“Ow!” I winced.
“I won’t let go,” Ryan muttered. He helped me take a step. “Do you want me to carry you?” he whispered.
“No,” I groaned and shuffled a few steps. I didn’t want the photographers to capture that he had to carry me and give them more reason to create new lies.
Kyle pushed past Mike and got right into Ryan’s face. “Are you happy, Christensen? Now that one of your fans almost killed her?”
Mike quickly turned and intervened, blocking Kyle in the chest with his hands. “Hey, back off! Cool it, Kyle!”
“When is enough enough Taryn?” Kyle cried out. Mike and another guard scuffled with Kyle, pulling him back.
Ryan turned to deal with Kyle; the anger on Ryan’s face was evident.
“Ryan?” I breathed out from the pain, diverting his attention back to me. “Honey, just get me inside, please. Please?”
I wanted Ryan to stay focused and ignore Kyle’s accusations. Having Ryan miserable and brooding would be no help to anyone, especially me. I clutched Ryan’s arm with my hand and leaned into his chest as he carefully led me to the door.
Ryan was only able to stay with me four more hours before he had to catch a flight and return to the set in Florida. He couldn’t hold up production any longer; this film was a multi-million dollar investment just to shoot. He had already been away for three days.
It felt like another whole section of my heart was torn away when he left. It didn’t matter that he called me every few hours.
Ryan’s mom insisted on taking care of me for a few days and Marie was in and out of the apartment twenty times a day as well. I was wondering when they both would get sick of watching me cry. My doctor finally prescribed antidepressants to help me cope.
Everyone in our inner circle knew that I had lost a baby. It only took three days after my discharge from the hospital for the rest of the world to be informed of the same. The media had a field day when the news broke. Speculation of my pregnancy stemmed from the fact that my room was in the neo-natal wing of the hospital, but then was confirmed by some hospital informants who wished to remain anonymous. Those informants conveniently included the fact that I had lost the baby I was carrying…Ryan Christensen’s illegitimate child.
Ryan’s Publicist released a statement that stated I was hit by a car while crossing the street and that no one was at fault for the accident. Every branch of the media also ended that same story with a blurb that his reps neither confirm nor deny the pregnancy rumors.Marla even made a special phone call to remind me to keep my mouth shut. Well, she didn’t exactly say those words but that was the message she delivered. I was tempted to tell her where she could shove her “public image management.”
My employees were also given gag orders and were reminded not to speak publicly to anyone about anything.
It was soon after that when Ryan and I had our first major fight over the phone, and his mom was sitting in the same room with me when it happened.
“What the hell did you say to Marla?” Ryan barked in my ear. “She informed me that she will no longer be speaking directly to you.”
“Marla can go to Hell,” I replied. “She’s worthless in my book.”
“Taryn! She’s my Publicist! I’ve had her for years now.”
I huffed. “Ryan! She’s so damn worried that I might speak to anyone about my accident but yet she keeps allowing all those rumors about you having an affair with Lauren going? Oh, and what about the reports of you calling Suzanne to cry on her shoulder? I don’t see her doing anything to squelch those lies either so I let her know how I felt.”
“What is she supposed to do?” he raised his voice to me again.
“She should do her damn job! She’s supposed to protect your reputation, right? And now she also represents me?”
“You don’t know what you’re talking about. She can’t stop what’s printed,” he snapped back.
“Like hell she can’t! It took her no time at all to put out a public statement pretty much shading over the fact that I’m an imbecile who crossed a street without looking both ways, but she doesn’t have anything to say about your supposed affairs? How about a big freaking public statement that says Ryan Christensen is not sleeping with Lauren Delaney or Suzanne Strass?”
“She won’t do that,” he said flatly. “And don’t you dare ask her to do that either.”
“Why?” The tears from his betrayal came to my eyes.
“Because controversy is what’s going to sell tickets.”