Chapter 42

Cast in scene

Olivia Lopez as Amelia

Zoya Aldeeb as AURORA

1,2,3 and... action!

The set was eerily quiet, the kind of silence that only happened when everyone was holding their breath, waiting for the perfect shot. The lighting bathed the room in a soft glow, highlighting the tension between Amelia and Aurora as they stood face to face, their emotions hanging thick in the air.

I could feel Zoya’s steady gaze locked onto me, her eyes filled with a blend of longing and uncertainty that mirrored my own. It was too easy—too natural—to get lost in it, to forget that we were Olivia and Zoya and not Amelia and Aurora.

"Why do you keep running from me?" I said, my voice softer than intended, laced with something that wasn’t entirely scripted.

Zoya, as Aurora, swallowed hard, her jaw tightening. "Because I’m afraid of what happens if I stop."

I took a step closer, closing the space between us, and I swore I could hear her breathing hitch. "Then don’t," I whispered, my hand reaching up to gently brush against her cheek.

She didn’t pull away.

The tension built, thick and intoxicating, until it felt like the air itself was charged with something electric. My heart pounded in my chest, and I could see the same battle happening in Zoya’s eyes.

And then, just as the script demanded, I leaned in.

Our lips met in a soft, tentative kiss that deepened within seconds, the emotions we’d been holding back bleeding into it effortlessly. The moment stretched, lingering longer than it should have, and in that instant, it didn’t feel like we were acting at all.

Ezra’s voice cut through the air. "And... cut!"

But neither of us moved.

For a few heartbeats too long, we stayed there, foreheads pressed together, our breaths mingling, lost in the aftermath of the kiss.

It wasn’t until I heard the murmurs from the crew around us that I realized we hadn’t pulled away yet. My eyes snapped open, and I took a shaky step back, suddenly hyper-aware of the world around us again.

Zoya’s eyes were wide, searching mine for something I wasn’t ready to give just yet.

The whispers started immediately, murmurs of speculation sweeping through the set like wildfire.

Before the tension could become unbearable, Anthony’s voice cut through the noise. “It’s normal to take a second to break character after an intense scene,” he said, his tone casual but authoritative, silencing the chatter. “Happens all the time.”

I glanced at him, relief flooding through me, and offered a grateful smile.

Zoya noticed.

I could see it in the way her jaw tightened ever so slightly, the flicker of something in her eyes—something she quickly masked.

Ezra cleared his throat, pulling our attention back. "Alright, let’s reset for the next scene. Olivia, Zoya, take a breather if you need to."

I nodded, stepping back further, feeling the weight of Zoya’s gaze still lingering on me.

She didn’t say anything, but I could tell she had noticed my reaction to Anthony’s support.

And somehow, I knew this conversation wasn’t over.

I shut the dressing room door behind me and pressed my back against it, closing my eyes for a moment. My heart was still racing, the phantom touch of Zoya’s lips lingering like a whisper against mine. I could still hear the murmurs from the set—the hushed voices, the barely contained excitement that followed us after Ezra yelled cut.

It wasn’t supposed to feel this real.

I ran a hand through my hair, my fingers trembling slightly. This was acting. Just acting. But the way Zoya looked at me in those final moments before we pulled apart, the way I couldn’t bring myself to step away until I heard the whispers—it all felt too raw, too honest.

A soft knock on the door pulled me from my thoughts. I didn’t need to ask who it was. Zoya slipped inside quietly, her eyes searching mine.

Neither of us spoke at first, the air between us charged with something we were both too afraid to name.

“You okay?” she finally asked, her voice softer than I expected, careful.

I forced a smile, the kind I’d mastered over the years—one that said I’m fine even when I wasn’t. “Yeah, just... catching my breath.”

Zoya took a step closer, her expression unreadable. “It felt different, didn’t it?”

I swallowed hard, looking away. “We were just in the moment,” I said, my voice thinner than I wanted it to be. “That’s what Ezra wanted.”

Her lips pressed together, and she sighed. “Olivia... you looked at Anthony.”

I blinked, my stomach twisting. “What?”

