They call for everyone to take their places. The script didn’t say anything about where to stand, so I have to let Makayla direct me to a spot just a few inches away from her. Not going to complain about that.
I focus on Makayla, letting the lines become reality as I recite the character’s feelings for Makayla’s character. I talk about how I’ve loved her even though I haven’t always made the right choices or shown it in the right ways. I listen when she tells me how scared the thought of loving me makes her, how wrong it seems, but how she still wants it more than anything. And then we kiss.
The scene goes by in a blur, and when the director calls cut in a hushed voice I feel my heart beating fast. I never thought I would enjoy acting. Hell, I never thought I would enjoy much of anything except fucking, fighting, and drinking after the war. But there’s a thrill to working through the scene, and if it gives me one more excuse to kiss Makayla, it can’t be that bad.
There’s a delayed round of applause from the crew. I look to Makayla in confusion. They don’t normally clap after a scene. She squeals with excitement and cups my cheeks, standing on her tiptoes to kiss me. “You were amazing!”
Camillo approaches, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. “It doesn’t normally work this way. There’s paperwork, auditions, blah blah blah. But I want you for this part. The contract is yours if you want it.”
44
Makayla
I lean into Jesse’s shoulder, watching the TV with rapt attention as a serious blonde woman speaks into the microphone. “I’m outside East Valley Courthouse today where the notorious real estate tycoon, Hubert Walsh, is being taken into custody. Our sources at WJXT News indicate the charges involve allegations of violence against Mr. Walsh’s step-daughter, Makayla Pierson, best known for her leading role in the popular TV show, Stalked. Early indications are that Mr. Walsh could be facing some serious jail time.”
I look to Jesse. “He turned himself in?”
Jesse smirks. “You did it.” He leans in to give me a quick kiss.
I feel something blossom in my chest that’s not entirely sweet. As much as I know Hubert needed to find justice, I don’t think there was any way to find it without at least a tinge of regret. I don’t regret that he’s going to pay for what he did, but I regret that it came to this. As horrible as it was to know there were people wanting to hurt me, knowing one of the few people I trusted was behind it all made a mark on me I don’t think will ever completely go away. But the positive to come out of all this is how Hubert’s betrayal has made me appreciate the remaining people I can trust, like Kennedy and Jesse. Even though I thought Jesse had betrayed my trust at times, I know now that all he ever did was try to protect me, and I love him so much for that.
“You okay?” he asks.
“I will be,” I say, closing my eyes and pressing my face into his chest, letting the sound of his heartbeat calm me.
Epilogue: Two Months Later
“You sure you don’t want to tell me what we’re doing?” I ask Jesse as we climb what seems like the fortieth flight of stairs. “I mean, if you thought I needed a workout you could just come out and say it.”
He smirks, grabbing my hand and picking me up, holding me in front of his chest and climbing the remaining dozen flights of stairs with a spring in his step. I love how it feels to be carried by him, like I weigh nothing at all. He sets me down when we reach the roof and I gasp, taking in the view of the city stretched out beneath us. I feel a little rush of vertigo and swoon, but Jesse is right beside me to steady me on my feet.
“This is beautiful,” I say, a little breathlessly.
He pulls me close to his side protectively. “Yeah. See that?” he asks, pointing to a helicopter banking in the distance and heading our way.
“Yes…” I say. “Why?”
He says nothing, just watching and looking obnoxiously pleased with himself.
What are you up to, Jesse Slade? I press a hand to my stomach, feeling a wave of fear and excitement pass through me. I want to tell him, but I’m terrified at the same time. I think I know how he’ll react, but I could be wrong. Maybe I’ll just say it. Just blurt the words out. I’m pregnant.
I clutch Jesse a little tighter when it looks like the helicopter is about to crash right into the building. The nose pulls up at the last second, blasting us with strong wind while the helicopter maneuvers into position and lands on a slightly raised portion of the roof. Jesse gestures grandly for me to follow him. I take his hand, not quite understanding what’s going on but excited nonetheless.
“I’ve never been in a helicopter!” I yell, shouting to be heard over the rotating blades.
He helps me up into the passenger area, where I sit in one of two seats and watch Jesse hop inside, looking spectacular in his black suit and gray dress shirt. I’m wearing a somewhat revealing green dress because he told me to wear something nice and because I love the way he looks at me when I wear this dress in particular. Jesse’s eyes always have a way of drinking me in like he’s the thirstiest man alive and I’m a tall, cold glass of water, but when I wear this it’s just a little more pronounced, and what can I say, I can’t get enough of being wanted by him. It’s like a drug to me.
He reaches over and helps me with the straps of my seat, buckling me in and grabbing a headset hanging on the side of the chair and carefully placing it over my ears and moves the microphone into place. He gets himself strapped in and puts on his headset next.
“Can you hear me?” he asks.
I see his lips move but can’t hear anything except the sound of his voice through the headset, slightly robotic, but perfectly clear.
“Yeah!” I shout, giving him a thumbs up.
He grins. “You don’t have to yell. The microphone will pick it up.”
I blush. “This is amazing,” I say, making a point of using a more normal voice.
He leans forward, slapping the pilot on his shoulder. The helicopter jolts beneath me as we lift into the air. There are no doors, which admittedly unsettles me, but Jesse is close enough that I can reach out and hold his hand--which I do--and the harnesses of the seat feel secure. Before long, I’m lost in the view, watching the city crawl by beneath us, marveling at how this perspective makes it all seem so much different, so small and insignificant, but also at how a little distance makes it seem so clean and beautiful.
Jesse places a small black box in my lap. My fingers brush over the velvety material coating the box and my chest constricts. My eyes dart to his, questioning.
“Open it,” he says, face serious.
I crack the box open and my breath hitches. The most beautiful ring I’ve ever seen sparkles up at me from the box, catching every single hint of light and spraying it into every color imaginable. It’s a delicate, classic, and exactly the type of ring I always dreamed of wearing. “This is…” I say, confusion and surprise in my voice.
“Will you?” he asks.