by Tessa Teevan
When the cameras started rolling, my eyes were glued to Ava.
That was when I knew it. That was why I had written this. Perhaps it wasn’t just that the story was for us, about us. But I knew, deep down in my soul, that this was the role she was supposed to play. Because she was brilliant. Breathtaking. She ripped everyone’s hearts out with her wails. Though I couldn’t tear my eyes from her, I knew there wasn’t a dry one in the house. A PA next to me was sniffling, and the sound of tissues being ripped from a box echoed behind me.
God damn. She was perfect.
“And cut.” The harsh slap of the clapperboard echoed throughout the otherwise silent set.
Nothing happened. Ava held on to Brantley, the adorable two-year-old child actor who was portraying Abby and Trevor’s young son. She rocked him on the bed, kissing the top of his head as tears streamed down her face. A small laugh escaped her when he tired of the embrace and wiggled away from her. That’s when she rested back against the headboard, her head down, her chest convulsing.
I couldn’t stand it any longer. Pushing past the director, I made my way onto set and crawled into the bed with her, drawing her into my arms so her back was settled against my chest. One arm wrapped around her front, and she clung to my bicep. Sobs racked through her, and I prayed to fucking God that one take was all they needed.
I smoothed her hair out, hoping to calm her down. “It’s okay, baby. I’m here,” I whispered.
Her sobs lessened, and she turned to look up at me. “Always?”
I tilted her chin, and right before I kissed her lips, I responded. “Forever.”
Ava clutched my arm even tighter as our lips met. We were lost in our own fucking world, kissing as if our lives depended on it. Kissing as if we’d been the ones in that fucking damned story and we knew our time was limited. That this moment would be our last.
It was heartbreak and ecstasy all at once.
Even as the salt from her tears met my lips, I couldn’t pull away. She needed this. She needed me. And for the rest of my life, I’d give her anything she asked.
A throat clearing from behind was the only thing that stopped my tongue from slipping into her mouth.
Glancing up, I noticed the cameras were still rolling and caught sight of Leo out of the corner of my eye. Assuming he had brought me to my senses, I gave him a grateful chin lift before looking around and finding bemused expressions on many faces of the crew.
Fuck me.
I hadn’t realized I’d muttered it out loud until Ava suddenly perked up and took a quick survey of the room, obviously now aware we were being watched.
“Sorry, sorry,” she sniffled, giving me a sad smile through watery eyes.
Jonathan approached us, his expression full of awe. “Now, I know why you were so adamant about casting her, Tucker,” he said, his gaze darting back and forth between the two of us.
“We weren’t together when I requested that,” I said briskly, not wanting him to get the wrong idea.
He waved me off. “I don’t mean the kissing. I meant her acting.” He turned to Ava. “You’ve been a star all while filming, but that? Sweetheart, that was Oscar-worthy. It was brilliant. Raw, heart wrenching. There wasn’t a dry eye on set, and honey, there will not be a dry eye in theaters. You were born to play this role, Ava.”
She blushed. “Th-thank you, Jonathan.” She squeezed my hand. “Don’t let him fool you. He was already in love with me when he cast me.”
My jaw nearly fell open. I couldn’t believe Ava was spilling that secret.
She winked at me. “What? He just called me brilliant. Do you think he cares that you’ve been in love with me since you were twelve?”
Jonathan’s barking laugh confirmed she was right. “I couldn’t care less what your situation was. He obviously knew what he was doing.” He stepped back with a huge smile on his face. “You know what the means, folks?”
Leo punched the air above him with his fist. “That’s a wrap!”
A huge cheer erupted from the crew. My heart, however, wasn’t cheering. Because filming was what had brought Ava back to me. I didn’t know if being done was going to take her away again. But, even if it did, I vowed that it wouldn’t be for good.
