Page 92 of When Stars Fall

“Wyatt.” His name is a last plea before he closes the trailer door.Be honest.

He stills and then turns. “I’m not giving you a reason to limit my time with her.”

“That’s not why I’m asking.”

“I’m sober. I’m not drinking. That’s the truth. Anything else doesn’t matter.”

“It matters to me,” I say. “We can’t build anything on lies.”

“We’re not building something while you’re tossing other people between us like they matter. They don’t. You need to be honest with yourself. What we’ve got, you’re not finding that with someone else. Neither am I.” Wyatt’s posture is strung tight.

In ten years, neither of us has really moved on. Being dragged back into anything remotely close to the chaotic lifestyle we lived or balancing on the knife’s edge of tipping back into it won’t work for me. Every time I look at him, twenty minibar bottles lined up on a counter flash across my vision. If that’s controlled, I don’t want to see out of control. Until he tells me the truth about his drinking, until he can acknowledge there’s an issue there, we’re stuck as we are.

“I would never stop you from seeing her.”

“You already did, Ellie. For nine years. I’m not giving you a reason to do it again.” With that, he shuts the trailer door behind him.

Chapter Thirty-Three

Wyatt

Present Day

We’re halfway through filming and the frost between us hasn’t thawed. Haven’s amazing, but parenting is fucking hard. The first time she threw a temper tantrum, I was sure aliens had invaded her body. Her attitude changed on a dime. All these years, Ellie has dealt with her mood swings by herself. Well, she had her family but still, it’s incredible.Alone.

Hair and makeup are retouching us before we do another take. The movie scenes are shot out of order, which is normal. This is the first take on one of two endings for the film. In this one, Ellie’s supposed to run toward me, and I sweep her up into my arms and kiss her. I offered to rehearse this moment several times, but she turned me down.

The three of us have spent a lot of time together over the last six weeks. Anytime I try to see Ellie without Haven, she finds a reason to evade me. Phone calls, meetings, people visiting, conveniently timed. Her crafty scheduling would be unbelievable if she hadn’t spent ten years avoiding me with expert precision. In another life, Ellie commanded an army.

James, the director, is grumbling orders, and the crew duck away, out of the shot. Ellie is framed in the natural sunlight, and she’s surrounded by an ethereal glow. Takes me back ten years. Life should be that easy—get the right lighting, everything else falls into place. James calls out a few minor adjustments to the person in wardrobe who is fixing Ellie’s coat. Winter scenes aren’t as much fun as I remember. It’s absolutely freezing.

A frown creases James’s face, and with difficulty, he gets off his chair and ambles to Ellie. They engage in a back-and-forth discussion that has Ellie shooting me a worried look over his shoulder. I’m tempted to leave my mark to see what’s being debated. Just as I’m about to go, she gives James a pained expression and nods.

When James walks away from her, she calls out, “Can you tell Wyatt, please?”

He turns on his heel and strides to her faster than I expected. His wide, thick back is to me. What he’s saying isn’t audible, but his stiff posture sets me off. Ellie and I might not be getting along, but there’s no way I’m letting him treat her with any sort of disrespect.

I leave my mark and approach them. “What’s going on?”

“Minor change.” James half turns to me.

“If Ellie doesn’t like it, it’s not minor.” I’m taller than him, and I have no problem using my size for intimidation if he’s harassing Ellie.

“Sell it, Ellie.” James gives her a warning glance before turning around. “You’re being paid to make me believe.”

“Are you okay?” What the hell is he getting her to do?

“It’s fine.” Glancing up at me, she says, “And I’m sorry for what’s coming next. I—I tried to talk him out of it.”

“Come on, Wyatt,” James calls, back at his seat now. “I don’t want to lose the light.”

The light is excellent, so I’m going to let whatever he said to Ellie drop for now. I give him the finger, and I stalk back to my mark. With a roll of my shoulders, I try to relax and remember the point of the scene. Easy. I’m in love with Ellie’s character. She runs up to me, one line, one kiss, done. I can do this. Whatever note he gave her, I can improv. Wouldn’t be the first time a director tried to get an authentic reaction by doing something underhanded.

As soon as James calls action, a light flips on in Ellie. Her expression becomes one I used to see when she looked at me. She sprints to me and I catch her, swinging her around, and her legs circle my waist. We laugh, and I drink her in. I want to live in this moment, this false happiness. Doesn’t matter if she’s pretending. I’m not, and I smooth back her hair. “You came. Wasn’t sure you’d come.”

For a beat, she stares at me. Deep in her dark depths, the light dims a fraction. Her features soften before she says, “I love you. There’s nowhere else I’d want to be.”

My sharp intake of breath stills everyone on set. Three extra words seize my heart. The quiet is eerie. Fuck it. They don’t get this moment. It’s mine. Blocking everyone out, I secure Ellie tighter, and our lips collide without hesitation. She kisses me like a woman in love—slowly, deeply, a kiss full of promise, a kiss that doesn’t end when a director calls cut. My heart beats a staccato, afraid to believe, wanting so badly to believe. I don’t want this moment to be fake.

---