Page 116 of Making the Save
Axil’s place wasn’t huge. An adorable yellow bungalow, only a block off the beach, that actually looked a lot like mine. I was sitting at the kitchen island in a pair of sweats and a t-shirt he’d lent me. The fact that we nearly shared the same waist size was somewhat alarming.
We had so much more in common than we thought, and after a night of spilling my guts out to him, I thought for the first time in a long time I had a friend. A real friend.
As soon as he opened the door I could hear the cacophony of cameras clicking, reporters shouting at him.
“Axil, are you and Sydney getting back together?”
“Does her husband know about your history?”
“How long has Sydney been cheating on her husband with you?”
What a slut they must think I am. Cheating on John with Wyatt. Cheating on Wyatt with Axil.
“It’s Beatrice.”
My relief was immense. Just the sight of her comforting, dear face made me cry fresh tears.
“Oh,” she said, and then, breaking a dozen of her rules of propriety, she crossed the room and pulled me into her arms. “It’s going to be alright, Sydney.”
But it wasn’t. Not really. Not for a while.
“I’ve come to take you home,” she said. “If you’re ready?”
I nodded and slid off the stool, where I’d been sitting. I went back to the guest bedroom to pick up Francine’s dress and slip back into the studded heels’ I’d worn.
The P&P’s were going to love this look. The headlines wrote themselves.
I came back into the living room where Axil and Bea were whispering, but stopped as soon as they saw me.
“I’m ready to go,” I said to Bea. “We can stop by the house to pack a bag but then I’m heading to New York for a while. Axil, please come and visit. We can talk more about your album. You’ll always have a place to stay with me, anytime. But I need to get away from California.”
“Sydney, you’ve got one very large, very angry man waiting for you back in Malibu,” Beatrice said.
“He’s still there?”
“He refuses to leave until you talk to him.”
I sighed and tried to find the well of strength I needed for this, but my well was empty. Maybe I didn’t need clothes? I could just leave Axil’s and go straight to the airport.
No. I was fighting my battles these days, not avoiding them. Not lying about them.
I walked to the front door, my hand reaching for the knob.
“Sydney, no,” Bea said. “We’ll have the driver come get us. I told him to bring umbrellas. No walk of shame for you.”
This game was exhausting, and I was done with it.
“I have nothing to be ashamed of.”
Opening the door, the quiet outside exploded. There were maybe twenty or so paparazzi with cameras. Tricia from Celebrity Truth was there with a cameraman, which she had to resent because she would have had a late night covering the America’s Choice Awards.
Not my problem either.
Like a death march, I forced my feet forward until I stepped off Axil’s property line, onto the sidewalk where I was officially fair game. They swarmed around me, but Tricia got close to me first.
“Sydney, is this the end of your marriage to Wyatt Locke and will you be getting back with Axil?”
“No,” I said. “Axil is just a friend. And there is no marriage to end, because you know better than anyone, my marriage to Wyatt wasn’t real.”