Sebastian’s head drops, and I hear him sniff. “Don’t worry about it, Jacob. Work always comes first.”
I don’t know that I’ve ever felt this low. “That’s not the case for me. I care about this play, and I am so proud of you. I will be on that plane as early as I can so that I’m here.”
Brenna clears her throat, and Sebastian looks up at her. “Why don’t you go to your room and let me and Jacob talk,” Brenna suggests.
My heart is breaking, and I hate myself for hurting him. The kid has been through so much, and now I’m letting him down.
I get back up, running my hand over my face and pacing. “Brenna—”
She shakes her head, hand going up to silence me. “Not here.” Then she turns and heads outside. I do the only thing I can, which is to follow her.
Well, this is going to be even worse. The anger in her eyes is clear, and the tension in her body is palpable.
As soon as we step onto the porch, she closes the door and releases a breath through her nose. “I can’t believe you didn’t talk to me before telling him.”
“I owed him an explanation.”
She shakes her head. “He’s eleven, Jacob. He doesn’t get told before I do. I’m his mother. I should’ve at least been aware so that he didn’t see my own disappointment. I stood there, reeling from the news the same way he was. How did you think that was okay?”
“I told you I’m new at this.”
Brenna’s face twists a little, and she runs her fingers through her hair. “I get that, but you have nieces and nephews. Would you have just gone in there and told them? Did you think about how hurt Sebastian would be? How I would feel learning this?”
Anger fills me—not toward her, but toward myself. I feel stupid. I did what I thought was right. Clearly, it wasn’t, but I’m trying to be fair. “I’m on limited time before my flight. I wanted to treat Sebastian like a man.”
She scoffs. “He’s not a man. He’s a boy. A kid who thinks you walk on water, and you blindsided me.”
“So, how much of this is about Sebastian and how much is this about you?”
Brenna’s breath catches as she stares at me with her lips parted. “Excuse me?”
“You heard me. You’re not upset about Sebastian learning before you. You’re pissed that I’m leaving.”
“Of course, I’m pissed that you’re leaving! It’s the night before the play. You . . . you promised them!”
“I don’t want to go. It’s not like I asked for this.”
“Then don’t go.”
“I don’t have a choice, Brenna. I’m under a contract. If I don’t get on that plane, I’ll owe tons of money and my name will be destroyed in this industry. I’m going to do what I can to make it back, like I said.”
“And if you don’t?”
Then I’ll have to live with the damn guilt. “Then you’ll have to direct the play.”
She looks away, and I see the disappointment. “I thought . . . I knew this . . .”
“Knew what?”
When her gaze meets mine again, I sink even fucking lower into my self-loathing. “This would be what happens again. You told me, but for some stupid reason, I made myself think this would be different.”
There’s no anger in her voice, just hurt. “What would be different?”
“That maybe this time I wouldn’t have fallen for someone whose job is more important than the people in his life. Here I am again, right? You have to leave, and I have to accept it. That little boy, all the kids in that play, they love you. They need you, and you’re going to show them that they mean nothing to you compared to your career.”
The blow comes, knocking the wind out of me, but when I take another breath, anger refills my chest. “I’m not Luke. I’m not choosing this, and I’m doing every single thing to make sure that I’m back in time. You think I want this? I debated walking away from my thirteen-title movie deal that is worth millions just to make you and Sebastian happy. Knowing that it would be the end of me, but I made a commitment when I signed that contract. I did the best I could. I’m fucking trying.”
Brenna doesn’t raise her voice or even react. She’s eerily calm. “It’s fine, Jacob. I understand your position, and I’ll pick up the pieces and the show will go on. I’ll handle it because that’s my role in this life.”
I move toward her, trying to keep my voice down. “I was never supposed to be directing a play.”
“Well, now you don’t have to worry about it, do you?”
The way she’s acting, the robotic and distanced reactions, has me on edge. “I was doing it for you. For Sebastian.” She takes a step back, a fire seeming to light inside her. I see the anger now, and I stoke it. “You’re acting like it doesn’t matter, but I know it does. Get angry and we’ll find a way.”
She laughs while shaking her head. “You want me to be angry, why? So, I can tell you that this is hurting me? That you’re letting me down when you promised to be here? You want me angry, Jacob? Fine. I’m angry. I’m pissed off because, once again, I’m going to be the one who has to sacrifice. Once again, my wants don’t matter, but this is my lot in life. History repeating itself over and over. I’m allowed to feel this way even if I knew this was possible.”
“Is that really what you think? That I’m him? Am I the same as Luke, Brenna? You’re acting as though this is me choosing. You’re acting as if you didn’t know exactly what you were signing up for when you agreed to be with me. That I never explained to you that, when I’m under contract, which I am and have been since long before I met you, I have no choice but to go when they need me!”
“I need you.” Brenna looks away, silent.
“Look,” I say, trying to temper the anger boiling inside me. “I’m going to do whatever I can to be here. I’m not willingly choosing my job over you.”
I’m struggling because I get it to some extent. She asked him to be there for her and he wasn’t. But my being called into set on an emergency isn’t the norm. I’m just stuck right now.
“It’s just the way it is.”
I move toward her, wanting to soothe her before I leave. “I told you this was possible.”
She turns away, wiping at her face. “That you did, and I think that’s the worst part. I willingly accepted this—or, at least, I thought I did. I thought that I was going to be okay with it all, and now that I’m faced with it—it just hurts.”
When my hand touches her back, she flinches. “Brenna, please don’t.”
“Don’t what?”
“Don’t punish me for Luke’s crimes.”
The tears fall down her face. “I’m not. You have to leave, and I have to figure out how to direct a play.”
I take a step back, hating that this is where we’re at. “So, it doesn’t matter at all that I really have no choice or that I’m going to do everything I can, pull every string and call in every favor, to get back here in time? That doesn’t count for anything?”