Authors: Emily Snow
When I shook my head, he continued,
“You had an abortion?” The last word
was spoken in a whisper.
I didn’t deny it, and I didn’t
acknowledge it, I just let out a thick sigh.
“When I told my mom and dad they
freaked out. I mean, I was sixteen and”—I
hugged my arms around my stomach, as
the memories hit me—“We went to this
little clinic in Washington and I’m lying
there getting an ultrasound, scared out of
my mind. The sonographer looks up at my
mom and says ‘Looks like you’re going to
have a baby in four months’.”
“Wills—”
“I’d hidden it from them for too long
to get the abortion, so my mom sent me to
live with her step-mother in Oregon until
he was born.”
Cooper sucked in a long, hard breath
through his teeth. “And you gave him up
for adoption?”
I nodded. “Tyler didn’t care. He was
more worried about being charged with
statutory rape than whether or not I was
okay. My parents and Kevin kept telling
me it was my choice—that they weren’t
making me do anything even though I knew
they were. So I signed him away when he
was born. I signed a closed adoption and
was too fucking stupid to realize that that
meant I’d never see him again.”
Cooper came close to me, trying to
draw me into him but I shoved him away,
staggering to my feet. Yanking my jeans
down around my hips, I turned to him.
When I pulled my tank top up, his electric
blue eyes narrowed.
And my heart broke. My whole body
was shaking but I didn’t make an effort to
straighten my clothes. There was no point.
“There you go. That’s why I won’t let you
fuck me with the lights on.”
He reached forward and grabbed my
hips hard, tugging me to him and burying
his damp head into my bare skin “Don’t
say it like that,” he said in a low growl.
“Why?”
“Because you’ve never just been a
fuck to me. I love you, Wills.”
And then I slid down on the floor with
him again, and I was crying into his bare
chest. “I found out tonight that I lost my
suit against the adoption agency and then I
just lost myself. All I wanted to do was
black out and forget. Forget myself and the
baby.”
“I’m so sorry, Wills,” he whispered
into my hair, and I sobbed harder. When
there was nothing left inside of me, I
dragged myself away from him, suddenly
aware of smelling like alcohol. I’ve
never been more ashamed of myself “I’m
a wreck,” I said.
“We’ll fix you.”
He kept saying that, and it left a bitter
pang in my chest each time. “How can you
talk about fixing me when you’ve got your
own issues?” I demanded, lifting bleary
eyes to look up at him.
He closed his eyes for a moment.
“When my mum died I realized that that
it’s possible to live without someone you
love.” When I asked him what he meant,
he wrapped me back in his arms. “I love
you, Willow, but I can live without you. I
just refuse to.”
We lay there on the floor for what
seemed like an eternity before Eric
tentatively knocked on the door saying that
Miller was downstairs and wouldn’t
budge until he knew that I was okay.
Drying away the tears with the backs of
my hand I started to get up but Cooper
held me back again.
“Stay,” he said. “I don’t care if you
messed up and got drunk with Jessica. I
just need you with me.”
I nodded, gently pulling my hand from
his as I stood. Eric had an awkward
expression on his face before he turned
away from me to jog down the steps.
Miller met me at the very bottom and I
took a deep breath. “I’m alright,” I said.
He slid his teeth over the tiny gap in
the front. “You’re crying,” he pointed out.
“There were some things that needed
to be said.”
“And you’re leaving now?” he asked.
I shook my head, looking back over
my shoulder to where the light strained out
of Cooper’s bedroom door. “No, I’m
staying.”
Chapter Twenty-One
After a dreamless night, I panicked the
next morning when I felt a feather soft kiss
touch the scar on my stomach. My eyes
flew open and I caught Cooper’s messy
blonde hair in my fingers. Shaking my
head frantically to each side, I whispered,
“Don’t.”
He didn’t move and he rested his
hands on either side of my belly button,
digging the tips of his fingers softly into
my skin until I moaned. “I’m sorry about
everything that’s happened to you, Wills.”
I released a bitter laugh. “I should be
the one apologizing. I’ve been selfish and
you’ve been hurting just as much as I was.
”
He lifted his head, furrowing his
brow. “I’m fine. Maybe Dickson and I
will eventually work things out, maybe
not. The point is that I’ve learned to deal
with it.”
Sighing, I closed my eyes, arching my
back a little when he trailed little kisses
from my hip bones, to my scar, and to my
breast. He settled himself between my
legs and groaned when my phone vibrated
in the pocket of my jeans, which I’d left on
the floor last night. At first, I ignored it,
dragging his mouth down to mine, but
when it continued to ring, I pulled away
from him.
“Leave Willow alone,” Cooper said,
grinning, and he slouched back against the
pillows, watching me as I plucked my
phone out of my pants.
There were several missed calls from
my mother, a few from Kevin and a
cryptic text from Jessica.
11:16 a.m
.: Have fun explaining this
one. Leaving today. Don’t ever call me
again.
My parents called again before I could
even exit out of the message. I answered,
and it was my father who spoke up.
“There’s a fifteen minute phone call that
you made to one of your friends on
Leah
Dishes
this morning,” Dad said in a numb voice.
I felt the air slowly leave my body.
“What”
“Everything is there, kiddo.
