imagine why,” Zach said, and she snorted. Then her eyes met his. “It was a damn good run, you know? I had a career most people can only dream about, and God knows I never expected.” Half smiling, she squinted back at the forest. “And no matter what happens from here on out, nobody can take that away from me.”
After some moments, she heard Zach sigh. “I know what you mean. All the good stuff...it really is ours forever, isn’t it?”
“It really is,” she said softly.
“Do you miss it?”
Mallory met his gaze again. “Sometimes. All the insanity that goes with it?” She shrugged. “Not so much. And I don’t only mean what actually goes into making a film. That has its moments, sure. Magical ones, actually, when suddenly a scene comes together...” She smiled. “There’s a reason I kept doing it. Well, other than the fact that I had absolutely no skill for anything else. Aside from barrel racing, that is. But the world of movie-making...it can be hard. And weirdly far less real at times than the make-believe one up on the screen. Even so, I’ll admit to wishing the decision to quit had been mine.”
He leaned one hand against an apple tree trunk, glancing up into the tangled branches before facing her again.
“And now?”
Was it strange, that she understood exactly what he was asking? “It’s funny—at first I worried that after everything I’d worked for, I’d fade into oblivion. That it’d be as though I’d never existed. Then I found myself hoping people would lose interest, move on to the next thing. And yes, you do start to feel like a thing. A commodity. When that didn’t happen, I realized all I wanted was to be left alone to deal with my life in peace. But mostly for Landon to be left alone to live his.”
“That why you left him with his dad?”
There was no censure in his voice. At least none that she could hear. And certainly she saw nothing but compassion in those gentle blue eyes, so calm and steady behind his glasses. Then a short, dry laugh escaped his lips.
“Sorry, what was that I said about people getting up in your business—?”
“It’s okay. And actually it feels good to talk about it.”
“You sound surprised.”
“It’s not something I usually do. Only child and all that.”
“No friends?”
“Other than my mother? Not really, no.”
Still leaning on the tree trunk, Zach shoved his other hand in his pocket, his gaze tangling up with hers so hard she lost her breath. “So tell me about Landon. If you want to, I mean.”
At least, that’s what Mallory thought he’d said. Hard to tell through the buzzing between her ears. Jeebus. In a few short sentences, this stranger had offered more of himself, been more accepting of her, than Russell had over their entire relationship. She’d had no idea they even made men like that.
And hellz, yeah, you better believe she was going to take advantage of it.
“Leaving him behind was the hardest thing I’ve ever done,” she said over the lump in her throat. “But all the attention was really beginning to take its toll on the kid. Especially as he got older. The paparazzi never left us alone. Never. It was ridiculous—I have no idea what they thought they would see, what I’d do that would’ve been even remotely interesting, let alone fascinating. But wherever we went, there they were. No matter how much I tried to evade them.”
“That sucks.”
“You’re telling me. Even if Landon didn’t say anything, I could tell how hard it was on him.” A huge sigh pushed from her lungs. “What I said before, about only wanting him to feel normal? That’s all I’d ever wanted for him, even before all this. So his dad and I decided it would be best for him if I removed myself for a while.”
“Did you consider taking him with you instead?” he asked gently.
“Of course. But the kid’s life is there. Friends, activities...” She smiled. “His dad. Who can’t leave the scene. Or doesn’t think he can. And directors aren’t sexy from a gossip perspective. Seriously, how often do you see Steven Spielberg or Ron Howard’s picture on the front page of The National Enquirer? I was much more intriguing, in a let’s-all-pity-the-gimp kind of way. And I’m allowed to say that, being the gimp and all.”
“And your boy’s happier?”
“I think—hope—he’s at least more...at peace. And honestly? I’m still questioning whether I made the right choice. But it was the only one I felt I could. I’d do anything for that kid. Anything. I’m sure you know what that’s like.”
His lips barely curved. “All too well.”
Mallory smiled back, then released another sigh. “At least Landon knows it’s not permanent, that it’s kind of like when I’d go on location and he’d stay behind, or only come visit from time to time. As much as he remembers that. If all goes well, the sharks will move on to other feeding grounds and I’ll be able to return undetected. In the meantime we talk at least once a day, if not more. I haven’t abandoned my child. Even if it sometimes feels like I have.”
At that, she saw something new in his expression. Almost...annoyance, if she had to name it. Not that she was surprised. No matter how many knots she twisted herself into trying to explain, she doubted few people would understand. Then he reached up and twisted a Gala apple off a nearby tree, holding it out. “Want one? I can’t guarantee it won’t be mealy, this time of year, but—”
So she’d gotten the wrong end of the stick, maybe? “No, thanks, got a whole bowlful inside. And the ones we’ve eaten so far have been perfect. Tart and sweet at the same time.”
“Like memories,” Zach said quietly, frowning at the apple for a moment before taking a bite.
“I suppose so, yes.”
Not looking at her, he chewed for a moment, then nodded, wiping a trickle of juice on his sleeve. “You’re right.” He waved the apple at her. “Perfect.”
“Then please take some home with you, there’s no way we’ll ever eat them all.”
“I might do that. Thanks.” He took another bite, then said, “I should probably go.”
“Ah.”
Zach frowned. “What?”
“We talk about why I left my son behind and two minutes later you suddenly need to leave?”
“No,” he said slowly, “it occurred to me we’ve left my rambunctious boys with your mother, who’s probably more than ready to be rescued by now.”
“Really?”
The frown deepened. “You don’t seriously think I’m judging you?”
“I think it’d be weird if you weren’t.”
“Call me weird, then. Mallory...nobody can truly know what they’d do in someone else’s shoes, but it’s obvious you didn’t make that decision lightly. Or that you were only thinking of yourself. You’re only doing the best you can. Same as every other parent in the world. And something else—whether Landon fully understands it or not right now, you’ve set an example of how the best choice isn’t always the easiest. In fact, it rarely is.”
It was several moments before she could speak. “Wow.”
He shrugged. “Something I remember my parents drumming into us. Just thought I’d share.”
Mallory smiled. “My daddy used to say the same thing, actually. So...thanks. But please don’t feel you have to leave on my mother’s account. When she’s had her fill of little boys—” she wagged her phone “—she’ll let me know. Trust me, that woman is in hog heaven right now. And your boys probably