FILMING HAD BEEN AN EXHAUSTING roller coaster, and while I was happy for some downtime, I wasn’t quite sure what to do with myself. Tucker and I had planned on spending my first full free day together, but early in the morning, he’d gotten a call about some construction emergency on a job site. Tanner was at a different site and couldn’t get away, so Tucker reluctantly gave me a lingering kiss before heading out the door, but not before he teased me about a possible short story he’d written. An epilogue of sorts for Trevor and Abigail—but one he hadn’t wanted to share until filming was over. I was intrigued, naturally, because I had no idea what could’ve come after Trevor’s death.
Not wanting to tear his home apart in desperate search of it—okay, that’s exactly that I wanted to do—I threw a pair of his sweatpants on, rolled them at the waist, then donned a T-shirt that smelled deliciously like him. While putting my hair up, I decided to clean his house from top to bottom, both as a thank-you for allowing me to basically move in and as a way to keep myself busy until he returned.
Hours later, I was done with the entire house except for one room. As I crept down the hall towards what once was his parents’ bedroom, my heart hammered in my chest. Tucker and I hadn’t talked about them or the accident since I’d been back. When I’d previously commented on the fact that he still slept in his childhood room, he’d shrugged it off, saying that it was all the space he needed.
I had no idea what to expect when I turned the knob and pushed the door open. With caution, I stepped inside and studied the room, shocked that the once warm bedroom had now been transformed into an office.
The room was mostly spotless. Two bookshelves lined the walls, and a filing cabinet was next to a large oak desk. A computer was on top, along with three notebooks. My heart leaped into my throat when I crossed the room and saw that the notebook on top was labeled The Unconventional Happy Ever After. I wondered if it was Tucker’s next project. It was like a beacon calling for me, insisting I come closer, open the pages, and devour whatever he’d written.
As much as I wanted that, I knew I should wait for his permission. He’d once commented that he was fiercely private about his work until it went to his editor. The last thing I wanted to do was break his trust by reading something he wasn’t ready to show anyone yet.
That didn’t mean I wouldn’t ask later.
I set about straightening his desk up. That seemed harmless enough without being considered snooping. All of that flew out the window moments later when I opened his filing cabinet. I was just planning to temporarily store his notebooks there while I dusted. It was nearly three-quarters full, and I had to make room in the back.
As I began to push the notebooks into the cabinet, I caught sight of a folder—one that jumped out at me immediately. The front had the University of Cincinnati’s logo. Had Tucker gone to college after all? If so, why hadn’t it ever come up? It wouldn’t have shocked me because even if he hadn’t gone to USC, UC’s Department of Journalism was nothing to sneeze at, and he could’ve taken night or online classes. Or had he gone the English literature route once he’d realized his desire to write a novel? So many questions arose that I was itching to have them all answered.
I should have waited. I should have left well enough alone. But I didn’t.
Curiosity got the better of me.
Moments later, I wished it hadn’t, because when I took the file out of the drawer, I saw the rest of the cover.
University of Cincinnati Cancer Center.
All previous curiosity of Tucker’s potential major flew out the window. In its place, awful theories of what this could mean took hold of not only all rational thought, but my heart as well, threatening to squeeze the life out of me.
What was this? Was Tucker sick? Was Tanner
?
Of course, Ava, my brain told me. Why else would he have medical records from a cancer center? My earlier wish of respecting his privacy and not wanting to break his trust completely evaporated from my mind. I couldn’t not find out the truth.
I held my breath as I opened the file, unsure of what I was about to discover. Unsure I wanted to continue down this path that was suddenly bringing Tucker’s book far too close to home.
My hands trembled as I skimmed the document with blurry vision. The phrases blood cell counts and aggressive treatment plan jumped out at me like snapping piranhas from the page. When I saw an order for chemotherapy, my breath caught in my throat and I no longer had any desire to learn the truth. That was until I set the page aside and my eyes were drawn to the document that had been behind the medical record.
Last Will and Testament.
A sob bubbled over and escaped my lips. Tucker was twenty-three. Why would he have a will created? Unless…
Unless there was a reason that made him believe he needed one.
