The Prop That Shattered My Famous Secret Lover

Start Reading

I was so deep in character during the final scene that I instinctively shoved the prop Termination of Pregnancy Consent Form into my jacket pocket.

Back at my condo, Kellan Maxwell, my A-list actor boyfriendwhose relationship with me was strictly classifiedfound the paper while hanging up my coat.

His voice was hoarse, grated with sand: "When?"

I thought he was asking when filming wrapped:

"Just this afternoon. It was quick, honestly. Barely felt a thing, and then it was over."

The light in Kellans eyes instantly went out. He staggered backward, collapsing onto the sofa.

The next day, I left for a locked-down period-piece shoot.

When I finally emerged, the rumor mill was churning. Kellan had canceled all his projects.

He had spent weeks at a remote monastic retreat, performing a silent vigil for a lost soulfor a child who never drew breath.

I hadn't even managed to take off my heels when Kellan Maxwell's warm, mint-scented kiss found me, his arms locking around my waist in a tight, possessive hold.

Normally, faced with Kellan's demanding affection, I'd happily go three hundred rounds.

But not today.

I was fresh off a month-long shoot, exhausted, and desperately needed a hot shower.

"Stop, please..." I turned my head, dodging his lips. "I think my spine is fractured. Have mercy."

Kellan froze. The playful, sultry look in his eyes instantly morphed into one of sharp concern.

"That bad?"

"The worst."

I let out a groan as I shrugged out of my heavy coat and shoved it into his arms.

"Hang this up, would you? I'm hitting the makeup wipes."

I headed straight for the bathroom.

Behind me, I heard the rustle of fabric. Kellan always took care of the laundry and dry cleaning. He was already efficiently hanging my coat, his hands instinctively checking the pockets.

The shower was running, and I was squeezing a pump of cleansing oil onto my palm, working on the waterproof mascara, when Kellans voice cut through the running water.

It was barely a whisper, yet it carried an unnatural tremor.

"Cassidy, when did this happen?"

My eyes were closed, my face slick with oil. I assumed he was asking about my final scene.

"Just this afternoon. It was quick, honestly. Didn't feel a thing, and then it was over."

I'd expected the closing scene to be brutal, but it had gone surprisingly well, which was why I was home early.

"...Did it hurt?"

I felt a little warmth in my chest. Id been in a wire harness for over an hour that day. It had definitely hurt, but complaining was unprofessional.

So I answered casually:

"Not really. A bit sore at the time, I guess, but I'm fine now. Totally numb."

I hadn't noticed the rain that had started outside. The mist on the glass blurred the warm light in the room.

The air outside the bathroom door thickened and hardened.

Kellan's voice trembled again, lower this time:

"...Why didn't you tell me?"

Oh, here we go. The man was sulking. Was he really upset that I hadn't given him a heads-up about wrapping early?

I rolled my eyes.

"Kellan, it was a tiny thing. Why would I call you? Half the crew was still there. Were supposed to be keeping things on the low, remember?"

With that, I shut the bathroom door, ready to start my long-awaited bath.

I was just sinking into the tub when I heard a soft knock.

"Cass?"

I swished the water. "What now?"

Silence for a beat.

"Don't run the water too hot. It's not good for your system. And... don't soak too long. You might get dizzy."

"I know, I know. God, youre turning into such a nag."

He didn't reply to my complaint.

But I heard the low murmur of his phone call outside.

"...If she gets chilled... what meds should I have on hand... Yes, I know she's healthy, but we have to be careful..."

I just assumed he was calling his overly cautious family doctor on my behalf.

I didnt see Kellan hang up, walk to the thermostat, and quietly raise the condo temperature by two degrees.

When I finally emerged, clean and in a soft robe, Kellan was sitting motionless on the sofa, like a marble statue.

The reading lamp cast a long, lonely shadow behind him. He looked like a small child whod been utterly abandoned by the world.

Kellan was a method actor. Sometimes he'd get deep into a script and drift off into his own world. I didn't worry about it.

I couldn't worry about it. I was leaving the next morning for a remote, highly demanding period piece.

While toweling my hair, I wrestled my massive suitcase onto the floor and started packing.

I was mentally running through my pre-dawn schedule as I stuffed clothes into the case.

Kellan watched my frantic activity, several times parting his lips as if to speak, then snapping them shut.

Finally, as I reached for the zipper, he pressed his hand over mine.

"Cassidy."

"Do you absolutely have to leave tomorrow?"

"You haven't recovered yet..."

I stared at him, bewildered. "What are you talking about? Im perfectly fine. I'm a rock star."

"Besides, the entire crew is waiting for me to show up. Hundreds of people. If I back out now, its a breach of contract. Do you know how much the penalty is?"

"Ill pay it." The words flew out of him. "Just stay home for a few days. Rest. Please."

I frowned, looking at him incredulously.

"Kellan, what is wrong with you today?"

