39 Paris

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“We need you in the greenroom, Damon,” an intern of some sort tells me as he motions with his head toward the stage.

It’s been two month since the trial and - after my excursion to Paris and staying with my mum and sister for a while - I’m finally back to work. The trial only lasted a few days, but it took a while to sort afterward. Things are different, but everything takes some getting used to.

“I’m ready,” I tell him, standing and making my way toward him. We make our way to the greenroom easily and I wait for my cue to walk on.

When it comes, I put on a smile and stroll out onto the staged area.

“Damon!” Brikk’s voice boisterous as always as I kiss Gwyneth Paltrow on the cheek. When I get to him, he grabs my right hand with his right and pulls me into a hug with his left. It’s one of those awkward man hugs, but what can you expect? “How’ve you been?” he asks as we both take a seat.

Chuckling slightly, I shake my head, “Been better, mate.”

“We heard about the big court case. How terrible was it?” he genuinely looks interested as he prods for information that I haven’t spoken of yet.

“Well,” I sigh, starting in on the story. “The trial wasn’t long. It was pretty much to the point and everyone involved just wanted it over.” Pausing for a second, I turn to a camera, “And I want to thank everyone who supported me through the whole thing.” Turning back to the host, I explain, “There were people that stood outside the courthouse and held signs. I got letters and tweets and all kinds of stuff saying they supported me. It was madness. I really have the best fans. They made it easier, I’ll tell you that.”

“There are so many rumors as to what the actual verdict was. People are saying you left because you had to, others are saying you wanted to leave because you hate America. You’re divorced, you’re not divorced; everything is so up in the air right now,” Brikk encourages me by leaning forward on his desk. “No one’s talked to you or Topher since the whole thing happened.”

“I heard,” Gwyneth speaks next to me and shrugging a shoulder, “that you ran off to Africa with Angelina Jolie.”

Chuckling slightly, I scrunch my brows, “Did you?”

She smiles and tries to play it off as no big deal, “Yea, but it was from Brad Pitt and they were fighting. They can be such the dramatic pair.”

The audience, along with Brikk and myself, laugh at her joke. But once it quiets, the host gets back to business, “So tell us. We’re dying to know.”

“Well, it could have been worse,” I start, but shrug and continue, “but we only half won.”

“How so?”

“I’m legally an American citizen by blood. Unfortunately, there’s no denying my father. But, our marriage was annulled because they made it seem like a joke,” I explain, sighing afterward.

“You should have called me as a witness,” Brikk volunteers. “I would have socked it to them!” The audience chuckles and I give a smile. He really is a good guy. A big teddy bear, even. “So how is Topher dealing?”

Putting my head down a bit, I close my eyes, “I haven’t actually seen him in a month.”

When I bring my eyes back up, the man in front of me has huge eyes. Shock laces his features when he asks the next question, “Did you two break up?”

That’s when I’m a little shocked and sit up straighter to wave my hands, “No, no, no. Sorry,” I chuckle a bit as Brikk seems to breathe easier. “I just meant we’ve been in different countries. He’s finishing a movie in France and I was in England for a while. I apologize,” holding my hands up in surrender I look to the audience, “I didn’t mean to scare anyone.”

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