When the film ended, they all exited the theater together.
“That wasn’t the worst rom-com I’ve ever seen,” Troy decided as they walked up the black ramp.
“I loved it.” Emily squeezed Gemma’s arm, beaming like the movie’s own happy ending.
Gemma and Caitlin both stayed quiet as they made their way down the carpeted hallway with its abstract brown, red, andyellow patterns. They stepped outside into the refreshing fall air. Gemma inhaled as if she hadn’t taken a full breath since they had gone inside.
“Well, enjoy the rest of your night.” Gemma waved goodbye and walked down the sidewalk, pulling Emily along by the hand.
Before Gemma could stop herself, she turned to look back. Caitlin hadn’t moved, watching with something that looked like sadness as Gemma left with Emily. She wasn’t even trying to hide the emotion on her face from Troy, but he looked clueless as ever, glued to something on his phone.
Gemma almost stopped. She almost turned back to close the distance and ask if Caitlin was all right, or to demand an answer that would stop the constant ache in her chest. But she didn’t. Caitlin was not her responsibility. Far from it—she had been the one to push Gemma away. If Caitlin had something left to say, she knew where she could find her. Gemma had planned this night for Emily, and she’d be damned if she let Caitlin ruin it.
“Do you want to…” Gemma hesitated, but when she saw Emily’s smile, it eased her worries. “Sleep over tonight?”
“I’d love to.” There was a little extra spring in Emily’s step as they walked back to Gemma’s house.
Gemma tightened her grip on Emily’s hand, determined not to let Caitlin tear down what she and Emily were building.
SEVENTEEN
THEY WERE OFFICIALLY ONE MONTHinto shootingForbidden Love, and the title was starting to feel like a reflection of Caitlin’s real life. Each day left her feeling more disoriented than the last. The kiss, even though scripted, had stirred something intense and entirely unplanned. She had felt it deep in her bones and desperately wished to talk to Gemma about it. Caitlin needed to know how she had felt, first, before making any rash decisions.
She predicted that today would only add another complication to the matter—filming their sex scene. Mrs. Ryan had been very clear about what she wanted the moment to convey and insisted on a bold portrayal of both the physical and emotional exchanges between the two women.
Filming intimate scenes had always made Caitlin a little uncomfortable, no matter the setting. It was a vulnerable position for an actor to be in, with multiple cameras and a crew watching as they got nearly naked and pretended to have sex. Ugh, and the worst part was having to fake an orgasm. On the plus side, it would be with Gemma this time. On the downside… it would be with Gemma this time.HerGemma.
Luckily, Caitlin had a little time before that intimatemoment would come. She had to film a scene with her on-screen husband first.
Caitlin eased into her role as Kate, whose husband had forbidden her from seeing Sarah again after he learned about their growing relationship. But Kate couldn’t stay away.
One night, after her husband got drunk and passed out on the couch in his study, Kate slipped out of the house to see Sarah, which led straight into the scene that Caitlin had been anxiously dreading.
Mrs. Ryan called the cast and crew together and introduced the intimacy coordinator, whose role was to advocate for the actresses’ comfort and to facilitate the scene with the director and the limited personnel who would be present during filming. For the duration of this scene, the coordinator would oversee the entire set to ensure consistent consent and communication.
Once the carefully orchestrated moment had been set, Caitlin and Gemma took their places. Caitlin had no idea how this would play out after they had barely made it through the kissing scene together, but the second Gemma’s eyes met hers across the staged bedroom, Caitlin felt her tension ease. Gemma was—and would always be—her safe space. It was just a biological fact.
The head of wardrobe collected both of the women’s robes and stepped away. Caitlin couldn’t bring herself to look directly at Gemma. It was the first time she would see her ex in the nude again, after almost a decade. And it was going to happen in front of eight complete strangers.
“And… action!” The assistant director shouted, forcing Caitlin’s gaze up at the last minute.
Gemma glided across the room with lithe, athletic grace. At the edge of the bed, she hesitated, and Caitlin wondered if she was also thinking about their bare skin reconnecting after all this time. Gemma eased herself underneath the white sheets,awkwardly lying her body on top of Caitlin’s.
“Cut!” Mrs. Ryan snapped. “Where’s the passion? Where’s the longing? What the hellwasthat?”
Feeling chastised, both women returned to their marks and started again. This time, when Gemma climbed into the bed with Caitlin, it was smooth, but Caitlin could see the wild look in Gemma’s wide, dark eyes. She was scared. This moment felt bigger than either of them, bigger than the movie, and neither one of them had a clue what they were doing. All that helplessness made everything feel unbearably urgent.
Caitlin’s lips were about to crash into Gemma’s before they heard “Cut!” and splintered apart.
Mrs. Ryan huffed as she moved toward them. “Do I need to find two replacements that will actually do this the way that I want?”
Caitlin and Gemma shook their heads in unison, afraid the director might be serious.
Shit.
Caitlin took pride in being easy to work with—leave it to Gemma to tarnish her reputation, intentional or not.
“Let’s take lunch, and when we get back, I’d better see two women madly in love.”