Zoya tilted her head, her eyes narrowing slightly. “After the kiss. You looked at him like you needed him to ground you.”

I stiffened, wrapping my arms around myself. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Zoya took another step forward, close enough that I could feel her warmth, close enough that it hurt. “You always do this,” she murmured, and there was no accusation in her voice—just quiet sadness. “You push me away and run to the safest option.”

“That’s not fair.” My voice cracked, and I hated how small I sounded.

Zoya shook her head, stepping back. “You know what’s not fair? Me being left in the dark while you figure out what you want.”

She turned toward the door, and panic spiked in my chest.

“Zoya, wait—”

“Figure it out, Olivia,” she said, and then she was gone, leaving me standing there, feeling like the walls were closing in.

I barely had time to breathe before I was called into Ezra’s office.

The room was dimly lit, with footage of our kiss playing on the large monitor behind his desk. The way he watched it, pausing at precise moments, made my stomach churn.

The silence in Ezra’s office was suffocating. The only sound came from the monitor behind him, the still frame frozen on our kiss—on the moment that had sent the entire set buzzing.

Ezra leaned back in his chair, fingers steepled together as he watched me carefully. “That was... intense.”

I crossed my arms, trying to suppress the nervous energy running through me. “We were following the script.”

He tilted his head, his lips curving into something that wasn’t quite a smile. “Were you?”

I swallowed hard, feeling like a specimen under a microscope.

“Your chemistry with Zoya is undeniable,” he continued, his tone cool, calculated. “But it needs to stay on-screen.”

I clenched my jaw. “It is on-screen.”

Ezra’s eyes darkened, and he leaned forward. “Let’s make sure it stays that way.”

A chill crawled down my spine. “Are you telling me to stay away from her?”

He tapped his fingers against the desk, his expression neutral. “I’m telling you to be careful who you trust.”

My stomach churned. “Zoya isn’t the problem.”

Ezra smirked, the kind that made me feel like I was three steps behind him. “Maybe not. But perception is everything, Olivia. You don’t want to give the press more fuel than they already have.”

I swallowed the lump in my throat, nodding tightly. “Got it.”

As I left his office, I couldn’t shake the feeling that he wasn’t just looking out for the show—he was looking out for himself.

The set felt different when I stepped back onto it, as if everyone’s eyes lingered on me a second too long. Or maybe I was just imagining it. Either way, I needed an anchor.

I spotted Zoya across the room, standing by the props table, laughing with one of the crew members. The sight of her—so effortlessly beautiful, so painfully out of reach—made my chest tighten.

I hesitated for a moment, my feet rooted to the ground. And that’s when I felt a hand on my arm.

“Rough day?”

Anthony.

I turned to him, offering a weak smile. “Yeah, something like that.”

His gaze softened, his fingers brushing lightly against mine. “You know I’m here, right?”

I nodded, but something inside me shifted. His touch felt different now—less reassuring, more... suffocating.

I won’t let her go again.

The silent promise rang through me, louder than the doubts, louder than the fear.

I stepped back from Anthony, offering him a grateful but firm look. “Thanks, Anthony. But I’ve got all the support I need.”

He blinked, caught off guard, but I didn’t give him time to respond.

Before I could think twice, I walked straight to Zoya.

She looked up as I approached, surprise flickering across her face. I didn’t say a word—I just reached out, offering my hand to her, palm open and waiting.

Zoya glanced down at my hand, then up at the set, noticing the way everyone’s eyes were suddenly on us. I saw the hesitation in her eyes, the fear of what this meant.

But then, she smiled.

Slowly, she reached out and laced her fingers with mine, squeezing gently. A soft murmur swept through the set, but I didn’t care.

Zoya’s eyes searched mine, a hint of a teasing smile on her lips. “Where exactly are we going?”

I smiled back, holding her hand tightly. “We’re going home. Together. Like I promised.”

Her grip on my hand tightened, and for the first time in a long time, I felt steady.

We walked off the set together, ignoring the whispers, ignoring the world—because in this moment, none of it mattered.

Zoya was all that mattered.

