Page 38 of Secrets in the Deep

It wasn’t a mistake. But that wasn’t what had him remaining rooted to the spot. It was the other stuff.

Had she called him? Had she texted? Why the hell hadn’t he gotten them? And how different would things be if he had?

9

Emily stared at the blank screen of her phone on the vanity table. Her room at the inn was quiet. Had been quiet all afternoon.

How long had she been sitting here, stuck in her head?

Too long.

Two days had passed since the first night shoot. They’d reshot the scene the next evening and, by some miracle, Roscoe had accepted it. How, exactly, she had no idea. She’d been distracted the entire time. Which wasn’t like her at all. When she worked, she threw everything into the character she played. Shewasthe character.

But this phone stuff…it was all she could think about.

She lifted her cell and clicked into Ryan’s contact details. Five years had passed since she’d last used this number. Five years since she’d lain in that hospital bed, wondering if she’d ever be able to use her left knee again. She’d been upset. Hurting. And she’d called him.

God, she could remember that moment so well, sitting in that bed, tears in her eyes as she waited for him to pick up.

But he didn’t.

She’d sent text messages asking him to call. But he’d never gotten back to a single one of them. No calls. No texts. Just silence.

But according to him…hehadcalled her. He’d texted.

And she believed him. Because Ryan was lots of things, but he wasn’t a liar.

Against her better judgment, she hit his name and put the call on speaker.

The phone rang. Then it rang some more. She was about to hang up when someone picked up.

“Hello, Matteo speaking.”

She frowned at the male voice. “Hi, um, sorry…have you had this number long?”

There was a second of silence where she wrinkled her nose at her ridiculous question. Then finally, he answered. “Um, four years. Why? Who are you?”

“No one. Sorry.” Quickly, she hung up.

Her gaze returned to her phone again. Had Ryan changed his number?

The door to her room suddenly swung open, and her mother waltzed in, room card in hand.

“Would you believe there’s no sushi in this town?” Her mother huffed as she crossed the room to open the closed windows. “I swear, if I have to eat another of those pancakes drenched in butter, I’m going to drop dead from high cholesterol.” She moved to the other window.

“Mom, I need to ask you something.”

“If it’s how long until we get the hell out of here, I have no idea.” She opened the window. “Roscoe keeps pushing the schedule back. I actually think he’s turning senile. I can see why his last few movies have been flops.”

“It’s not that.”

“Oh.” Finally, her mother stopped moving and set her hands on her hips. “What?”

Emily watched her mother carefully in the mirror, choosing her next words carefully. “When I woke up in the hospital five years ago, the first thing I asked was, ‘Did you call Ryan?’”

Her mother frowned. “Why are you?—”

“You told me you did.”