Page 94 of The Ring
“Yes, I’m fine.”
Benedictmakes a weird face for a few seconds before bursting into a coughing fit. I take a moment to realise he was trying to hold it in.
I turn to face him, sitting cross-legged with my back to the side of the bed where the headboard isn’t. “Nooo, I told you this would happen—you came, and now you’re sick.”
He points at himself. “This?” He shakes his head. “No, I just choked on my own spit,” he brushes it off. But then he bursts into another coughing fit.
I raise my eyebrows. “You were saying?”
“I may have gotten a little sick,” he admits, pinching his fingers close to show how little.
I frown, not finding this nearly as amusing as he does.
“It’s fine, I’m barely sick. It won’t cause any problems with the audition,” he says, opening one arm, inviting me to curl into his side. “And now we can be sick together.”
I didn’t get so sick until the second day, so maybe he’ll get through the audition fine.
I roll my eyes as I lie at his side, my head resting on him, and he wraps an arm around me. “How romantic,” I mutter.
He laughs, then kisses the top of my head. “I love you.” He says it often, with such ease, but I’ve never felt any pressure to say it back. It’s like he says it simply because he means it, expecting nothing in return.
That’s how most things with him are—effortless, natural, and drama-free.
Even his father—and his mother, who’s also his agent—loves me. Part of it is because the press loves us together, but I’d take it all the same. That might change if he fluffs his audition because of being ill, though. I hope that doesn’t happen.
Being with him brings me so much peace.
“I love you too,” I say to him softly for the first time.
I do love him. Saying I don’t would be alie now.
I’ve only experienced one romantic type of love before—the one I had with TJ. It was complicated, all-consuming, intense, and, at times, maddening—and probably a little unhealthy. It just appeared one day and never went away. With Benedict, it’s different. It grew over time, little by little, until I could no longer pretend it wasn’t there anymore.
His eyes light up—he clearly wasn’t expecting me to say it.
“Can you say it again?” he asks, a smile spreading across his face.
“I love you,” I repeat.
He leans in and kisses me gently. “One more time,” he murmurs against my lips.
“I love you.”
He kisses me again, this time with more urgency, and he doesn’t stop. I try to let myself drown in the moment, to lose myself in him, but I can’t shake the thought of the kiss with TJ—or the voice in the back of my head that says,You love him, but not like you love TJ.
Chapter 55
TJ
Gunshots echo through the flat, crisp and sharp, as though we were sitting in an actual cinema. You’ve got to love a good sound system. I’m watchingCivil Warmade by A24, catching up on some films I’ve missed.
Cornelia never liked watching anything violent. She used to say,The world’s already too violent—why would I spend my escape time watching more of it? If I want violence, I can just turn on the news.She preferred romcoms and sitcoms. I’ll admit, she had a point. But violent movies are also, let’s face it,veryentertaining.
Now that we’re not together, I can watch them. The only perk of us breaking up. One I’d happily relinquish if we ever get back together.
Weberly is sprawled beside me on the couch, though she’s not paying attention to the movie. She’s completely absorbed in whatever she’s watching on her phone.
After the whole yacht debacle in Monaco, it didn’t take much for Weberly to forgive me for ditching her to get high—just a few apologies and a promise that I would never do drugs in front of her.
