Five Years Being “Practical,” Then I Made My Dream Pay Off Chapter 08
I was in Hawaii for a seven–day shoot. Over that week, Walter
tried every possible way to earn my forgiveness.
He confessed his hidden wealth, admitted his feelings for Zoe
went far beyond friendship, and dissected every way he’d
failed me–all at length.
My schedule was packed, but he always found me during
makeup sessions.
After three days of listening to his apologies, my makeup
artist finally leaned in, visibly moved. “Why won’t you give
him another chance?”
I leaned back against the sofa with my eyes shut. “If he had
said all of this one year ago, I might have run into his arms
crying. But the past stays the past. I really don’t love him anymore.”
Something shattered against the floor. I opened my eyes.
Walter stood in the doorway, his face crumpling. Two cups of
coffee lay shattered across the floor, sticky liquid spreading everywhere.
Walter’s eyes glistened red as he fixed them on me. “Aria,
aren’t you being cruel? Seven years of everything we shared,
and you throw it all away? You won’t give me a single chance to fix this?”
“I know I messed up, but I’m changing now. I am trying to
make amends. Why can’t you see that?”
I drew a deep breath and closed my eyes once more. “Walter,
you still don’t understand.”
He spoke with a catch in his throat. “Tell me. Explain it to
me.”
I opened my eyes and looked straight at him. “The woman
who loved you would have abandoned her dream for you. The
woman sitting here doesn’t love you anymore–and no
amount of pleading will change that. I will never go back.”
“Walter, you hurt me too deeply. That is the reason. And the
fact that I don’t love you anymore is the result.”
All the color drained from his face. A single tear escaped. “Just
give me one chance, please.”
There are no chances left.”
Tears fell unchecked now. He let out a bitter laugh. “Aria,
don’t hate me, okay?”
shrugged and settled back into the makeup chair. “Hate
you? I don’t have the energy for that.”
My makeup artist resumed her work. A production assistant
stepped through the door. “Ms. Hill, let’s run through your lines.”
I nodded and dove back into work. I never noticed exactly
when Walter left. Every word I had told him was true.
Hating someone took too much energy. My heart was too full
of everything else to hold any space for him.
When I checked out of the hotel, the concierge handed me a bank card.
“A guest named Walter left this for you,” he said. “He said he,
knew how much he’d hurt you, and this is his attempt to
make it up. He also said whenever you change your mind.
whenever you are ready for marriage, you can come back to
him. He will always wait.”
I didn’t take the card for myself–but I didn’t refuse it either. I donated every cent.