said, “In fact, I wouldn’t have believed it was possible, but you’re even more beautiful than you were in high school.”
Madison felt her cheeks blush with the compliment, the traitors. She didn’t want to care about how he saw her. She wouldn’t care about him again, ever. He was the past , she reminded herself as the waitress approached.
“Can I bring you something to drink sir?” a waitress asked, nodding at Madison. She was glad the young woman hadn’t acted star-struck. They trained the staff to be star-agnostic. It was important for decorum and privacy and the resort’s reputation as a leading hotel for the rich and famous.
“Yes, please, a beer, whatever you recommend,” he said and she was off.
Madison was waiting for Josh to say something else, but he had turned his head and was watching the ocean. She did likewise, admiring, as always, the rock formations so spectacular in the afternoon sunlight. After the waitress delivered the beer, and departed, Josh held his beer in his hand and said, “To us. To the good memories we shared.”
Madison picked up her iced tea glass and tapped it against his bottle. “We did. But those times were short compared to a lifetime of your betrayal,” she said, turning back to face the ocean so he could not see the tears springing to her eyes.
“That was scripted. It was for ratings, and for television. It didn’t mean anything. Laura didn’t mean anything,” Josh said. He reached out and touched her shoulder, but she pulled it away.
“If it didn’t mean anything, I could have been in on it. You could have told me what the director was planning. ‘Hey, Holly, they’re going to shoot this so it looks like I’m cheating on you but I’m really not.’ Something like that Josh,” she said, pulling her dark sunglasses down to cover her now tear-filled eyes. How could senior year in high school still hurt this much, she wondered. Why can he still get to me?
“I am sorry. You never gave me the chance to explain, to talk,” he said.
“You asked Laura to prom. That pretty much told me everything I needed to know. Senior prom. I was such a fool. Always will be thanks to streaming video,” Madison said. She took a sip of her tea and pushed her chair back away from the table and stood.
“Please, don’t go,” he said, standing quickly and grabbing her arm. Despite herself, she felt a chill run down her spine. “Let’s go for a walk. We owe it to each other to talk about this. It could be our only chance. It’s been fifteen years.”
“It’s not going to change anything,” Madison said as Josh removed his sunglasses. He was so handsome, so present it seemed, but she tried to remind herself that he was an actor. His eyes seemed to be tear-dampened, too, but he probably learned that technique in acting classes.
Josh smiled, the dimple , caught her eye and softened her heart. No matter how angry she still was at him, she still felt the spark of chemistry.
“Fine,” she said, crossing her arms in front of her and leading the way across the restaurant. She could feel the eyes of the other diners on them, and the hush that comes over a room when people think a celebrity is in their presence. She supposed Josh was accustomed to it by now, but the whole thing made her feel sick, bringing back the awful memories of the show. She felt like screaming: “Fame is fleeting. It ruins people and relationships. It’s not real, even though they called it that.” But instead she walked quickly past the pool and down the stairs to the manicured lawn at the edge of the ocean - the lawn where she’d hosted plenty of group events, the lawn where Josh and his entourage would have cocktails before dinner tomorrow night. She pulled off her pumps and felt the cool grass on the bottoms of her feet and sighed.
“You walk fast in those things,” he said, coming up beside her and nudging her shoulder - a move she was familiar with from their days together, a move that