Page 82 of London, Can You Wait?

“I want a partner who spends more time with me than away from me, but that’s not our life, is it? And if you were serious about making time for us, you’d have done it by now…”

“Babe, I am serious. That’s why I’m gonna carve out more time for us. You can visit set more often. We can FaceTime every morning, before bed—”

“Waving through a tablet screen or having sex in your dressing room every few weeks doesn’t cut it. I want to wake up beside you in our bed. I want to decorate this flat together. I want to cook for us—simple things. What we have, it’s not enough.”

He dragged both hands through his hair. “Lex, it’s not enough for me either.”

“You say that and yet every time we’ve talked about it, I can see you’re torn. I know you don’t mean to let me down, but if it’s a choice between disappointing me or Wink, I lose, every time. It’s like Wink has this hold over you.” She threw her arms up. “Fuck, he’s even got you doing action movies, Mark! We used to make jokes about those films. When we first met, you said your dream was to follow in the footsteps of your favourite actors, doing roles that meant something, but since Wink arrived, you’ve abandoned that. Since when do you want to become Vin fucking Diesel?”

“I don’t. I’ll still do theatre.” He pointed at the table. “Look, why don’t you open the box—”

“Wink dictates everything: the jobs you take, how often you’re home. It’s a tug of war, and I’m tired of always being on the losing end—”

“Not anymore. I talked to him.”

Bruno sang out again from Mark’s phone.

“Ignore it.” He refused to pull his eyes away from Alex.

“We can’t, Mark, that’s the point…”

Bruno kept singing.

“It doesn’t matter what Wink thinks.” Mark shook his head, turning his phone over. “Shit.” He sagged with a sigh. “I hav—”

“Yep.”

“Wink.” Mark snapped his eyes shut. “Can I ring you—”

Alex exhaled.

“Er, really…? They want me to read…? Wow, okay…if you think…no, not a problem… Yep. Thanks.”

Alex shook her head. “Go on. You were just saying ‘it doesn’t matter what Wink thinks’?”

He pinched his lips and dropped his phone on the table. No words were necessary. His hesitation spoke for him.

She placed her fingers to her temples. “You haven’t been around to notice, but…I’ve spent hours at my keyboard these last few months but nothing comes. It’s like an instrument I’ve forgotten how to play. My writing’s a shadow of what it was last year. Producers and directors are passing on my work…it’s just not good enough—”

“The Garrick is just one theatre, Lex. There’s plent—”

“The Donmar rejected my commission—”

“What? When—?”

“Back in October. See? I’ve become a theatre has-been at twenty-four. No one is returning my calls. Being ignored is even more brutal than being rejected. It’s soul crushing.”

“I know that better than anyone. Look, I can help—”

“And do what? Make them take my calls?” Alex clenched her jaw. “Everything is a mess. My credit card is maxed out. I had to sell stuff to pay rent—”

“Why didn’t you tell me? I can support us.”

“I want to be financially self-sufficient, but I can’t, not without my writing voice. I’ve lost it. Can’t you see how that feels, Mark? It’s like…it left with you one day and hasn’t come back. What if I never get it back?”

“Lex, it will come back.”

“Yeah? When? Because I’m tired of waiting, turning myself inside out over writing, bills, the future…you—it’s not helping. I just…can’t…not anymore.” She fought to catch her breath.