Page 79 of Take Two

I nod, though the movement feels automatic.

“I’m sorry, Cyaire.”

“Yeah, I know. You’re doing your job and I need to do mine.”

He gives me one last sympathetic look before heading across the lot. I watch him weave through crew members until he reaches Cameron near the wardrobe trailers. They exchange a few quiet words before Cameron looks over in my direction, his brow pinched in concern.

I don’t need to hear the conversation. I already know exactly what Jasper’s telling him. He won’t be happy either, but what can he do.

I barely notice Jamie crossing the lot until his hand rests gently around my forearm.

“Blue.” His voice is soft enough that it cuts through everything else.

I lift my head.

The easy smile he’d been wearing only moments ago disappears the second he gets a good look at me. His brows knit together as his eyes search my face, reading me the way they always seem to.

“What’s wrong?”

I open my mouth, but nothing comes out. I want to rage, cry, stomp up and down. Nothing comes out though, the words refuse to leave my throat, as though saying them aloud will somehow make them permanent.

“I. . .” I swallow hard before forcing myself to try again. “I have to leave tonight.”

He steps back just a fraction, his hand on my arm tightens as if his grip alone can keep me here. “Tonight?”

I nod, wanting to sob I’m so angry. “They moved the meeting for my next film.” I let out a quiet, disbelieving laugh that doesn’t sound anything like amusement. “Jasper already chartered a plane. I have to be in Los Angeles tomorrow morning.”

Disappointment flickers across Jamie’s face, his lips turn down, his brow creases. It only lasts a heartbeat.

Then it’s gone, replaced by the quiet steadiness I’ve come to depend on.

He slides both hands to my arms, rubbing them gently through my suit jacket.

“Okay,” he says, blowing out a shaky breath.

I blink at him in confusion, “Okay?”

“We’ll figure it out,” he says. His voice never wavers.

I wish mine had that kind of certainty.

“I thought. . .” My words trail off as I shake my head, frustration tightening my chest. “I already had these next two days planned. I knew training camp was coming. I knew I had another film waiting for me. I just. . .” I drag a hand across my face before looking back at him. “I wanted those forty-eight hours with you.”

“I know,” he replies, continuing to rub his hands up and down my arms.

“I don’t know how I’m supposed to leave you again.” I confess.

“You don’t have to figure that out right now,” he reaches for my hand, threading our fingers together with the same quiet certainty that’s become as natural as breathing between us.

“Let’s go home, let’s not waste the day.” He smiles reassuringly.

Home. That single word calms some of my worry enough to focus.

Somewhere between stolen mornings, late-night dinners, and falling asleep beside him without ever questioning whether I’d still be there when I woke up, Jamie’s house stopped feeling like the place I’d been staying for the summer.

Without either of us ever talking about it, it simply became home.

I squeeze his hand.