“The reporter was Susan Martin from theStone Times. The one who wrote the first piece about us at the beach.”
The revelation hits me. The memory of our perfect beach day floats around in my mind.
“Did you plan on her finding us there?” My voice is suspiciously steady considering the pain that’s climbing up my throat.
The smoky haze painting everything in dreamy watercolors, the sweet-tart burst of apricot jam on my tongue, the way his gaze had wrapped around me. The first time I felt like I could break free. All of it had been real to me.
“No, Reese.” He frowns. His eyes look desperate. “Susan knew about the redwoods shoot location before I confirmed it. Yes, I confirmed it. Off the record, for what that was worth. And I did that before you walked into my life and turned everything upside down. Before I knew what it felt like to care about someone more than anything.”
“Then why didn’t you tell me before we started getting to know each other?”
The question I don’t have a good answer to. Because I was immature? Because I was afraid? Because I’m just learning how this whole falling in love thing fucking works?
“I had no idea Susan would track us down, and I didn’t give it a second thought until I saw the article.”
My mind aches trying to piece together his words.
“She only knew about Redwood National Park?”
“That’s all I knew about at the time, and after I got off my yacht, I had no other contact with any other reporters,” he explains.
“But why hide it?” I wrap my arms around myself. “We watched her, and so many other reporters, tear apart everything I’ve worked for, and you didn’t say anything,” I explain. Whatwould it have changed if he had? Goodness. “I invited her to the set.” I feel so foolish now.
He hangs his head low. “I was a coward. At first, you couldn’t stand me—rightfully so. Then, when things started changing between us, when I started feeling things I’d never felt before, Felix quit, and you told me this movie was the most important thing. So I wanted to wait for the right time to bring it up.”
“Okay,” I say because I can’t think of a better reply.
I recognize this as one of those rare moments where this level of vulnerability is both terrifying and necessary.
My past relationships, the ruthless media scrutiny, the calculated public appearances have left deep scars that still ache. And though I know with absolute certainty that Dante is different, that what we have transcends my past, there’s still that quiet, irrational voice of fear that whispers doubts in the dark corners of my mind.
“The truth is, for the first time in my life, I had something real with you. Something that wasn’t about me or public perception. It wasn’t about fencing. You made me want to be better. The thought of losing that, losing you, terrified me into silence,” he explains. “But I did my best to keep us out of the media after that article. Well, until you needed my help to take down the Felix headlines.”
And even then, he risked his entire fencing career to help me with a PR plan that could’ve easily hurt him.
The bitter irony makes me want to laugh. Or cry. How something that started as mutually beneficial, him training me while I helped him with his lines, turned into a second arrangement to soften his image while simultaneously evolving mine, and grew into something that neither of us saw coming.
Something real.
Something that scared us both with its intensity, like a southern summer afternoon with no shade in sight.
These past four months have changed us in ways I never expected. We’ve pushed each other, challenged each other, forced each other to confront the faces and names we hide behind, like peeling away layers of old wallpaper to find the original walls underneath.
I fell in love with his walls.
“I think I need some time to wrap my head around this.” I fiddle with my hands. “Not because I don’t believe in us. God, that’s the terrifying part. I believe in us so much it scares me. But right now…” The tears I’ve been holding back blur my vision. “I would like some space to process everything. Honestly, it’s been a long evening. I feel confused and overwhelmed. And I don’t know how to fix any of that right now.”
Every cell in my body screams to close the distance between us, but I plant my feet firmly on the ground and get out of my chair.
We need space to understand where the headlines end and our real story begins.
“Reese, I l—”
I know exactly what word is about to skip off his lips.
Love.
“Please,” I plead. “Don’t say it.” Tears stream down my face. “Because I do too. And I want nothing more than to fall into your arms and pretend none of this matters. But I’m done playing out my life like it’s one of the movies I’ve spent my entire career shooting.”