The quiet hum of the city drifted through the window as Zoya and I entered the apartment, the tension of the day slowly easing from my shoulders. It felt surreal being here with her, away from the cameras, the whispers, and the prying eyes. Just the two of us.

Zoya dropped her bag by the couch, turning to me with a soft smile. “We finally made it.”

I let out a small laugh, wrapping my arms around her waist. “Yeah. It’s just us now.”

She looked up at me, her eyes searching mine. “Are you okay? With everything?”

I cupped her cheek gently, letting my thumb trace the soft curve of her skin. “I am now.”

Her lips curved into a small, hesitant smile before she leaned in, pressing a slow, lingering kiss against mine. The warmth of her touch spread through me, anchoring me to this moment—where nothing else mattered but us.

We pulled away just enough to rest our foreheads together, breathing in the same air, hearts beating in sync.

But then my phone buzzed, shattering the peace between us.

I sighed, pulling away and checking the screen. Ava.

I hesitated before answering, feeling an uneasy weight settle in my chest. “Hello?”

“Where are you?” Ava’s voice came through, sharp and direct.

I frowned, exchanging a glance with Zoya. “Why do you want to know?” I asked cautiously, my guard immediately rising.

“Liv, no time for games,” she snapped. “I couldn’t stop Elijah, and you need to watch the news. Now.”

My stomach dropped. “What do you mean you couldn’t stop him?”

Ava’s sigh was heavy, frustrated. “Just turn on the damn news.”

I hung up without another word, my hands already moving to grab my tablet from the counter. Zoya stood beside me, her brows furrowed in concern as I quickly searched for Elijah’s name.

And there it was.

BREAKING NEWS: Elijah Lopez Announces Separation from Wife Olivia – Cites Personal Reasons

My chest tightened as I clicked on the article, a video clip autoplaying. Elijah stood at a press conference, looking calm, collected—prepared.

“As of today, Olivia and I have decided to separate,” he said, his voice devoid of any emotion. “We’re handling this privately, and I ask that everyone respect our personal space during this time.”

No reasons. No blame. Just enough to fuel speculation and ignite every tabloid in existence.

But it didn’t stop there.

Zoya gasped beside me, and I followed her gaze to a smaller article attached to the main story. It featured a picture—us, walking out of the set earlier, hand in hand.

‘The Real Reason Behind the Split? Olivia Lopez Seen Holding Hands with Co-Star Eldeeb’

A lump formed in my throat. “How did they even get this picture?” Zoya whispered, her voice tinged with disbelief. “We just left.”

I exhaled, shaking my head. “It’s obvious now, isn’t it? Someone from the crew.” My mind raced, ticking through the possibilities. Ezra, Anthony... even the smallest production assistant could be feeding the press.

Zoya crossed her arms, eyes scanning the article again. “And now it’s out there. No more hiding.”

I turned to face her, my heart pounding in my chest. “How do you feel about all this?”

She hesitated, looking down for a moment before meeting my gaze with quiet determination. “I think... it’s a lot. But Olivia, I care about you. And I can’t keep pretending I don’t.”

I swallowed hard, the weight of everything pressing down on me. “I’ve made up my mind,” I said slowly, my voice steady despite the storm raging inside me. “I’m done hiding. If this costs me my career, then so be it. I wasn’t happy with it anyway.”

Zoya’s eyes softened, but there was a flicker of worry in them.

“I want to be free,” I continued. “And I want to win you, Zoya.”

Zoya’s lips parted slightly, her breath catching.

I took her hands in mine, squeezing gently. “But... you have to know that this could end your career before it even starts. Are you sure this is what you want?”

Zoya didn’t answer right away. She looked away, thinking—really thinking. And for a moment, I was afraid of what she might say.

Then, after a deep breath, she looked back at me with unwavering resolve. “If the fans choose to end our careers because we’re two women in love, then so be it.”

A wave of emotion crashed over me, and I pulled her into a tight embrace, burying my face in her shoulder. “Thank you,” I whispered, feeling my heart finally settle.

For the first time in a long time, I wasn’t afraid anymore.