42. Gemma
FORTY-TWO
GEMMA
“We were robbed.”
“You were not robbed, Aaron, it just didn’t win the award.”
“We. Were. Robbed.”
I sigh heavily, not up for this argument right now. There’s no changing his mind.
He persists, not getting over this that easily. “I’m telling you, Gem. That award was stolen . You have cinematic perfection —a literal masterpiece—and then it just, what? Doesn’t win a single fucking major award? It’s bullshit. That’s how you know this shit is rigged.”
I turn to face him in the back of the sprinter van, smoothing out the short hem of my dress over the tops of my thighs, which catches his eyes for a second, derailing his rant for a single moment.
“For the last time,” I tell him, sighing. “ We’re the Millers is not the greatest movie ever made.”
He gasps at me, drawing his neck back in abject horror. “You take that back,” he tells me.
I shake my head at what an idiot he is.
“You have Rachel Greene as a stripper, playing the fake wife of Ted fucking Lasso as a drug runner. Icons . Silver screen legends on their own. And then you add in a punk ass little chick as his fake daughter, and the nerdiest kid imaginable as his fake son. Find me one fault with that movie. I dare you,” he challenges me, his voice indignant.
“You’re ridiculous,” I tell him, leaning him to peck him on the lips. I know he’s trying not to focus too much on his own award nomination, or get his hopes up for winning it. He’s up against some major competition, including one of the actors who inspired him to get into the business in the first place. I know he doesn’t really think he has a chance of winning, he’s on a high just from being nominated, but I’m feeling pretty confident about tonight. Just not going to tell him that and get his hopes up. I’ll be here, by his side, supporting him throughout it whichever way it goes, and beyond.
He keeps one of his hands on my bare thigh, skimming the skin softly with his thumb as we approach the venue. We’re in LA for the week, where he hasn’t had to come out to all that much in the last couple of years with all the production happening in Atlanta, but this trip was definitely worth it.
He gives me one final kiss on the cheek when the van pulls to a stop, and asks me, “Ready?”
I give him a small smile and nod, trying not to let my nerves show. I’ve never done a red carpet, and I don’t think I was particularly made for the limelight. But I do firmly believe that I was made for this man by my side, and he for me, so I’ll gladly walk it with him.
When the door opens, he gets out first, then offers me his hand. I climb out with his assistance—still getting used to these heels, but #worthit—and he places his hand on my low back (okay, a little lower than that if we’re being honest), and helps me lead the way down the red carpet. He pauses us every so often, facing several directions each time so the cameras can get the pics they came for. It’s not as bad as I was afraid of, mostly because I have the warmth of the man next to me to bask in as he positively glows as he stares down at me. He looks so fine in that dark gray suit with the black shirt underneath, I wasn’t sure I could keep my hands off him until after this thing is over, but I’m proud to say I made it the entire length of the press alley without groping him in front of the cameras.
At the end of the red carpet, we’re greeted by his publicist (she is enthused over his “performance for the press”—her words, not mine) and an usher, and are escorted to our seats. We’re a lot closer to the front than he’s sat in previous years, and I’m trying not to read into it, but I can’t help but think that’s a real good sign.
The host is funny all night, but when he makes a totally politically incorrect joke about the star of Midnight Empire , it makes Aaron laugh harder than most of the audience, because it was a little too true. He clutches my hand a bit harder in some moments than others, and I know that’s when his nerves are getting to him.
When I asked him on the way here if he had a speech prepared, he shook his head. “I don’t want to jinx it,” he said. “There’s like a two percent chance I’ll win, but if I prep a speech, it’ll be a negative two percent chance, I can feel it.” He said if he really won, he’d think on his feet, speak from the heart. If he hadn’t been so nervous about tonight, I would’ve quipped back there’s a reason we practice his lines from a script, an ad libber he is not. But I’m here to keep him centered tonight, no matter how this plays out, so I just gave him a peck and a whispered promise of what we’ll do later to celebrate his first nomination.
About an hour and a half into the evening, his category, Best Supporting Actor in a TV series, is up. There’s a camerawoman in the aisle next to us, focusing on him, ready for his reaction, either way. I squeeze his hand in unity, trying to tell him with my touch that this is his first nomination of many. Winning your first nomination is rare, but it’s not rare to keep getting nominated after that first one. And I’ll be by his side to celebrate his accomplishments, however this goes.
He leans over and kisses my temple right before the announcers take the stage and read out the nominees. The camera makes a soft whirring noise as it zooms in on his face, and he nods humbly when his face comes on the giant screen as his nomination is read out.
And then the envelope is opened, and they announce the winner.
The love of my life.
Aaron Stone, for his role in Midnight Empire .
Cheers erupt in the theater. I can hear Alex whooping especially loud from somewhere behind us and to the left, and the applause from his peers, those he admires above all others in his craft, is nearly deafening. The show is a sensation, and has been for a while now, but his character has had an amazing arc recently, and it looks like I’m far from the only one who’s noticed how special this guy is.
Aaron is in shock for about three seconds, then he leans his head back and lets out a noise I can’t possibly describe, but let’s call it animalistic, and very, very joyful. He’s laughing, wrapping me in his arms as we both stand, and he rocks me side to side for a little too long before I push him off me to get up on stage. The camera follows him as he goes, another one tracking his progress from the front.
I don’t think I’ve ever seen such a big smile on his face before, and I will remember this moment forever.
He takes the stairs two at a time until he greets the presenters, shaking their hands, kissing the cheek of the female and doing a bro-hug combo with the guy. They hand him the award, and he grips it with both hands, like he can’t believe this isn’t a dream.
He leans down a little to reach the mic, the statue in one hand, his other flat on the podium.
