“I’m not going to bail on you, Dickson,” I said. Dickson shook his head and touched my shoulder.
“You’re not. We’ll give Justin a few extra scenes if we have to—that kid will love that. What I want you to do is go get yourself help, Willow.” Not once did Dickson look at me angrily, even though his name was being smeared too, and I caught Cooper giving him an appreciative nod when he added, “I know of a good place in L.A. and I’ll gladly foot the bill.”
That night, once Cooper went to bed and the cameras outside of his place finally died down, I slunk away to the hallway that led out to the deck so I could call my parents. It was two in the morning in Los Angeles, but my mom answered almost as soon as I hit the call button, her voice anxious.
“Where have you been all day? We’ve been worried sick. Your dad and I’ve scheduled a morning flight to come to Hawaii and—”
“Don’t,” I said, pacing, my bare feet tapping softly on the cold floor.
“Don’t? Please don’t push us away this time—” She paused and I heard my dad say something to her. I heard the sound of her hand scratching against the receiver and a second later, my father came on the line.
“Willow, don’t be difficult,” Dad said.
Don’t be difficult. Don’t. Be. Fucking. Difficult.
I bit the inside of my cheek before telling him, “I wrote a letter to Leah’s blog.”
Dad sucked in a breath of air. “I’m aware.” I paused, shaking my head incredulously. There was no doubt in my mind that it had been published on the site almost as soon as I sent it.
“I’m going back to rehab, Dad. Dickson says he’s gotten everything out of me that he needs to make this film a success.”
“Willow—”
“Just listen to me for once!” I snapped, and then I heard nothing but silence on the other line. “Cooper’s flying me home tomorrow or the next day—hell, I don’t know—but the point is, I’m coming back to do what I should have done eight months ago. And hopefully, the next time I see you, I’ll be okay. I’ll be . . . right.”
Dad murmured something to my mother and I heard her make a strangled noise. “What about your career? What about your acting?”
“Hollywood has survived twice without me before. I don’t think the industry will shut down if I disappear.”
“Do you need—”
“I don’t need money,” I said and then I sat down on the floor across from the laundry room door and told him about Dickson finding me a rehab and paying for it. When I was finished, I sighed. “I’ll call you. Or write you. And Dad?”
“Yeah, kiddo?” he asked, his voice heavy with emotion.
“For once, it would be nice if you didn’t have something planned when I come out. If you could just let me ease back into regular life. If you could give me that respect..”
When I placed the phone down on its screen a moment later, a sound from the end of the hallway startled me, and I looked up to see Cooper leaned against the wall, looking so much like he did that first night a couple months ago when he’d kissed me senseless in the doorway at my rental.
I smiled sadly as I got to my feet and gravitated to him. Our bodies were flush, and he threaded his fingertips into the hair near my temples.
And then, he kissed me again, like it was the last time we’d say goodbye.
Chapter Twenty-Two
My new home for the next sixty days was called Seaside, even though it wasn’t anywhere near the sea. The rehab Dickson had paid for was nowhere near as luxurious as the first one I’d been to, nor was it as plain as Serenity Hills. The Monday after Leah Dishes Hollywood first broke the story about me and Tyler, and Dickson and Cooper, Cooper helped me check in. After I filled out a packet of paperwork that was a good two inches thick, we stood in front of the staff station because he wasn’t allowed beyond that point.
“A couple months ago I never thought I’d say this,” he said in a low voice, his fingertips skimming the sides of my face, “but I’m actually going to miss you, Wills.” He was grinning, but it didn’t reach his eyes, and I knew he was just trying to make me smile.
This will be hard.
I refused to say that aloud. So I forced the corners of my lips up into a smile and dragged in a deep breath between my teeth to keep from crumpling. I didn’t want to be here. Two months ago I’d sworn to myself that I’d never go back to rehab and now here I was again checking myself in. All I knew was that I needed help—I didn’t want to feel like I needed to drown my sorrows every time I read about myself online or whenever I had a bad dream. I could do this. It was only sixty days.
People had been separated for so much longer.
A desperate exhale slipped from my lips as I pulled his mouth down to cover mine. The kiss was entirely too short and I shivered when our mouths broke apart. A member of the staff called my name and Cooper cast a grim look in his direction, tightening his grip on my fingertips.
“I feel like—” he started and then dragged his free hand through his blonde hair.
“Like what?”
The corners of his lips quirked up for a moment into a painful grimace. “Like I’ve failed you, Wills.”
He hadn’t. He’d done just the opposite and I shook my head from side to side. “This will be worth it,” I said. Then, reluctantly, I pulled away from Cooper and went in the direction of the man saying my name.
“I can do this,” I said under my breath. “I’ll be fine.”