Page 72 of Words I Couldn't Say
TODAY WAS IT.WRAP DAY. We’d been filmingThose Three Wordsfor ten weeks, and we were finally going to be done except for any reshoots the studio might order later. Working on this project had completely opened my eyes. It was a grueling process, less glitz and glamour and more hard work, sweat, excruciatingly long days, and not enough sleep. I even joked with Tucker that, once I was finished I, was sleeping for a week. And I didn’t mean the fun kind.
Layla had even come to town, and on one rare night where we were released before the sun went down, the four of us would enjoy dinner on a riverboat as it slowly glided down the Ohio River. She was as refreshing as she seemed, and watching the two of them appear to be so normal even in the height of his fame was awe-inspiring. If the two of them were any indication, Tucker and I would be just fine.
Not that I needed the encouragement. Once we’d both admitted that we were in this for the long haul, everything had fallen into place. I officially moved in with him—not that anyone had thought it had been unofficial before. When we had the time, he took me out on dates and we spent all our free time making up for, well, lost time. It killed me to keep the truth from Tawni, but at the end of the day, she was happy for me, even if she lamented the possibility of losing her roommate. I’d laughed it off at the time. The thing was, however, the closer I got to returning to California, the more I dreaded it. The routine Tucker and I had fallen into was the best version of playing house I could have ever imagined. I had no clue how I was supposed to walk away.
Unfortunately, that time was coming all too soon.
A few weeks ago, we’d been scheduled to film the final scene, but that had changed for some reason. Instead, they’d decided to shoot the final scene on what was supposed to be our last filming day. I’d never been more nervous in my life. This was the culmination of a heart-wrenching story and I wasn’t sure if my own heart would be able to make it through.
My nerves were for two reasons, really. The final scene, to me, was one of the most pivotal. In it, Abby was both grieving and realizing she could go on, if not just for herself, but for her son. There was a tipping point, and I just prayed I could capture those emotions. Three months ago, I could’ve portrayed a heartbroken mess with extreme ease. Now, however, I was the happiest I’d ever been in my life and the last thing I wanted was to channel my inner anguish. Or even contemplate being in the same boat. But, for the movie—and for Tucker—I would do it to the best of my ability.
The second reason I was nervous was that I didn’t know what was going to happen with Tucker and me. We’d talked about long distance. It was the last thing I wanted to do. But the reality was that I was scheduled to fly back to Los Angeles next week, where Martin had already lined up weeks’ worth of interviews and magazine shoots. That didn’t even include promotion obligations for the movie, which would start in a few short months.
We had less than a week left together, and I had no idea where we’d be when that day came. Would he want me to stay? Would he want to come with me?
Heck, did I want to stay or go? I’d been racking my brain for days to figure out the best-case scenario to keep us together, and my heart was torn in two.
Jonathan stuck his head in my trailer. “Ava, you ready?”
I bit my lower lip. Then I squared my shoulders and stared into the mirror, the image of Abigail looking back at me. I didn’t think I’d ever be ready to leave Tucker. But this was Abigail’s story now.
“As ready as I’ll ever be.”
I’d been repeatedly asked—if I had been writing a love story, why had I killed off the main character? Why would I have brought Trevor and Abby back together just to rip them apart again? The truth was…
I didn’t know the answer.
I’d often heard authors say that their characters speak for themselves. And I’d always thought it was bullshit. That was until Trevor and Abby. Because I was ready to settle down for the happily-ever-after I so desperately wanted for Ava and myself. And, well, that’s not what happened.
There was a lesson in the story I’d written. One my characters learned the hard way. I’d thought I had also learned it myself. I’d written the most tragic outcome that could befall a couple in hopes it would maybe touch one heart and that person, instead of letting love slip through his fingers, would hold on for dear life and never let go. None of us know when it’s our time to go. So, why waste the time we do have separated from the one we love the most?
When the cameras started rolling, my eyes were glued to Ava.
That was when I knew it. That was why I had written this. Perhaps it wasn’t just that the story was for us, about us. But Iknew, deep down in my soul, that this was the role she was supposed to play. Because she was brilliant. Breathtaking. She ripped everyone’s hearts out with her wails. Though I couldn’t tear my eyes from her, I knew there wasn’t a dry one in the house. A PA next to me was sniffling, and the sound of tissues being ripped from a box echoed behind me.
God damn. She was perfect.
“And cut.” The harsh slap of the clapperboard echoed throughout the otherwise silent set.
Nothing happened. Ava held on to Brantley, the adorable two-year-old child actor who was portraying Abby and Trevor’s young son. She rocked him on the bed, kissing the top of his head as tears streamed down her face. A small laugh escaped her when he tired of the embrace and wiggled away from her. That’s when she rested back against the headboard, her head down, her chest convulsing.
I couldn’t stand it any longer. Pushing past the director, I made my way onto set and crawled into the bed with her, drawing her into my arms so her back was settled against my chest. One arm wrapped around her front, and she clung to my bicep. Sobs racked through her, and I prayed to fucking God that one take was all they needed.
I smoothed her hair out, hoping to calm her down. “It’s okay, baby. I’m here,” I whispered.
Her sobs lessened, and she turned to look up at me. “Always?”
I tilted her chin, and right before I kissed her lips, I responded. “Forever.”
Ava clutched my arm even tighter as our lips met. We were lost in our own fucking world, kissing as if our lives depended on it. Kissing as if we’d been the ones in that fucking damned story and we knew our time was limited. That this moment would be our last.
