“Yeah. That must have been a terrible year, sweetie.”
“No kidding. There are parts of it that I don’t remember very well.” The first ugly weeks after the attack, she’d been a terrified wreck. It had been a blur of police reports, a hospital exam. Her father’s rage. Georgia didn’t like remembering it. It had taken her a long time to feel normal again, and dwelling on the past felt like inviting the shadows back into her life.
“Was Leo around after it happened? That would be a lot for an eighteen-year-old boy to take.” Becca rose up on her knees to refill her wine glass.
Georgia tried to decide what to say about that time that was fair to both of them. “Leo was amazing,” she admitted, reaching for more dumplings. “I didn’t go to school for a while. He’d come over afterwards and bring me the homework assignments. He brought me cupcakes and movies to watch. He just sat there on the sofa and held my hand for about six weeks straight. And then when I went back to school, he drove every day and walked me into the building and then out again afterwards. So I’d feel safe.”
Becca sighed into her wine glass. “That’s pretty inspiring. It’s almost enough to restore my faith in men. Almost.” She hadn’t been lucky in her dating life, which was one of the reasons she and Georgia spent so many of their Friday nights eating takeout on the coffee table. “So why did you dump him? Or shouldn’t I ask? Please don’t tell me he cheated while you were laid up. I really hope this story doesn’t end like that.”
It didn’t, though. “No, he was perfect. Except that we’d been so happy before, and now we were both sad all the time.” There was a cloud over the two of them that hadn’t always been there. Before, Leo had always looked at her with laughter in his eyes. Whether they were playing tennis on the courts in the park, or singing along to the radio in his car, it was all fun and games.
That was all gone after her attack. Even as he held her hand on the sofa, regret seemed to permeate the air. All their jokes were gone—stolen for good on one brutal night in Florida. His laughing eyes were gone, too, replaced with concern and regret.
And as the weeks ground onward, Georgia knew it would never be the same again. Hour by stifling hour, she had literally watched their wild, passionate love affair dissipate. Leo became the best friend she’d ever had. But the passion was gone.
“I always thought that Leo and I would be together forever,” she admitted. “But things just weren’t the same between us. And I was heading to Virginia for college in August, and he was headed for Harkness in Connecticut. So it was going to be weird anyway. And I just dreaded the idea of a whole summer of Leo watching me to make sure that I was okay.” When graduation day came, she’d reached her limit. Splitting up with him felt like simply accepting the inevitable. “So I told him that after such a sad, scary year, I needed a clean break, that I wanted to start fresh in college. And that there was no reason to drag it out. That it was just going to hurt more later.”
Becca cringed. “What did he do?”
Georgia swallowed hard, and the wine she’d drunk seemed to turn to acid in her stomach. “He got all teared up. But he said, ‘It’s not what I want. But I understand.’ And then he went home.”
With a shaking hand, Georgia set down her glass and took another bite. At the time, Leo’s quiet acceptance of this decision had shocked her. She didn’t know three years of love and togetherness could be undone so quickly. But Leo stayed away like she’d asked him to. And she cried herself to sleep sporadically for the next several weeks, wondering if she’d been crazy to send him away.
The summer had dragged on in the same sad way, only lonelier. Then, on the Fourth of July, she’d gone to the fireworks show on her dad’s boat. And on the docks she’d spied him with a girl from their graduating class. The two of them had been eating ice cream and laughing about something.
Seeing that had practically killed her. On the one hand, watching Leo smile at another girl had made her feel enraged. But the worst was knowing he hadn’t smiled at her like that for months.
That’s why she’d had to cut him loose. But knowing it was the right thing to do hadn’t made it easier.
“Do you ever talk?” Becca asked.
Georgia shook her head. “Nope. I never wanted to. He’s probably got a girlfriend, maybe even a fiancée. This was almost six years ago. I don’t want to know. His brother and I are still friends, but I never ask about Leo. I guess that’s pretty weird, right?” If you’d asked Georgia twenty-four hours ago whether or not she still felt any pain when she thought of Leo, she would have said no. But there was obviously still a sore spot there.
Becca set her wine glass down with a thunk. “Georgia Ann Worthington, I think he’s the reason you don’t date. I think you’re still in love with this boy.”
“Man,” she corrected quickly. “And it was a long time ago, Bec. We were just kids.”
Her roommate’s scrutiny was a little more attentive than Georgia would have wished. “If you say so. Unfortunately, Leo Trevi went on record today to tell the whole world that you’re the love of his life.”
It was Georgia’s turn to cringe. “Leo was shocked to see me, I think. And O’Doul had just referred to me as a bitch. He just . . . snapped a little.”
“He can snap on my behalf any day of the week,” Becca said. “I took seventy calls from the media this afternoon, and plenty of them were questions about Leo.”
Georgia set down her fork and tossed her napkin on the table. Then she lay back on their area rug. “I’m in such deep shit, Bec. Nate and the general manager are going to have to hire someone over me now. My press conference was a shit show, and some of those reporters are going to ask about me.” She picked her head up off the cushion and squinted at Becca. “They are, right? I’m not just vain to think that?”
Becca cringed. “You are the least vain person I know. And unfortunately, I was asked by three people whether you were the subject of the argument between O’Doul and the rookie.”
Georgia dropped her head back down and groaned. “The publicist isn’t supposed to be part of the story.”
Becca was silent for a moment. “Well, Nate left for Midtown about an hour and a half after the press conference. So he doesn’t know that I had to cover your phones all day. Not unless Hugh mentions it to him.”
The general manager wasn’t the type to micromanage Becca, so Georgia’s freak-out had probably gone unnoticed. “Thank you, by the way,” Georgia said to their antique plaster ceiling. “I don’t know what I would have done if you hadn’t screened for me.” Once it became obvious that she’d receive press inquiries about the hot mic incident, she’d forwarded her line to Becca’s desk, hoping to stay out of the story. “This is so bad, though. Will you help me strategize?”