Everything about the baby and Tyler
Leonard and your boyfriend’s secret,” he
said. “What the hell were you think—”
I disconnected the call before Dad
could get another word in and fumbled
anxiously through my call records. My
breath was puffing out of my chest in
slow, choppy gasps, and Cooper sat up in
bed, his brows knotted in concern. His
hand brushed my shoulder blades, but I
shoved it away. Finally, I found the last
call I’d made. It was to Jessica from
12:18 a.m. to 12:41 a.m.
After I’d gotten to Cooper’s place the
night before.
Cooper touched my shoulder again,
shaking it, and I flinched. “Willow, what’s
wrong?”
“I’ve fucked up.”
I punched in the web address for
Leah’s blog with prickling fingers,
ignoring Cooper’s questions. When it
popped up on the screen of my phone, I
dry-heaved. There I was at the top—the
same photo of me and Tyler that had been
posted on the site a few weeks ago—with
the headline:
AVERY SPILLS ALL ON LEONARD
LOVE CHILD
Even though I shouldn’t have, I
pressed the triangular play button over the
audio clip and released a cry when I heard
myself freaking out at Cooper last night.
His face froze. “What the fuck is
that?”
“I accidentally called Jessica while
we were arguing.”
We listened to it for a long time—to
ourselves letting out secrets we’d never
told another soul—and we didn’t say a
single words. Twelve minutes into the
audio clip, a commotion from downstairs
brought us both to our feet. Too numb to
move, I sat there, half-listening to the
recorded call, half-listening to the sounds
of Cooper’s footsteps as he shrugged into
a pair of shorts and bounded out of the
room. I heard him yelling and then Paige’s
voice, and when he returned to me a few
minutes later, his face was drawn.
“There are cameramen setting up on
the beach,” he said. “In front of my fucking
house. Jesus, Wills, I—” He caught
himself when my face fell, holding his
hands out in front of him. “It’s going to be
alright. We’re going to . . .”
I buried my face into my hands, but he
pulled them away. “I’ve got to call Miller
and—”
“He’s already here.”
I didn’t dare look at any of the faces
that surrounded me when I walked
downstairs a half an hour later wearing
the same jeans I’d worn the night before
and one of Cooper’s t-shirts. Paige and
Eric, Miller and myself sat around in
Cooper’s giant living room, while he
argued with someone—Dickson from the
sound of it—in the next room.
“Evie will be okay, alright? I—”
Cooper raged, and my shoulders sagged
even more at the mention of Dickson’s
wife. He paused for a moment and said, “I
don’t know if she’ll be. I don’t know
anything right now.”
“I want to go home,” I said.
Paige moved hesitantly forward,
kneeling down so her hazel eyes could
take me in. “I think you should stick
around, Willow,” she said in a soothing
voice.
“Miller, please just take me home.”
Cooper was still in the other room
talking to Dickson when I left, and I didn’t
interrupt to tell him I was leaving. I put on
my poker face, letting Miller guide me
through the throng of cameramen flashing
their Nikons at me—once when we left
Cooper’s place and then again when we
returned to my house.
But the second I locked the door to my
rental house behind me, I burst into tears
again. I dragged my hands through my hair
and buried my face into the suede fabric of
the couch so the paparazzo around my
rental house couldn’t hear me as I
screamed.
I screamed at myself for being so
stupid and as I sat there, rocking back and
forth, I screamed at Jessica not just for
recording such an intimate phone call but
for the tiny blue bag she’d left on my
coffee table. I balled up in the corner of
the couch and stared at it, biting my lip so
hard it bled.
When Kevin called a few minutes
later, I answered the phone, relieved at the
distraction. “I’m sorry,” I said simply,
because there was just nothing else to say.
“I’ve hurt Cooper and Dickson, and I—”
Kevin hushed me, speaking in a gentle
voice he’d only used on me a few times
before. “We’re going to do damage
control,” he said. “We’re getting the
studio and your publicist and Tyler’s—”
I shook my head, hugging myself
tighter. “There’s no damage control for
this.”
He let out a heavy sigh. “There’s
always damage control,” he said.
“I’m not doing this anymore.”
“You’ve got to.”
“I’m not,” I said. “Let them talk. Let
them say whatever. It’s the truth.”
Kevin missed a beat and then he
groaned. “I’m not going to let you do that,
Willow.”
“You don’t have a choice. I’ll call you
soon,” I promised before dropping the
call.
I grabbed the bag Jessica had left, slid
it into my pocket and walked down the
hall to my bedroom. I sat on the edge of
the bed, gripping my MacBook so hard it
was bound to break. My fingers felt numb
as I went to Leah’s website and clicked
the contact link. Leah’s grinning caricature
stared up at me, and I glared at it as I
started my message.
August 17
My name is Willow Avery.
Yes,
that
Willow Avery—
that
actress.
The one who went off the deep end three
years ago. The one whose face is
plastered all over the tabloids this
morning. They don't give a shit if there's
more to me than meets the eye, that
there's so much more to my fall from
grace, even if nobody—other than my
parents and agent—knows what that is.
Well, at least nobody knew until a few
hours ago.
And the thing is I’ve
always
cared
about what everyone thought of me, even
when it seemed like I didn’t. No matter
how hard it hurt, and no matter what I
had to give up, there was this sick part of
me that wanted approval. That still
desperately craves it. It’s just that now,
I’m not sure if I mind that everyone
knows the truth about me. Now, there's
this guy and he's not waiting for me to
screw up. He doesn’t care that I
have
screwed up . . .