And I supposed I wasn’t really surprised. Then or now.
“And we just thought it would be a good idea for you and me to be seen together,” he said. “You know, to show there aren’t any hard feelings.”
“Your hard feelings or mine?” I asked.
Ryan shrugged. “Both, I guess,” he said. “Apparently the internet is divided on what happened between us. Some people think I wasn’t very nice to you.”
I sipped my drink, saying nothing.
“I mean, you did cheat on me,” he said. “That’s pretty uncool.”
“Yes,” I said. “Yes, it was.”
“Apology accepted,” he said.
I’d apologized multiple times—before and after Ryan had gone public with the scandal—but I guess now was as good a time as ever to have that apology accepted.
“Are we done?” I asked.
“Diana thought we could do a photo shoot or an interview or something,” he said. “I bet we could get on, like, Good Morning America.”
“I don’t want to be on Good Morning America,” I said.
Which was partially a lie. I didn’t want to be on Good Morning America with Ryan.
“It would be great publicity for the show,” he said.
“And for you too, I’m guessing.”
“Well, yeah,” he said.
I looked at him for a long time. He fidgeted. Looked away.
“Why?” I asked.
“Because we’re old friends,” he said.
I laughed. “What’s the role?” I asked.
He deflated a little. “It’s a really good one,” he said. “And I’d be perfect for it.”
“But…”
“But people are kind of angry at me, I guess,” he said. “They think I threw you under the bus and used you to help my career.”
I didn’t say anything.
“I didn’t,” Ryan insisted. “I’m a nice guy.”
“Sure,” I said, thinking of all the calls and emails he ignored when I asked him to call off the attack dogs—all the press—he’d sicced on me. When I begged him to stop sharing details about my private life, like that I’d lost my virginity to him and that I waxed my upper lip and stomach.
“Just an interview,” he said, “or two. Showing that we’re friends.”
“We’re not friends,” I said.
“Oh, come on, Katee,” Ryan said. “You can’t still be mad about what happened.”
I stared at him.
“Do you mean the entire destruction of my career?” I asked. “Can’t imagine why that would still bother me.”
He squirmed.
“You forgave Cal,” he said. “It’s not like he stood by you.”
He had a point, and that was annoying as fuck.
“That’s different,” I said.
Ryan was watching me.
“Are you two together?” he asked.
“No,” I said.
He didn’t look convinced.
“I just think you owe me,” he said.
I’d spent the last ten years agreeing with him. That I was the villain, that I was the one to blame. But maybe Cal was right—maybe it wasn’t about Ryan’s forgiveness or his or even Harriet’s. Maybe it was about forgiving myself.
“No,” I said.
“No?”
I’d made mistakes, but I’d paid for them. I’d learned from them. Mostly. I’d continue to learn from them. But not if I kept punishing myself over something I couldn’t change. I’d done a bad thing, but I wasn’t a bad person. I wasn’t beyond salvation. Wasn’t beyond love.
“No,” I said. “I don’t owe you anything.”
“Wow,” Ryan said. “Guess nothing has changed.”
I looked at him. Stared him down. “Guess nothing has,” I said.
“You cheated on me,” he whined.
“We were kids,” I said. “And it was a mistake and I apologized. However, I’m still waiting for your apology.”
“Mine?”
“You didn’t have to do what you did,” I said. “I know you were hurt, but you didn’t just lash out, Ryan, you did everything you could to destroy my career. You wanted to ruin me.”
He crossed his arms tightly over his chest and pouted.
“And don’t pretend that you didn’t have control of the narrative. I know you chose not to tell people it was Cal—you wanted to keep the band together until you had your out, until you had your big break.”
“I was the only talented one in the whole group anyway,” he said.
“So you’ve claimed,” I said. “And yet, you need my help to keep your name in the press.”
“I don’t need it,” he said. “You need it.”
It was a bit like playing “I know you are but what am I?” Like interacting with a child.
“I know what you and Cal used to say about me,” Ryan said. “You thought I was an idiot, but I knew that you guys were getting closer.”
I didn’t say anything.
“Come on,” he said. “It’s just one interview.”
But I didn’t trust Ryan.
“Sorry,” I said. “You’ll have to get that role on your own.”
“You’re being unfair,” he said.
I stood and put a hand on his shoulder.
“You know, we had a good thing for a while,” I said. “But that was over a long time ago. Fuck off forever, Ryan.”
CHAPTER 38
“What is this?” Harriet shoved her phone in front of me.
It was Wednesday, a two-show day—which meant I’d have to be back in the theatre in a few hours. Not enough time to go back to Brooklyn and I didn’t feel like hiding in my dressing room.
I’d gotten myself two chocolate rugelach from the Breads kiosk and was sitting eating them in Bryant Park when a picture of Ryan and me slid across the table.
It was the most Harriet had said to me in days.
“Are you hanging out with Ryan now?” she asked, sitting down.