Falling Stars: A Celebrity, Lovers to Enemies to Lovers, Second Chance Standalone Romantic Comedy (Love in London Book 4) by Sara Madderson

Author:Sara Madderson [Madderson, Sara]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2022-03-26T04:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 28

Elle

Fuck fuck fuck. I am such an idiot. I don’t know what the hell happened to me just now. One minute, we were drinking tea in a perfectly civilised manner and I was like, I can do this. And the next, he completely slayed me with this shock outpouring of vulnerability and brutal fucking honesty and I could not handle it. My heart just couldn’t take it.

The main thing I was thinking when he was talking, to be honest, was this is not the Josh Lander I knew. When I was with him, he was larger than life, an incredibly successful and charismatic, and yes, entitled, and secure-in-his-own skin celebrity who charmed the pants off me. Quite literally. And I was the little newbie who drank up that whole Hollywood persona he had going on.

But he’s different. And it’s not just because my own career has taken off and I’ve caught up with him (or eclipsed him, if I’m being mean or comparing box office takings). Someone’s turned the volume switch on Josh Lander right down and it’s kind of sad, in one way, because it feels like he’s gone through a lot of shit and then some.

It’s also… reassuring, oddly, to hear about his journey. About the work he’s been doing on himself. And unsettling. Because if I’m honest, I’ve reduced the entire guy down to one thing he did. One horrible, inexplicable and unforgivable act. And I’ve hated him for that for years, and hate is a nice, clean feeling. It’s easy to get your head around, and it feels great to act on.

But when he acted all honest and humble and vulnerable and insightful just now? Well, that really fucked with my head. Because Josh Lander, who I’d conveniently pigeonholed and made myself dismiss as a hot, basic douchebag, was easy to hate. But Josh Lander, working every day to stay clean from addictions I didn’t have the slightest clue he had, and sharing his inner demons with me in an articulate and generous fashion?

That I cannot handle.

That I’m not equipped for.

Because it’s too much. There’s so much regret and frustration and sadness there. The guy sitting across from me a few minutes ago is a hell of a lot more worthy of forgiveness and happiness and love than the guy I’ve reduced to a single loathsome deed.

Unless he was acting. He’s a bloody good actor, after all, when he wants to be. One of the best. It could all be a carefully plotted seduction strategy. There could be diddly squat under that pretty, pretty face and those impactful lines he reeled me in with.

So I couldn’t help but throw his mistakes back in his face, right there, and it felt good to lash out. To hurt him like he hurt me, if only in the most superficial way. To treat him like a small child: rather than forcing an apology for the sake of it, reminding him actions have consequences.

In other words, it’s karma, dickhead.

It

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