Page 64 of Fake Married to the Grumps

The air between us crackles with tension, and the limited distance separating our bodies becomes acutely apparent. Heat rises to my cheeks, a telltale sign of the effect he has on me, even after all these years.

Of all the elevators in the city, Bryce just had to step into mine.

Great.

Chapter 2

Bryce

Eight years ago, I left New York with a heavy heart, carrying the weight of unresolved issues with my family and leaving behind the only person who truly understood me.

When I left home all those years ago, the plan was to never return. There is simply too much unresolved tension, and I’d rather not deal with it.

If my family doesn't support what I do, it's best to keep my distance. And that has worked well for me so far.

My life has been free from the shackles that used to hold me back, and I'm happy because I'm doing what I love without fear of judgment.

I wouldn't be back if my agent, Ellen, hadn't insisted that this movie project had the potential to take me to even greater heights, emphasizing the importance of giving it my absolute best.

I'm used to high-octane blockbusters, so this should be a breeze. I can't wait to be done so I can get out of here.

"This movie could be your chance for an Oscar, Bryce."

Sitting across from Ellen in her office, she's giving me a lecture, as usual, about how I should be on my best behavior. When am I not?

I try to concentrate, even though the huge blonde wig on her head is oddly distracting. I wonder why she would choose to put that on when she's got perfect black hair. Her body, her choice, I guess.

Ellen’s eyessparklewith anticipation as if the golden statuette is within arm's reach, and I roll my eyes, a smirk playing on my lips.

"Come on, Ellen. I've got the skills. Awards will follow. No need for the pre-Oscar pep talk."

She laughs—a sound that carries the confidence of someone who's been managing my career for longer than I care to admit. I have her to thank for staying grounded. Without her, my career would be a wreckage courtesy of my short fuse.

"Alright, Mr. Modesty. But seriously, this film is your ticket to something different. Show them the range you've got."

I nod, understanding the stakes, but deep down, exploring the essence of my hometown on the big screen isn't something I'm exactly thrilled about.

"While you're here, you'll need an assistant. Someone to ensure that your business here is done smoothly and to assist with on-set logistics and scheduling."

"Yeah, you can take care of that."

"I could, but the company has given me a list."

"A list?"

"Well, you're a pretty big deal, and they would like you to have the best of everything."

As Ellen hands me a list of potential assistants, I scan through the names. My eyes stop at one—MarissaHansley. My heart does a cartwheel as the memories flood back.

Whoever follows my social media will be aware of my return, Marissa included. I haven't seen her since the night when I left home in a hurry. She had said some pretty heavy things that I wasn't ready to deal with, so I just left without saying a word to her.

I felt afterward, beating myself up for just disappearing the way I did and shutting her out when she was the one person who made my messy life better.

Marissa always kept me sane. She was like the calm in my storm, and so many times, I wanted to reach out to her. But I could never summon the courage to do it. Not after leaving the way that I did.

Even though it's been years, a part of me hopes that she still remembers that night and all the other memories we shared.

"Marissa."

---