“Wake up, Nat.” I startle awake at Luke’s voice.

“What are you doing here?” His eyes are worried and he’s leaning over me, his face pale.

“I couldn’t reach you all day and I was worried so I came home. Why didn’t you tell me you were sick?”

“Who told you I’m sick?” I sit up and scoot back out of his grasp and he frowns, confused.

“Jules said you’d been sick today and she took you to the E.R. Baby, you don’t look very good.”

“Yeah, I’m probably contagious. You should go home.” I wrap my arms around myself and I just can’t look him in the face.

“Natalie, what’s wrong?”

“I just don’t feel good.”

“Bullshit, look at me. Where’s your ring?” His eyes are on my left hand.

“In my jewelry box.”

“Why isn’t it on your finger?” His voice is rising and he’s starting to look desperate, and I’m still sad and pissed and hormonal and I know this is not going to go well.

“Luke, I think you should go home.”

“No. Tell me what’s wrong.”

I can’t stop the tears as they fall down my face. Luke reaches for me, but I pull back.

“Let me touch you.”

“No.” I shake my head. “I just want you to go home.”

Luke pushes his hands through his hair in frustration. “Nat, let me help. Talk to me.”

“You’ve done enough.”

“What does that mean?”

“Just go home!” I shout.

“No!” he shouts back.

I hang my head in my hands and hate myself for crying in front of him. “Just go,” I whisper.

“You’re scaring the shit out of me.

What is wrong?”

“I saw you.” I raise my face and look him square in the eye. “I saw you with Vanessa outside of a restaurant in L.A. I saw you with your arm around her and your nose against her fucking ear, your mouth was on hers and you got into a car with her.”

He frowns and swallows.

“Now get the fuck out.”

“Natalie, that was a lunch meeting for a movie I’m asking her to do. There were three other people there. Did you see them in the photos too?”

“I don’t care.”

“I’m not lying to you.”

“I know what I saw.”

“You

saw

exactly

what

the

motherfucking paparazzi wanted you to see! I told you from the beginning, you need to talk to me, Natalie.”

I’m shaking my head adamantly. “You lied to me when you told me that you don’t speak to your ex-fiancé. You wig out on me about Brad, ask me to respect your feelings when it comes to working with men, but you don’t give me a heads up that you’re going to be meeting with a woman you not only used to fuck, but were supposed to marry? According to those photos, you more than talk to her.

Did you fuck her in that car?”

“Jesus Christ, no! Is that what you think?”

“Just go. I can’t trust you and I don’t want you here.”

“You’re making this more than what it is. I’m telling you, it was a business meeting.”

“Okay. I still don’t want you here.”

“Fuck, Nat.” He stands up and paces around my room, looking everywhere, running his hands through his hair. “Why won’t you believe me?”

“You lied to me, and that’s a line I can’t deal with you crossing.”

“I didn’t lie!” he shouts. “I haven’t spoken to her until this week when I asked her to do the fucking movie!”

Oh, why won’t he just go? My tears are coming again.

“Baby, don’t cry. I promise, I’m not lying to you about this.” He steps toward me but I hold my hand up, stopping him.

“You need to know what seeing that did to me. You didn’t look like colleagues, Luke. You had your hands on her and the look on your face was the one you give me when you smile at me.”

He swallows and I continue. “You effectively ripped my heart out and stomped it to dust with just one look.

Now, I’m upset and hurt and hormonal, and I can’t deal with you tonight. I need you to give me some space, and I need it now because I just can’t look at you anymore.”

“Natalie, we’ve both done things we regret. Fuck, your whole body is a roadmap to your mistakes.”

I blink at him. Did he seriously just say that to me?

“I guess this will just be an experience that I’ll add to my roadmap.

Now get out of my house before I call the police.”

“I love you.” He’s looking me square in the eyes, his own blue eyes are bright with fear. “This is not over. I’ll give you some time, but goddamn it, Nat, this is not over.”

He leaves my room and slams the door behind him. A few seconds later I hear the front door slam too and then I hear his car – the Lexus? – peel out of the driveway.

I lay back on the bed, too exhausted to cry or, ironically, sleep.

“I didn’t tell him about the baby,” I say as Jules walks into my room.

“I figured. Did he deny it?”

“He says it was a business lunch about a movie he’s asking her to do.”

My voice is monotone.

“He could be telling the truth.”