The notion caused my knees to buckle, and the sound of them crashing against the hardwood echoed all around me. A torrential rush of tears exploded from behind my eyes.
God, what had I done? What had I left Tucker to deal with all on his own? Why hadn’t he told me? A barrage of questions sifted through my mind, one after the other, relentless in their attack.
“Ava?”
Tucker’s quiet voice caused me to jump. When I dropped the folder and looked up at him, his expression was guarded.
“What is this?” I asked, wiping my eyes, surprised by how calm I was.
“Ava, I can explain.”
“Cancer?” The word came out more like a sob than a question. Yet I wasn’t sure I wanted the know the answer.
His eyes softened, and he gave a slight shake of his head. “It’s in remission. The treatments worked. It’s over, done.”
I pushed myself up from the floor and rose to my feet. “Why would you keep this from me? How could you keep this from me?”
Before he could respond, a thought dawned on me.
“Is that why you wrote Those Three Words? Because you thought you were dying? Just like Trevor?” Tears were now streaming down my face. What had once been a beautiful love story was now nothing but a tragedy. “Was this to show me what I’d thrown away and almost lost completely without having ever known?”
“No, of course not!” he protested then winced. “I mean, maybe it was inspired by it a little bit, but not entirely.”
“All this time, I’ve been working my ass off for you to trust me again. And yet all along you’ve been keeping this from me? How could you?”
“You don’t understand,” he said, but he didn’t offer any sort of explanation. He simply stared at me, a pained expression on his face.
“Then make me understand, Tucker. None of this makes sense. You say you love me, that you never want to lose me, but you kept something this important from me?”
He ran a hand through his hair and then down his face before releasing a sigh. “Why would it matter?”
It was a valid question. One I wasn’t sure I had the answer to. But why wouldn’t Tucker try to make me understand? We stood there in a standoff, neither of us willing to be the first to give in. Finally, I’d had enough. If he wasn’t going to tell me the truth, I could no longer be there.
“I have… I have to go.” Somehow, I was able to push past him and dart down the hallway.
He was hot on my heels. “Ava, wait.” The strain in his voice stopped me in my tracks.
I hesitated, getting one last glimpse of him. “I just need… I need space.”
His laughter was forced. “Fine. Go. Do what you do best. Run away when things get tough.”
His words stung.
I whirled around and thrust the sheet of paper into his hands. “This time, I’m not running. This time, you’ve pushed me.”
Tears clouded my vision as I ran from the room, darting out the front door, down the steps, and to my house, where my dad was walking out the front door. He took one look at my face and drew me into his embrace, smoothing my hair out as I sobbed into his chest.
“Ava? Baby, what’s wrong?” Dad’s soothing voice washed over me as he held me in his arms. God, was this déjà vu? Was I destined to repeat the same mistakes over and over again? Just like when I’d run from Tucker after his parents’ deaths, I was doing the same.
“Did you know, Daddy?” I asked, sniffling. “About Tucker?”
His eyes narrowed. “What about Tucker?”
“The…the cancer,” I stammered out between sobs, barely noticing the way my dad stiffened. “Were you there for him? Or was he all alone?”
The thought that Tucker had endured all that horrible treatment alone nearly sent me over the edge. I wanted to go back to him, to comfort him, to apologize for leaving him alone. Yet I was still hurt he hadn’t confided in me. When I pulled back and saw the forlorn—and guilty—expression on my dad’s face, I couldn’t deal with it.
“You knew. And you didn’t think to tell me?” I shrieked. Then I pushed him away from me. I swallowed hard, glaring at him. “You knew how I felt about him. You knew how devastated I was being away from him. You knew that I would’ve been on the first plane home so I could be here.”
“That’s exactly why we didn’t tell you, Ava. You were off living your own life. There was no reason for us to disrupt that.”
I wholeheartedly disagreed. “That was selfish. It should’ve been my decision how I reacted to the news. But to keep it from me? How could you?”
