One Last Time(81)

I clutch my stomach and double over, needing this to stop.

Catherine grips my face, forcing me to look at her. “I know this is horrible. I know that you just want him to trust you. Believe me, I wish it were that simple, honey, but we can stop this if we can find out who is behind it. Noah doesn’t want to believe it’s you. He wants it to be anyone else. He’s not happy that you’re gone. He loves you, he told me, but he’s at a loss because everything points to you. Now, are you ready to find a way prove it wasn’t?” Her eyes are filled with determination.

I hold her wrists, take three deep breaths, and nod.

Even if Noah is gone, I need to exonerate myself. I did nothing wrong and whoever is behind this needs to feel even an ounce of the pain I’m in. So, yeah, I’m more than ready.





Chapter Thirty-Three





Noah





“Hello, Mr. Frazier.” The brunette flight attendant smiles. “Is there anything I can get you?”

Her hair is the same dark brown color as hers. She has a little more blonde in it, and I much prefer the red in Kristin’s.

My throat goes dry as I see her face, hair, body, and voice in every woman I see. None of them compare to her, and none of them have destroyed me the way she has.

“No, I’m fine.”

Her red lips turn into a seductive smile. “Okay, if you need anything, I’m happy to be of service. My name is Leighanne.”

I smile. “Thanks.” There’s no service I’ll need. All I want is to pass the fuck out and wake up in the future.

It didn’t take long for Tristan to get a plan together. He told me the article is down and that they are working on discrediting Kristin. I didn’t want to know the details. I can’t sit and watch them destroy her. Even though she broke my fucking heart, I hate that I’ll be the one doing the same. For all I know, they’ll paint her as a desperate ex with a vendetta or a broke single mother needing to make a name for herself.

She’s neither of those.

No matter what, I can’t turn off how I feel about her.

My phone pings again, and I go to turn it off, but her name flashes.

Opening it is stupid, but I’ve never claimed to be all that bright.

Kristin: I don’t know if you’ll read this. I don’t know if you care, but I want you to know that I love you with my whole heart. You’ve given me more in a few months than I got in my lifetime. I would never hurt you that way. You said you were leaving, and I’ll miss you more than you can ever understand. I’ll tell Aubrey that you asked me to care for her animals, and Finn that you hope to finish the marathon soon. No matter what you think of me, I will cherish every moment we had. I would give anything to see you just one last time, but I know you don’t want to see me. I swear that I’ll find out who did this.





I sit on the plane, rubbing my forehead as I read the text over and over. The same thoughts continue to circle, leaving me without any answers.

Has the campaign against her started?

Will she hate me and tell the kids that I’m the reason their mother is being attacked?

Will she suffer at my hands?

I picture Aubrey’s little blue eyes and big smile falling because my people are making her mother look like a gold digger. Finn will hate me, but not more than I’ll hate myself.

I text Tristan.

Me: Do not destroy Kristin. No matter what, I love her and I don’t want this. Find another way.





I power off the phone without waiting for a response.

I hate every part of this, but there’s no other explanation I can find. I spent all day going over any possibility as to how this wasn’t her, and I came up short. Even though in my heart, I don’t see how she could be so manipulative and go to such lengths to sell me on it, my head sees the facts. There’s no way to argue with them.

The plane takes off, and I leave behind the woman I love and the life we could’ve had.



“Noah! Let’s go!” The director bangs on my trailer door, and I groan.

My head is pounding, and I have the worst cottonmouth known to man. I’ve spent the last two days drunk as fuck, courtesy of the minibar in my hotel. It’s the only way shit doesn’t hurt so much. I’ve avoided people, sunlight, food, pretty much anything other than vodka.

How the hell I’m going to work today is beyond me. I can barely stand, never mind focus on my lines. I lean back in the chair and close my eyes. If I can just get the spinning to stop, I’ll be good.

The door creaks open. “Mr. Frazier?”

“What?” I bark.

God, I’m being such a prick. This isn’t me. I don’t get drunk, be late, or treat the crew like shit. I’m the guy who makes everyone laugh, look who’s laughing now.

“Sorry to bother you, but Paul is about to lose his mind,” the petite blonde informs me.

“You were called to the set thirty minutes ago, and I was told not to leave here without you.”

“Shit. Okay, give me two, and I’ll be ready.” It’s an effort to keep my tone even.

She nods and exits but probably doesn’t go very far. Time to get it together. I have a job to do, and no one here gives a damn that I’m emotionally spent. All they care about is the movie.