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“Why?”
I thought about it for a moment before answering. “I’m not totally sure. He said it was because I would have to go north for a few months to film, and he didn’t want me away that long. He was shooting in LA at the time. When I told him I was going anyway, he turned mean.” My voice wavered. “He told me the part was too much for me. That I wasn’t ready.”
Atticus closed his eyes as if my words pained him.
“I went ahead anyway, mostly because Celeste knew if I broke my contract that I’d pay for it. The studio behind the film’s powerful. It would cost me work to make that kind of a decision. I explained that to him, but he kept insisting I was making a huge mistake. He got really ugly, a side I hadn’t seen from him. I told him I was doing it and that it was the best role I’d ever been offered and didn’t he care about that? That question was followed by a litany of reasons why the movie would be a mistake, including that it was too close to my mother’s story.”
“Which only he knew about? You know what I mean?”
I blinked, taking in his meaning. “No way. Ben wouldn’t have leaked that story. I mean, why would he?”
“Annie, come on.” He eyed me over his glass. “He didn’t want you to do the film because it left you vulnerable to input besides his. Control. Gaslighting. Punishment when you didn’t do what he wanted. That’s all classic narcissist behavior.”
I stared into my glass. There wasn’t enough wine in the world to persuade me against the truth in what he said. “I know you’re right. I just don’t want you to be.” Tears gathered at the corners of my eyes. I swiped them away with the back of my finger. “Is love ever real, or is it just something people pretend to feel when it suits them?”
“People like Potter? They’re not capable of loving anyone but themselves.”
“He wanted me to join his church, too.”
“What kind of church?” Atticus asked.
“Not the kind we were raised in, that’s for sure. It’s more of a cult, if you ask me. That was our second fight.”
“How long before he started trying to convince you to change religions?”
“Not until after we were engaged.”
“Wow. This guy’s a piece of work.”
I twirled the wine in my glass, splashing it precariously closeto the top. “I know. I should have known better. He was a lot like my mom. Seemingly perfect but with dark secrets.”
“You dodged a disaster when he ended things,” Atticus said. “You know that, right?”
“I do now. At the time, when I saw those photos of the two of them? It hurt so bad. Like when my mom died. All those old feelings came rushing back.” I brought the glass to my mouth but didn’t drink, the stark truth of what Atticus had just said made me queasy. “Do you really think he leaked that story to the press?”
“It’s a distinct possibility. Have you ever told anyone else about your past?”
“The only people who knew lived here at the time. Or, obviously, our families.”
“None of whom would want to bring that up, not only for your sake but ours. It was all such a long time ago.”
“Yeah, but it never left us. Those lessons of betrayal cut deep.”
“It’s true,” Atticus said. “Even with Pop showing up every day like he did, there’s still a part of me that wonders about most people. Are they really who they say they are? My girlfriend disappointed me in that way. It was clear after the IPO that she was all about the money and being a mogul's wife.”
“Mogul?”
“You know what I mean.” Atticus brushed his palm over the top of the table. “After I made a ton of money, suddenly she wanted to get married.”
“We clearly have great taste,” I said, smiling.
He shrugged. “Or maybe it was practice, so we’d recognize the real thing when it came to us.”
That night,after we'd talked until my voice felt hoarse, catching up on so much that happened since the last time we'd seen each other, I changed into my flannel pajamas, bought especially for this visit to Montana, and snuggled under the down comforter in the guest room.
Outside, snow had started to fall gently but without much commitment, other than to make the night beautiful.
I couldn't sleep and lay there watching the flakes meander and sway in the soft lights of Atticus’s landscaping.