"Youre the one who always told me an actor must have integrity, and you honor your contracts! And again, Im fine. I'm full of energy. I don't need 'rest' like some delicate flower."

Kellans face went instantly, horrifyingly pale, as if I had slapped him across the mouth.

I didn't understand his expression; I just felt he was being unusually clingy and difficult.

I stood up straight, snapping the lock on the suitcase.

"Besides, you were the one who pushed me to focus on my career. Now that Im finally getting some traction, are you trying to keep me locked away like a gilded cage doll?"

That phrase seemed to break something in him. Kellan stumbled back half a step, dropping heavily onto the sofa.

He looked up at me, his eyes shattered.

"It... it was me who told you to focus on your career."

He let out a terrible, choked sound that was not quite a laugh and not quite a sob. "I was wrong."

I turned away to wheel the suitcase out of the way, not paying his whispered words any mind.

I was exhausted from the long day, and packing had finished me off. I was asleep the second my head hit the pillow.

But I woke up, groggy, to the familiar scent of Kellan's minty body wash.

I was leaving tomorrow. Two months was a long time. The thought of the separation made me feel a little reckless.

I rolled over and snuggled into his chest, my hand wandering under the hem of his pajama top.

"Kellan..."

My voice was a soft, sleepy purr, and I lifted my chin, searching for his lips.

The next second, my whole body went rigid.

Kellan had pushed me away.

It was a gentle move, but the refusal was absolute and unmistakable.

He pressed my errant hand against the sheet.

"Don't, Cass. Sleep."

I pouted. "Im leaving tomorrow. We won't see each other for weeks. And thats your reaction?"

The Kellan I knew would have consumed me already. Tonight, he was rigid, acting like some kind of saint.

He retreated slightly, pulling the duvet up to my chin, tucking me in so tightly only my eyes were visible.

"Listen to me."

In the dark, his gaze was heavy.

"Your body hasn't fully recovered. We can't risk it."

I frowned.

"Im tired, sure, but youre actually rejecting me?"

"Don't expect me to be this eager next time, Kellan!"

"Please. Just behave."

There was a desperate plea in his voice.

I narrowed my eyes at him. This man was truly off-kilter tonight.

Fine, Kellan Maxwell. Maybe youre bored of me.

"Whatever! Who cares!"

I huffed, rolling onto my side with my back to him, pulling the comforter over my head.

"Good! Sleep! Don't touch me!"

A single, heavy sigh sounded behind me.

That night, Kellan Maxwell did not sleep.

He lay there, staring at the ceiling, looking at Cassidy, who was sulking next to him.

His heart felt as if an invisible hand were squeezing it, wringing it out until only pain remained.

He didn't dare close his eyes.

Every time he did, he saw the crumpled, clinical form: Termination of Pregnancy Consent.

He remembered an afternoon two months prior.

The sunlight was perfect, catching the fine downy hairs on her cheek as she scrolled through videos on his lap.

Suddenly, she held the phone up to his face.

On the screen was a little girl in a pink dress.

Cassidy's eyes were shining.

"Kellan, look! Isn't she the cutie? Who do you think our kid would look like?"

She tilted her head, her face full of a heartbreaking, naive hope for the future.

"I hope the features are yours, but the expression is mine."

Kellan had sighed, a weary smile touching his lips. He loved her, and because he loved her, he knew the ruthless nature of their business.

"Cass, you're still young."

"This industry is brutal for actresses. You have maybe a decade in your prime. If you take a year off to have a baby, the market forgets you instantly."

"I don't want you to regret it latergiving up your chance to be brilliant and unforgettable just to be a mom."

He had analyzed the pros and cons, calmly and logically.

"You have the fire, the talent. You shouldn't slow down this soon. As for kids... can we talk about it later?"

The light in Cassidy's eyes dimmed noticeably.

Right. He was the massive star, the A-lister with the career on fire. He wasn't ready to be a father.

She masked her disappointment quickly, throwing him a brittle smile.

"God, don't look so serious. I was just making conversation."

Now, Kellan buried his face in his hands, a groan escaping his throat. He was a monster.

What if she had already been pregnant then?

Her casual questionwas it a test? Was she waiting for him to say: I want a baby with you, or I can't wait for our child to look just like you?

But his cold, pragmatic response told her everything she needed to know.

Kellan couldn't bear to imagine it. What must it have been like for her to go through thatalone? To come home and say it was "quick" and she "barely felt a thing"?

He knew her. The more casually she dismissed it, the more deeply she was hurting inside.

The regret that burned in his chest was a wildfire.

He looked at Cassidy, whose brow was furrowed slightly even in sleep.

His hand shook as he reached out to touch her cheek, then stopped inches away, terrified of disturbing her fragile rest.

Finally, he settled his arm in a stiff, protective curve around her empty stomach.

He spent the long, endless night internally condemning himself.

I killed our child.

I am the one who killed the only family we had.

Hours later, Kellan sat up.

He opened the private chat group he shared with a few childhood friends.

[Kellan Maxwell: My child is gone.]