Page 21 of Marriage & Mockery

I merged into traffic, a muscle jumping in my jaw. “I should have called you that night.”

“Focus on what you can still control. I can put you in touch with a damn good publicist, send a notice of termination to Sheila, and work with your new publicist to draft language today. I can also loop in the network’s people if you want institutional weight behind it.”

“Yes,” I agreed.

“To which part?”

My answer was easy because I finally felt like I was at least doing something to improve the mess I’d caused. “All of it.”

“I’ll have something to you by this afternoon. If Sheila calls, direct her questions to me. And in the meantime, don’t feed the story. No comments or clarifications that keep her name trending.”

“Understood.”

“This helps contain the damage. It doesn’t undo it,” he warned. “Make sure you’re clear on the difference.”

“I am.”

“Good.” He paused before adding, “Do you want the number for a divorce attorney I trust?”

It was a good thing I was stopped at a red light because his question stunned me. A divorce was the last thing I wanted.

“No,” I bit out. “This isn’t anything like when you and your ex split. I’m the one who fucked Laina over, and she’s not the kind of person to play games if she decides to walk away. It’d be pretty damn straightforward since there’s no prenup, no assets either of us owned before we got married, everything is communal property, and I’d give her spousal support for as long as she wants since I wouldn’t be half the success I am today without her.”

“Okay, I’ll be in touch.”

The call ended, and I drove the rest of the way to the studio wondering if I’d fucked up badly enough that my wife would want to end our marriage.

I’d never had a problem concentrating on rough cuts before, but my mind kept drifting to home, wondering what Laina and Lucy were doing while I was gone. If they were reconnecting now that they’d smoothed things over.

I hadn’t even considered working from my home office today, even though I had secure screening software on my laptop. Which was probably for the best because Laina had asked for space. That would’ve been the complete opposite.

I’d always come into the studio for this part because the professional-grade monitors and sound systems allowed me to spot minor visual glitches or audio issues that would’ve been easy to miss on my laptop.

And the editing bay was quiet except for the low hum of equipment, which was rarely the case at home with a teenage daughter.

I dropped into the chair in front of the monitors, the rough cut of episode six already loaded. I hit play and made notes on timing and a reaction shot that ran half a second too long. It wasn’t until I hit the pirate scene that I paused the cut and leaned back in the chair, filled with regret.

I’d always taken inspiration from people and events, but this was different. I had spent years turning pieces of my wife into material and then acted surprised when the exposure destroyed her sense of safety. Laina wouldn’t see herself in this scene, but it was the last time I would ever use anything she said or did for the basis of a scene for Sally or any other fictional character I created.

And if she ever let me back into her life in a real way, the old pattern couldn’t stay. I needed to be a better husband, father, and person in every way. Which included being home more. Paying attention to what my wife and daughter needed. Protecting them however and wherever I could. Like I should’ve been doing all along.

My work would always matter to me, just not more than the woman I loved. I’d never thought it had, but my actions said otherwise.

I finished the pass on the rough cut with less patience than usual, logged my notes, and sat for a moment in the quiet bay before shutting the system down.

The show would go on with or without me. But my marriage wouldn’t.

12

LAINA

“Are you sure you’re okay with me going to the mall?”

Lucy had been careful with me all morning, and as much as I loved her, the hovering was too much for me right now.

“Yes, sweetie.” I nudged her toward the door. “You need to get going. Shelly and her mom are waiting for you.”

“Okay, but if you want me to come back early, just text.”