“Yeah. Except I then had a two-hour drive here in traffic to realize I was hurting anyway.” One hand held hers; the other absently rubbed his chest. “And this time I’d done it to myself,” he said.

Technically he’d done it last time, too. He’d broken up with her then as well, Sasha thought. But she’d deserved it the first go-round. She hadn’t taken his feelings into consideration too many times. Now things were different. Or she’d thought they were.

He met her gaze. “I also hurt you, and I’m so sorry.” His contrite expression told her so much about his feelings but nothing about the future.

She sighed, a lot of the anger she’d felt deflating in the face of his heartfelt explanation and apology, but her heart was still bruised because too many things remained unresolved.

“Listen, I made some decisions that you should know about,” she said, shifting herself back against the pillows until she was more comfortable. “And you would have known yesterday if you’d stuck around or at least listened to what I had to say.”

He watched her warily. “Go on.”

“I turned down the role, and when Rebecca came back in to see me again after you left, pushing harder, I fired her.” His shocked expression was priceless but she wasn’t finished. “If she could push me to make a decision on a huge new deal while I was in the hospital with a concussion, after being attacked, she does not have my best interests at heart.”

“Amen,” he muttered.

She would have smirked but she was still mad at him. “I told you at one point, just like I told Cassidy before we came to New York, that I was tired and the acting and travel and constant jump from role to role wasn’t what I wanted. The idea of being a famous actress was instilled in me by my mother from such a young age, I never considered the downside or what else I might want to do. I didn’t have a life, and being with you cemented the fact that I want one.”

She curled her hand more tightly around his.

Meanwhile, he was watching her carefully, taking in her words and her expressions. She sensed his coiled tension and surprise. They’d had so much to talk about and no conclusions had been reached yet.

But she was getting there. It just remained to be seen if he was on board.

“What about your mother?” he asked.

“I called her this morning. She hit the roof, as expected. I actually feel sorry for the friends she’s with on vacation. But she’ll process and come around eventually. As much as I hate to say it, she needs me.”

“Your money?” he asked through gritted teeth.

“In part. But she loves me, too. Once she faces that I’m serious about my plans, she’ll come around.”