Page 95 of Off Script

“Te perdono, Mama.”

“Really?” she asked. The tears brimming in her eyes nearly brought Tristan to tears as well.

“Really. I mean, trusting you again will take some time, but Icanforgive you. I can’t hold you living your truth against you. Not when I’m finally able to put myself in your shoes. Especially not when I’ve fallen in love myself.”

“Oh, mijo, that’s wonderful! With who?”

“With a woman who is infuriatingly complicated and just as stubborn as me. The thing is, so much has happened between us, so much hurt, that I don’t know if I can fix things.”

Looking back on everything that had taken place between him and Jada, Tristan was torn between the depth of his feelings for her and the fear that laying his heart on the line ultimately wouldn’t be worth it. And yet he kept thinking back to the sincerity in Jada’s eyes when she said he was worth sticking around for. Deep down, he knew she was too. As if she could read the emotions on his face, Tristan’s mom squeezed his hand reassuringly.

“You will. If you truly love her, fight for her, Tristan. Hold on to her and cherish what you have.”

While it was the first motherly advice he’d gotten in years, Tristan rediscovered that mothers still held fundamental wisdom.

“I will, Mama. And I can’t wait for you to meet her soon,” Tristan promised.

Full of newfound resolve, Tristan left his mother welcome to stay at his house, and then made his way to Jada’s. The sun had just dipped below the horizon but the darkening sky didn’t faze him. The route had become so familiar he drove there with quick ease, but a very unwilling Mikayla refused to let him in.

“What do you want?” She scowled at him.

“You know what I want. I need to speak to Jada.”

“Why? To keep bullying her out of a job? She doesn’t need to hear anything else from you.”

“Not even how I’ve realized I’m a giant ass. How I’m ready to do anything for us to start over?”

“Thatisa start, but Jada’s not here.”

“Do you know where she went?”

“You just missed her, she left ten minutes ago. All she said was she needed to go confront her fears so she could move past everything and reach greater heights. It was all very existential.”

Tristan puzzled over this revelation until it all clicked.

New heights . . .

“Okay, got it,” he said excitedly. “Thanks, Mikayla.”

“Oh, and Tristan,” she called after him before he could rush off. “It was my idea to release the video, and I’m sorry about that now, by the way. Jada was drunk and hurt when we did it. She’s basically an innocent snowflake who had a moment of weakness.”

Reflecting on his mom’s mistakes and everything else he’d learned, Tristan smiled. “We all do.”

Mikayla’s guarded stance softened in surprise at his response. She didn’t get to question him further as Tristan left her behind to go find his true love.

31

Taking in the scenic fairgrounds, Jada thought back to when she and Tristan came here. Revisiting the places where they’d been and the things they’d done together was heartbreaking, but Jada had come here anyway. Technically, the Bright Futures Festival had ended, but the pier still felt like their “spot.” Sitting at one of the few open tables, Jada glanced down at her finished letter. The whole concept of writing a Dear John letter for Tristan had come from Alia. After days of Jada moping around, Alia had pointed out that if Jadadidplan on doing a second film with Tristan, she needed to get everything out in the open.

ActuallygivingTristan the letter wasn’t the point of this coping exercise. Her motivation was to gather her thoughts about their breakup, then come up with a better apology for when they met in person. Her eyes flowed over her message, giving it one more critical read-through.

Dear Tristan,

There are no words to fully express how sorry I am foreverything. I wish I could explain why I’m such a mess.Why I lash out then run away. Why I completely fuckup everything I touch, including us. The best—but stillpathetic—excuse I can give is I’ve never been strong.I’ve never been able to live up to the ideal of the strong,Black woman who is proud, daring, and never cares whatpeople think of her.

I care way too much. And right now, I care that youprobably see me as someone who planned it all from thestart, right? That I did something totally malicious andthen capitalized on it when the opportunity with you andDoug fell in my lap.

I don’t want you to think it was all a lie. Yes, I hadthose dreams about being like Thandiwe Newton andViola Davis, of standing on stage and being honored formy work. But I’m no longer obsessed with getting intothe Black Women Hall of Fame.

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