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any hint of jealousy or envy in Eloise’s voice, but it wasn’t there.

      ‘She was. We got a flat together to start with, but then she met this guy. She’d won a part on a TV show, and he was one of the other actors. She was crazy about him. But he wasn’t a good guy. I couldn’t put my finger on exactly what it was about him, but I knew he was wrong for Sally.’

      ‘What happened?’ Eloise asked. ‘And when did you realise you were in love with her?’

      Noah sighed. It said something about his levels of emotional understanding that, even seven years later, Eloise knew after five minutes what it had taken Noah years of friendship to realise.

      ‘I think I was always in love with her. Right from the day we met, back at grade school.’ She’d walked straight up to him, stuck out her hand and said, ‘I’m Sally. You’re my new best friend.’ And that was all it took. ‘But I guess when we hit high school, I realised it for real.’

      ‘And you didn’t do anything about it?’ Eloise asked, surprise clear in her voice.

      ‘I wasn’t Noah Cross, Film Star then, remember. I was nothing. And Sally...she was all I had. The only person in town who understood me—who I was, what I wanted, what mattered to me. I couldn’t risk losing that.’ The idea of her walking away because she didn’t feel the same way had been far too terrifying for him to take the chance.

      ‘So what changed? I mean, I assume something did.’

      ‘Yeah. She moved out of our flat and into his house, and I realised I’d missed my chance.’ He’d waited too long and he’d lost her. It had felt like the end of the world—until he’d learned what real loss meant. ‘But I figured she was happy, so I should be happy for her. But then she showed up one day with a black eye and I knew I had to get her out of there.’

      Eloise stayed silent but her arms tightened ever so slightly around him. He put his hand over hers and squeezed. Even after all this time, the horror he’d felt as he’d seen the bruises marring Sally’s perfect skin could still make him feel sick to his stomach.

      ‘I took her home and we talked. She told me it had been going on for months. I couldn’t believe I hadn’t noticed. I still can’t.’ He dipped his head, hiding his eyes from hers. She didn’t need to see the shame in them. The guilt. He’d been so busy thinking about himself—about how he felt, what he’d lost, his own emotional turmoil—that he’d missed what was right in front of him and let the woman he loved get hurt. ‘She agreed to leave him. And then...’

      ‘You told her how you felt,’ Eloise guessed when he didn’t continue.

      ‘Yeah.’ The feelings were all coming back now, whether he wanted them or not. Those deep, hidden feelings that he’d locked up for so long, because he knew what came next. Knew he couldn’t have all that hope and that happiness without the pain that followed. ‘Sally...she told me she thought she might feel the same, or that she could one day. We kissed and, just for that brief moment, everything was perfect.’ He stopped, just wanting one more moment of that peace, without the fear that snapped at its heels. They lay together in the quiet of the room, listening to the sounds of the hen and stag parties still going on downstairs, and for a moment Noah believed that could be the end of the story.

      But then Eloise broke the silence. ‘I almost don’t want to ask what happened next. But I think I have to.’

      With a sigh, Noah pulled away, out of her embrace. Sitting up on the edge of the bed, he stayed facing away from her as he spoke, every word cutting through him as it formed on his lips. ‘We agreed to take it slow. We’d already waited so long, and we had our whole future together to figure it all out. The next day, she went back to his house to pack up her stuff while I was out at a call-back audition. I asked her to wait until I could go too, but she wanted to get it done. He was supposed to be at work but...

      ‘I got the part—my first big movie role. I raced home to tell Sally, but when I got there the flat was empty. And then the police called.’

      There was a rustle of sheets and then Eloise’s body was pressed up against his from behind, her warmth flooding through him as she pressed kisses against his shoulders. But those kisses couldn’t erase the guilt he carried every day. He should have been there—not just that day, but every day before that. He should have been looking outwards, not inwards. He should have been there for her.

      But he wasn’t.

      ‘He’d beaten her. So hard she’d blacked out, they think. And when she fell...her head cracked open on the corner of the table. She died in moments.’

      ‘Oh, Noah, I’m so sorry.’ Eloise spoke against his skin, holding him tight to her. ‘So, so sorry.’

      They were just words, Noah knew. They couldn’t fix anything. Couldn’t heal the searing pain that had cut through him that day and never fully gone away. His scar tissue might not show on the outside, but it was still there and he felt it pull most days.

      But the thing about scar tissue was that it healed thick and hard, and painless. He might feel the tug around it, like healthy skin, but the dead area—his ability to love, to feel those deeper emotions—they didn’t hurt at all.

      They couldn’t.

      So he didn’t look inwards, not any more. He looked outwards—to easy, casual relationships, to films that focused more on explosions than feelings. And he pushed the guilt and the sorrow down beneath that scar tissue and pretended they weren’t there.

      Until he’d met Eloise, and read a script that could change his career. And now all those emotions he’d sworn not to feel again were bubbling up, filling him, and he knew he had to beat them back down before they destroyed him.

      He couldn’t waste emotion on himself. If he had to feel, it would be as a character—safe in another person’s fictional life, where the emotions couldn’t hurt him. If he felt that pain at all, let it be for the part, for his career. Because Noah Cross didn’t deserve to feel any of those things—love, loss, hope—ever again.

      ‘I know I can’t say anything,’ Eloise whispered, close to his ear. ‘I know I can’t fix it. But I’m sorry. And whatever you need right now—distance, alcohol, whatever. Just say. I can give it.’

      There was only one way to forget, Noah had found, and that was to drown out the memories. Alcohol helped, so did work. But the best thing was sitting naked in bed beside him.

      He turned, sweeping her into his arms in one fast movement. ‘You,’ he murmured against the skin of her neck. ‘Let me have you again. Let me forget.’

      Eloise nodded, and he bore her down to the bed again, determined to block out the emotions once more.

      He’d use them, if he had to. But not as himself. He’d save it all for the part.

      He could give Eloise his body, even his memories, but that was all.

      Everything else, he’d already given up.

       CHAPTER ELEVEN

      ELOISE WOKE EARLY, after nowhere near enough sleep to deal with the day ahead. Beside her, Noah slumbered on, one arm wrapped loosely around her waist. She twisted onto her side to look at him, his face peaceful in repose.

      In the early morning light, still grey and cold as the sun just started to peep over the horizon, it was hard to imagine all the secrets and wounds they’d shared the night before. After his confession, Noah had made love to her like a man possessed. A man driving out his demons, she supposed.

      Did he blame himself for Sally’s death? She suspected so, even if he knew intellectually it wasn’t his fault. Guilt and grief had a funny way of twisting things in a person’s mind.

      She felt a tug, somewhere in her middle. A compulsion to try and fix him, to help him feel again. Not just to get some movie role, but because

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