acting, Lucas! You went too far, you’re still there. You don’t get to hide behind your job anymore. Every word coming out of your mouth is a lie, and I’m not listening to another. You need to leave. Right now!”

“You don’t mean that.”

“Yes, I do. And you know I do.”

“Dame—”

“Go to your wrap party, Hollywood.”

Irritation coats his voice. “I’m not going to a fucking party. I came to see my wife!”

“Fine, go see Amanda,” I snap.

Silence.

“Nothing to say? Lucas? Nikki? Blake?”

“You don’t understand, that…that just happened.”

“I don’t have to understand, I don’t want to understand. Save your explanations. I left you, I don’t want to be your wife. Not now. Maybe not ever again.”

His palm slaps the door. “Don’t you say that to me!”

“You took the meaning out of the ring!” I scream, letting my anger overtake me. “You broke my trust.” I pound back at him. “You think this is me locking you out? You’ve got it all wrong! This isn’t me, don’t blame me! I don’t want to have anything to do with this, with you. Not now. I’m too angry. Leave, Lucas!”

All of the energy drains from me as I relay the sentence, he himself dealt us. “There is no kiss and make it better. And you’re not going to act your way out of this. Just go.”

“Open up, Mila, I’m not going to fight through a door.”

“I wish I had the strength left to fight you, Lucas, but I don’t.” And with that, I walk away.

Ten minutes later, I hear his Land Rover start up. The next day he comes back drunk. And the day after, and the day after that, and every night after until Paul is forced to drag him away from my door.





Mila





PRESENT


Three weeks after I leave Lucas, I get another rap on my door, but I know with certainty it’s not my husband. He’s been silent the past week, aside from a daily ‘I love you’ text. Other than that, he’s been giving me the space I asked for.

“You don’t know what I had to do.”

Blake was a victim of the casting couch, that much is obvious. And he was right in one respect, I don’t need to know the details. Those were the secrets he died to hide.

A part of me hopes Lucas does come clean to Amanda, but it’s not my call. And maybe that’s some of what Lucas is still working through. But until he’s transparent with me, until he shows me his battle, we have nowhere to go. Even after six years of marriage, it baffles me how much he hides, how unaware I am of what goes on inside that brilliant mind of his.

Opening my door, I see my mother standing there and hang my head as she pushes past me and steps inside.

“How did you know I was here?”

“Because when you didn’t bother to text me back, I called your husband insisting he let me speak with you and do you know what he did?”

I shrug.

“He told me you didn’t live there anymore and hung up on me!”

Laughter bubbles out of me as her eyes narrow. “Sorry, Mom. No one is safe lately.”

“Do you mind telling me what the hell is going on? You haven’t returned my calls since he chased me out of your house.” She follows me into the living room, looking around before scrutinizing me.

“You moved back in?”