My chest heaved as I was breathless from my rant. Dad’s eyes were full of sorrow, perhaps even guilt, but his lips were drawn into a tight line. The sound of a slamming door—coming from the direction of Tucker’s home—was all it took to break the stare between us.
“I will never forgive you.”
Then, before Tucker could chase after me, I swung on my heel and ran in the opposite direction of our treehouse, because the last place I wanted to be was anywhere with memories of us.
I should’ve known he’d find me. It wasn’t like I’d hidden in an exceptionally difficult place to find. I’d only run out of his house five minutes prior, and he’d followed me to the neighborhood park we’d frequented as kids. Okay, so I said I didn’t want to go anywhere with memories of him, but this was the best I could do without my car keys or any running ability.
He’d known it, too. Unlike me, he wasn’t even out of breath when he walked through the iron gate. When his eyes locked in on mine, I saw the relief in them. I didn’t miss the way he paused, watching me. I definitely didn’t miss how he nibbled on his bottom lip before releasing it along with a heavy sigh. I was angry. I was hurt. But, upon seeing him, tall and strong, will a full head of hair and seemingly healthy in every way, I wanted to run to him, throw my arms around his neck, and promise to never leave him again.
But, first, I needed the truth. Not because it would change anything. Of course it wouldn’t. I loved him with my whole heart. I just needed to know what he needed from me. To know he’d kept nothing from me, hidden nothing from me. If this was going to work, we had to be open books with each other.
So, as much as I wanted to drop the act, I protectively folded my arms across my chest the closer he got.
“Go away, Tucker. I want to be alone,” I insisted.
It was stupid and unfair to push him away, but I needed time to process my emotions. To process the idea that the fiction that had brought us back together was my reality. My heart was on the verge of shattering. I wanted to go to him, to tell him that everything would be okay.
He stuck his hands in the front pockets of his jeans and shook his head slightly before cocking it to the side. “So, is this how it’s going to be, Ava? Something spooks you, something doesn’t go your way, so you run?”
When he put it that way, I realized he was right. I had done just that. Instead of running, I should’ve stood my grou
nd and demanded he tell me everything. As I held on to the chains of the swing, I merely offered him a halfhearted shrug.
A low growl came from his direction, and my gaze shot up to see a fierce expression darkening his face.
“You are my woman. You do not run from me. You run to me.”
The sentiment rang far too true, and once again, I was suddenly ashamed of my fight-or-flight instinct. Hot tears pricked my eyes and slowly rolled down my cheeks.
“It was wrong. I’m sorry. Once again, I’m screwing things up by being a coward.” I sniffed and met his gaze, offering a small smile, hoping that this stupid act hadn’t pushed him away. “Forgive me?”
He took a step towards me. Then he kneeled before the swing set and took my hand into his. Soft tenderness replaced the fire in his eyes “No, baby. There’s nothing to forgive.” He used his thumb to wipe the tears away. “You ran away from me once before and I didn’t follow you. I promised myself, if I ever had you back in my life, I’d never let you go again. You run, I’ll chase. For as long as it takes. I’d go to the ends of the Earth for you. I love you, Ava. I’ve always loved you. You’re mine and I won’t stop reminding you of that until it sinks in and takes anchor in your heart. You own me. Every single piece of me, every fiber of my being, is yours. I can’t lose you. Not again.”
I sniffled, loving the sentiment but hating his secrecy of something so momentous. “Then why? Why would you keep this from me?”
The corners of his eyes turned downward and he pressed his lips together in a tight line, but he held my gaze all the same. I couldn’t help myself. I used my free hand to stroke the stubble on his cheek that I’ve come to adore.
“I love you, Tucker. I never, not in a million years, thought I’d have the kind of love my parents have. And yet I do. With you. But, when you say I have all of you, it must be true. The good, the bad, the thrilling, and the terrifying. And everything in between. I’ll run to you, always, but you have to run to me, too.”
