Tears pricked my eyes. Especially when he lifted his head to look into them. I sensed and saw his disappointment. But he didn’t condemn me for my weakness. Instead, he kissed me with such tenderness, it only made me feel worse.
Was I broken?
The thought terrified me.
Because if I couldn’t say it to North … there was no hope of me ever saying it ever again.
Thirty-Three
NORTH
Walker proposed to Sloane at her bakery opening. She said yes!
The text from Aria made me smile as I chugged a bottle of water. Blake was filming a scene between my costars for the rest of the day, and I was enjoying downtime overlooking the gorgeous Lake Como.
Hot sun beat down on my back as I replied.
Happy for them. I’ll need to text Walk.
It didn’t surprise me Walker had proposed to Sloane at the grand opening of her bakery. Aria told me last weekend she thought his proposal was brewing.
Monroe is holding an impromptu engagement dinner for them tonight. I might miss our call.
My gut twisted. Not because she’d miss our nightly call, but because I wished I were going with her. A friend’s engagementdinner sounded like something you were supposed to do as a couple. These things never bothered me before. I’d missed girlfriends’ birthdays, for goodness’ sake, because of filming schedules.
The difference was that Aria was my home, and I felt like together we were making a place for ourselves in Ardnoch, even if I couldn’t be there all the time. I didn’t want to quit—I loved acting too much. But it would take me a while to get used to being so aware of missing out on life events with Aria.
Maybe if she’d tell me she loved me, it wouldn’t bother me so much.
I was trying to be patient, but fuck, it stung every time I said it and she didn’t say it back.
Sighing, my fingers flew over my phone screen.
No probs. Enjoy yourself. We’ll talk later.
Tomorrow we flew to Japan for the last of our location shoots. It was too far for Aria to come visit, so I wouldn’t see her in person for a month. I didn’t know how I’d handle all that time apart, especially with things feeling not quite settled between us.
Aria sent me a blowing-kiss emoji. In return, I snapped a selfie with my back to the lake and a view toward Tremezzo and sent it to her.
Barely a few seconds later, she replied,
Well, now I’m turned on and you’re not here to do anything about it. Thanks. Asshole.
I barked a laugh and typed back,
You’re welcome, gorgeous.
Still smiling, I turned to lean on the wall, staring out at the sun glistening like diamonds across the water. Fuck, I missed her. I stood there for a wee while, enjoying the epic beauty of my location for a bit. They didn’t need me for the rest of today, which meant I wasn’t on camera again until Tokyo, so when my belly grumbled, I decided to take myself off.
I walked up the quaint narrow paths that wound through the mountains between red-tiled-roofed buildings of terra-cottas, pinks, and yellows. Flowers and lush green vegetation bloomed on wrought iron decorative balconies with old-fashioned lamps hanging off shopfront doors. No one even looked at me, even though the residents knew we were filming, and there were plenty of tourists around. It was great. I felt almost normal for once.
Among the stores were a few trattorias to choose from, and I stepped into the cool shade of the nearest one to order a zucchini pasta dish.
Eating it in peace, enjoying the normalcy, the solitude, I would have been annoyed by the buzz of my phone in my pocket if I hadn’t thought it was Aria.
It wasn’t.
The text was from my publicist.
