Page 85 of The Reunion

She grins. A few minutes later, I’m settled into hair and makeup, sipping lime-infused water that might as well have been tapped straight from a glacier. It’s glorious. I close my eyes, let the stylists do their work on me, silently grateful for a moment to process everything before going on national television. Now that I’ve gotten all my business decisions out of the way, it’s time to focus on the second part of my plan: Ransom.

I know Ben Bristol will ask.

Even if it’s not his first question, it most certainly won’t be his last—it will be the question around which all other questions revolve.

It’s my chance to tell my own story, to tell the world—to tellRansom—what I’ve known, deep down, since the first time he took my hand in his and calmed me down during a shoot: I don’t know how to live my life without him in it.

Volunteering this sort of information in an interview goes against every instinct I’ve ever had, for as long as I can remember, yet here we are. Given our unique circumstances—and my particular panoramaof fears—I can think of no better way to show Ransom I’m not afraid of the world knowing how I feel about him than to declare it on national television; that I’m not afraid of the substantial risks that come with being more than friends, more than just each other’s safe place. That I’m trying to face my fear head-on after a lifetime of letting it control me.

Just don’t let fear win.

That final line from my scene with Sasha-Kate hit me hard. Fear has won for far too long, and it’s time to stop playing it safe.

“All done,” says my makeup artist, whose name is (inexplicably) Feather. “You lookamazing.”

“Okay, right this way,” Alyssa says. “We’ve got a quick detour that isn’t listed in your schedule—I promise it will be totally worth it! Just follow me.”

Alyssa practically bounces down the hall in her pristine white sneakers. We make a left turn, then a right, and then—I nearly trip over a tiny gray kitten that’s escaped out into the hallway.

My heart picks up. The kitten gives the tiniestmeowthat echoes off the tile, its eyes round as marbles. Around its neck is a ribbon tied into a bow, a gift tag attached with the wordGIRLwritten on it in thick black marker.

Alyssa lunges for the kitten, but it makes a break for it and darts away. “I’ll be back!” she calls, chasing it down the hall and around the corner.

I’m still staring after her when I hear more kittens, mewing in chorus from a little farther down the hall. I turn but don’t see anything—until Ransom slips out of one of the rooms just ahead, gently closing the door behind him. He’s dressed in a sharply cut black blazer with slim, tailored pants to match, a look that would be perfectly at home on a Prada runway. His face is a wonder—sparkling eyes, distinctive cheekbones, five-o’clock shadow, full lower lip—

I can’t stop staring.

“What… what are you doing here?” I finally manage.

No one mentioned he was scheduled for Ben Bristol with me—and Ransom himself didn’t breathe a word about it in his trailer earlier.

His cheeks flush pink, and he gives a bashful smile. He’s nervous, too, I can tell by the way he’s fidgeting with his hands.

“I did say I’d find you later,” he says, grinning. “Here, come in and we can talk.”

I follow him inside and see five other kittens running around the room, chasing each other with huge floppy bows fastened at their collars just like the first. One is carrying a peacock toy, and she drops it right at my feet. The tag on her collar just has a single question mark on it. Another, an orange one, darts between Ransom’s legs, the wordWILLblurring as it passes.

“Ransom?” I’m fidgeting with my hands now, too—what is goingon? It’s like Kittenpalooza 2.0 in here. “What…?”

It’s a little jarring seeing this posh, polished version of him next to all the kittens—he’s definitely not the young, adorable, heartthrob-next-door type he once was. Jarring as it is, it somehow still works.

“Right after we talked, I got in touch and asked if I could surprise you here tonight, but there was some sort of miscommunication—they thought I wanted to surprise youduringthe show, not before it. I didn’t realize what had happened until I showed up, and by then it had blown up into a whole thing, and the ASPCA was dropping off this entire fleet of kittens, and—”

He cuts himself off, glances around at the tiny creatures bounding across the room.

“Long story short,” he goes on, “it’s turned into something else than I meant it to be, and I told them I’d only go on during the show if I got a chance to talk to you privately first. Before we go out there, I want to make it abundantly clear that you are not a publicity stunt to me. That you’re so much more.”

He closes the distance between us, takes both of my hands in his. I can’t stop staring into his eyes—the feeling seems to be mutual.

“Liv,” he says, with more emotion packed into a single syllable than I’ve ever heard. “We said a lot of things earlier, but when you left, I realized I never said the most important part.” His hands close tighter around mine as he takes a deep breath. “I’m so sorry for all the years I never acted on how I felt. Sorry for being so afraid to lose you that Iwasn’t up-front when it mattered—I’ve always only wanted to protect you, but ended up being the one tohurtyou. I hate that things happened like they did.”

He takes a breath, keeps going. “I’m sorry I wasn’t brave enough to cut my father out of my life years ago and that his actions made you doubt what you and I have.”

My heart tightens at the memory of that night in his living room: how cold I was to him, how I left without giving him a chance to explain. A sand-colored kitten curls around my ankle, its fur soft on my skin:YOU, reads its tag.

“When my dad leaked the news about us, I completely lost it—I wasn’t thinking straight after what he did, andhowhe did it, and—” He cuts himself off, takes a calming breath. “Point is, after finally getting my chance with you, I thought I’d blown it.” His eyes are practically on fire, and I can’t look away. “I should never have snapped at you that day on set when all you wanted was to help.”

I have no words. Not one.

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