Slipping his hand into mine, lacing our fingers together, he led me to his trailer. The artists and stylists were already there — we were running a bit late, apparently.
They took to their work quickly, sparing no time for conversation or questions. As the man I loved transformed intoTheo Riverabefore my very eyes, I felt my heart catch in my throat. This wasbigger than my favorite book. Bigger than my celebrity crush and childhood affections.
This wasreal.
Once everyone left, the trailer felt smaller, almost suffocating, even though it was just the two of us. The walls seemed to close in as he sat, eyes fixed on the floor, jaw clenched tight like he was holding back a storm.
I slid in next to him, heart pounding with everything he was carrying. The black tie in his hands looked like a knot of nerves, but his fingers struggled to loosen it, fumbling as if the act itself was more daunting than the words he had to say.
“Here,” I murmured, reaching out before he could protest.
He glanced up, surprised, but didn’t pull away.
I took the tie gently, fingers working slowly to straighten it, threading the knot with deliberate care, my touch soft but sure. His eyes flickered to mine — so raw, so vulnerable — and I squeezed his hand, letting him know he wasn’t alone.
“You’re going to be incredible,” I whispered against the quiet hum of the trailer.
Ansel exhaled slowly, with a hint of a tremble in his voice. “Feels like I’m being sent to the firing squad. Full-blown execution style.”
“Then I’ll be right there next to you,” I said, brushing a stray lock of hair behind his ear.
He offered a small, shaky smile, the kind that said “thank you” without words. Then the assistant called out, loud enough for us to hear from the trailer, “Five minutes!”
I squeezed his hand one last time before stepping back, watching him rise — his shoulders straighter now, the weight eased just a little, tied up as neatly as his knot.
His jaw clenched tight, that muscle twitching like he was trying to hold back a storm. I wanted to reach out and steady him,but this was his moment to fight, to own whatever it was that haunted him.
I tried not to speculate on our walk to the set. Tried not to comb througheveryscene of the book to place just what we were about to witness. Truth be told — I wasn’t immune to the fact that this could be abrand newscene that wasn’t even in the book.
But it could be the beginning, inside Theo’s corporate job.
Any number of interviews Theo attended in the middle, looking for a way to support his ailing mother.
Or —
My stomach dropped when we walked onto the set.
Fuck.
The room was set up like a funeral home. A closed casket at the front with a small pulpit standing next to it. Ansel moved slowly, his hands coming to rest on the pulpit’s edges as if bracing himself against the memories — the pain, the love, the grief all tangled up together.
His breath hitched.
“Action,” someone called, a hundred miles away.
His hands trembled. Clutched the edge of the worn pulpit. Then, his voice broke through — low, raw, trembling with a fragile strength.
“Mom,” he began, and the single word landed like a whispered prayer, jagged and sacred. Cracking just on the edge.
I felt my throat tighten, breath catching in a way that wasn’t just sympathy. This was his soul bleeding out, and somehow it felt like he was lettingmein — deeper than I’d ever been before.
“I’m afraid that I never told you enough how much you meant to me. How your strength was the backbone of my every step, even when I thought I could stand alone. You were my shelter, my fiercest champion in a world that often felt too cold.”
His voice cracked, and I wanted to reach out — but my hands were useless at my sides. I was trapped in a weird area of limbo.His wordsweren’treal, but they hit every one of my emotions on the way down.
“You taught me how to be kind when the world demanded hardness. How to love fiercely, even when it scared me.” His eyes flicked down to the lectern, then up — burning with something fierce and broken, something raw and unguarded.
“I’m grateful for every moment. For every lesson, every laugh, every tear. And though I’m standing here now, trying to say goodbye, part of me will always carry you with me.”
