Page 25 of Every Star that Shines

She nodded, giving him an embarrassed look. “Yeah. I hope you don’t mind that I stole your idea.”

“Mind?” He shook his head. “I think it’s fantastic that you took it and ran with it. Way to go. I’ll have to go look your channel up.”

“You will?” Her eyes widened, and she looked mock-nervous. “If you do, be kind.”

He chuckled. “I’m sure you have nothing to worry about. Not if you’re doing as well as you said.”

“Not are. Were.” She sighed and stared at her empty coffee mug, tapping it with a fingernail.

He studied her lowered face. In high school, she had been pretty, though the admiring glances of all the boys in class had been lost on her. Now she was a knockout. He wondered who Josh Rosenburg was, and why she wasn’t taking his calls. A boyfriend? Ex-boyfriend? Or someone else? But the haunted look behind her eyes probably had more to do with the trauma of her recent cancellation than anything else. Who sends death threats about a satire video? The stupidity of people astounded him at times.

Especially the one in his mirror.

“That producer was an idiot to let you go.” Caleb swallowed and glanced away. Seeing her here like this, he couldn’t help but be reminded of all he’d lost when he had stayed behind. But she deserved for him to be present right now, not dwelling on his past mistakes. He turned back to her, and the look in her brown eyes made his heart squeeze with longing.

“I know it feels like everything sucks right now,” he said gently, “but if I’ve learned anything, it’s that difficult times don’t last. You’ll get through this. You’ll become the star you were always meant to be, and then that producer will be eating crow. You wait and see.”

She looked at him, her eyes soft. “You always did know what to say, Caleb Toews.”

His heart stuttered, and he resisted the urge to run his thumb along her curving jaw. He grinned instead. “Good to know I haven’t lost my touch.”

She smiled. “Speaking of that, whatever happened to that script you were working on back in the day? A Million Miles from Everywhere, or something like that.”

He leaned back in his chair. “I finished it. It’s collecting dust on my hard drive. That, and two others I wrote since then.”

“Oh?” She rested her chin on her hand and tilted her head in interest. “More space operas?”

He shrugged. “One’s a thriller, the other’s a comedy. I can’t seem to stay in one lane.”

“So what are you going to do with them? Did you enter any contests or anything?”

He waved his hand dismissively, ignoring the familiar ache in his chest he felt whenever his long-lost screenwriting dreams came up. “Nah. My real life had too many responsibilities. I couldn’t afford to run off chasing dreams.”

Her expression froze, and he realized his mistake.

“I’m sorry, Delanie. I didn’t mean—”

“It’s fine. I know what you meant,” she said, but her tone was stiff.

Way to go, Don Juan. He had told himself he would avoid the topic of their breakup like the plague, worried it would bring up the hard feelings he was afraid were still there. Judging from the way Delanie was putting her phone in her purse with jerky movements, he’d been right to suspect as much. He tried to think of something to say to ease the tension, but a loud clang like a Chinese gong being struck emanated from his jacket pocket. Delanie glanced up from putting on her cardigan.

“That’s my reminder to go pick up Emma from school.” Caleb pulled out his phone to dismiss the notification so the alarm wouldn’t clang again. “Sorry it’s so loud. I have to make sure I hear my notifications above the noise of a job site. I should have put my phone on vibrate.”

“You pick Emma up every day?”

“No, she usually goes to my sister’s on the bus and I pick her up after work. But we’re going to my parents’ place for supper because we missed Sunday dinner this week. Since I took the afternoon off anyway, I told Emma I would pick her up from school and we’d head out early. Say, would you like to come out to my parents’ for supper, too?”

Delanie’s eyes widened and she stared at him like he had just told her there was an ax murderer on the loose.

Why on Earth did I say that?

“Um, that’s sweet of you, but I think I’ll take a pass. I have a lot of prep to do before rehearsal tomorrow night, and—”

“It’s okay, you don’t need to explain. I—”

“No, I’m not explaining. I’m just . . .” Delanie swallowed and glanced down, her attention focused on tying the belt of her cardigan. When she finished, she swung her purse over her shoulder and picked up her binder, then met his eye. “Thanks, Caleb. I guess I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“See you tomorrow, Delanie.” Why did he feel as though he were saying goodbye, not see you later?

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