Page 102 of A Very Happy Easter

Marissa picked up a bottle of whisky and passed it to Owen, who passed it to Serena, who passed it to Marc. He poured a generous measure and slugged it back. Yikes.

“There’s no chance of you getting back together?” Marissa asked.

“I haven’t seen her in a decade, and our lifestyles are ‘no longer compatible.’” He used little air quotes. “Plus she’s a master at avoiding me.”

“Did you try writing her a letter?”

“Many, many letters. She never replies.”

“It was a difficult breakup?”

“Impossible. We both did what we thought was best, which turned out to be the wrong thing.” Another sigh. “We grew up in small-town Nebraska, and Phae’s older brother was my best friend. Their father was everything that can be wrong with a man. Manipulative, abusive, misogynistic, and cruel, even from beyond the grave. Phae had to serve three years in the military to fulfil some bullshit inheritance condition, and that’s when I moved to LA.”

“Long-distance relationships can be hard,” Serena said sympathetically.

“It wasn’t the distance that broke us; it was our jobs. If I could turn back the clock, I’d say to hell with Hollywood and follow Phae to the ends of the earth.”

“Where is she now?” Owen asked. “You didn’t try to get in touch again after she left the military? I realise I’m hardly the right person to harp on about the importance of communication, but…”

“As far as I know, she’s still in the US Army.”

“What about the three years?” Liam asked.

“She got selected to join a new unit, and she wanted us to move to North Carolina. I’d just been offered an insane amount of money to star in The Skies Below, and I didn’t think we could afford for me to turn it down. A million bucks would have set us up for life.”

Guilt washed over me because there’d never been any question that I’d inherit a small fortune. Money would never be a factor in any decision I made, and if twenty-something Marc had looked as miserable as thirty-something Marc did today, I’d have written him a cheque to take the pain away.

“She didn’t want you to take the role?”

He shook his head.

“But she must have known you’d gone to Hollywood to act?”

“I didn’t.”

“You…didn’t?”

“I was supposed to go to New York, but that fell through, and Abundance didn’t feel like home without her there. A high-school buddy needed a roommate in San Pedro, so I decided I’d go there and paint for a while.”

“You paint?” Serena asked, surprised.

“Not anymore. I figured I should aim for a more stable career, so I signed up for a business course at community college. Took a few walk-on roles to pay for tuition, got spotted larking around on set at one of the big studios, and the rest is available to read on my Wikipedia page. Is there any more whisky?”

“Is that a good idea?”

“Probably not.” He reached for the gin instead. “So, that’s me. And might I say how fucking depressing it is being the only single person in a room full of loved-up couples.”

“I’m sorry love got away from you.” I reached out to squeeze his hand. “Really, I am. Does speaking about Phae help? Or would you rather not?”

Gin slopped over the edge of the glass. Uh-oh. Thankfully, Serena slid the drink away, tipped three-quarters of it into a plant pot, and topped up the remainder with tonic.

“I…” Marc’s brow creased. No Botox for him. “There’s never usually anyone I can speak about her with.”

I understood then. I truly did. Heath said Marc often stayed with Serena and Owen when he was in town, and I’d wondered why he didn’t take up residence in a ritzy hotel instead, but now I realised that for him, friendship was a luxury he rarely got to experience.

“Being alone on top of the world must be an incredibly bleak existence.”

The rest of the room fell away, and Marc focused on me.