“Shit!” he calls out jovially. “Ah, crap! I can’t say that, can I?” he asks, looking offstage, where a stagehand is shaking their head rapidly with wide eyes.
“I’m sorry! This is why my girlfriend told me to write a speech, isn’t it?” Chuckles and laughter break out across the audience, and the camera in our aisle zooms in on me. I can feel my cheeks heating with a blush as I shake my head lovingly at him, my lower lip between my teeth as I watch him up there.
“Y’all, I really didn’t think I was gonna win this thing, and I don’t have anything prepared. But I do have a lot of people to thank who make it possible for me to live my dreams out, so I can be in this amazing show and somehow win this award right here.” He pumps his fist that’s clutching the golden award, and a few hoots and hollers ring out.
“First off, the showrunners, producers, directors, cast and crew of Midnight Empire . Each and every one of you make this show what it is, and it’s an honor to get to work with each of you day in and day out. Everyone who voted for me. Not sure why the heck you picked me when there are literal legends up in this category, but if I’m dreaming, please don’t wake me up yet.” More chuckles sound around me.
“My agent, publicist, everyone on my team, all y’all who took a chance on me, it takes a lot to make the magic happen on camera and get it out to the world, and I appreciate you all so much for what you do to make it happen.” A warm smile lights his face, and he looks around the room.
“My family, my parents, have supported my career goals since I was a kid. They uprooted us from a little town in Alabama and moved us down to the Hollywood of the South to help me start my acting career, and they’ve helped me more than I can or should say on network television. But let me just say that thank you isn’t nearly enough. I love you Mom, Dad.”
My eyes were already tearing, but now my vision is blurring, as I read between the lines of all he’s saying, and all he isn’t.
“And, uh,” he goes on. “When my super smart girlfriend said I should have a speech prepared ‘just in case’,” he makes air quotes on that, “I told her I wouldn’t need it, but if I somehow won, I’d speak from the heart, so that’s what I’m gonna do.” His eyes seek me out for just an instant before he continues. “There’s someone else who has been with me from the very beginning of my career, at the ripe old age of thirteen, and they haven’t gotten nearly enough credit for helping me get this far. I would’ve given up countless times without their encouragement and support. I would’ve gone crazy without the sanity they bring into my life. I can say without a single doubt, I would not be up here today, not doing what I love every day of my life without all they’ve done for me over the years—which is a lot more than I can fit into a short speech when they’re motioning at me to get offstage right now.” He shoots a smirk at someone the camera can’t see, and keeps going, even as quiet music starts playing to encourage him to wrap it up. “I promise I’m almost done. But I seriously owe such a huge part of my life, my joy, my success to this person, and I want everyone who can hear me now to know that I appreciate this person’s efforts more than I can possibly say, but I’ll keep trying, anyway. Gem, you’re the love of my life, and you always have been. There’s a reason we were brought together so young in life, it was always supposed to be us, forever. I’m so damn lucky to have you on this journey with me. I thank the universe for you every single day. Thank you, not just for putting up with me, but for building this life with me. More than anyone, this award is because of you. And this is for you, baby.”
Tears are freely streaming down my face, and try as I might to wipe them away, I can’t catch them all, so I give up. He’s led offstage, along with the presenters, amid cheers, wolf whistles and lots and lots of applause. There’s not a single voice I can hear that’s louder than the distinctive holler that belongs to Alex.
The host reclaims the stage for himself, but every fiber of my being is focused on Aaron, waiting for him to rejoin me. I’m so fucking impatient to jump into his arms, but until they pause filming for the next commercial break, he can’t get back to me, and I’m not supposed to leave my seat during a presentation, either.
The second they pause for a break, I can’t take it anymore. I dart out of my seat, down the aisle to the back, while more faces than I can recognize—even as a former tabloid junkie—turn to stare and smile as I practically run to the rear of the room.
Sure enough, he’s caught up talking to a hot director I know he’d salivate for the chance to work with. But he sees me headed for him, holds up a finger to the other man and breaks away from him, facing me with arms out wide.
I don’t care who’s watching, what’s proper or not, I jump straight into his arms, wrapping my legs around his waist, bury my face in his neck and hold on to him for dear life. His arms band around my body, holding me to him tightly, hands rubbing me up and down as we both laugh tearily.
“You did it,” I tell him proudly. “You fucking did it.”
“We did it, baby,” he says with the most genuine smile in the world. “There’s only one way to make this night better,” he tells me.
He places me down again, and I straighten out my dress, making sure it hasn’t ridden up too high after that little stunt.
“Yeah?” I ask him, and I can feel my eyes sparkling as I say it.
“Yeah,” he growls back at me. He grabs my hand and leads me out of the auditorium, through the grand lobby and to a quiet, plush alcove off to one side, draped in velvet.
I look around us nervously. There aren’t really people visible right now, but this space is hardly what I’d call private. No kink shaming here, but public play isn’t exactly what gets me going. I like a little excitement, but knowing that the head of his studio, or my teen celebrity crush could find us in a compromising position…well that freaks me out more than anything.
“Can you wait till we get in the car?” I ask him.
“No,” he says, and he means it. My throat bobs, my blood warms at the look in his eyes, and I start to wonder if maybe this isn’t a bad idea after all.
“I need to do this now ,” he says, and he drops to his knee.
One.
Singular.
Knee.
(Not both.)
I try to swallow, but my throat is stuck trying to process my breathing, which isn’t going so great rn either.
One hand goes into the pocket on the inside of his jacket, and he pulls out a small black velvet box. It’s all I can do not to hyperventilate at the sight of him, that box in hand, that look in his eye, especially after that speech he just made in front of forty million viewers and absolutely anyone and everyone in his industry.
He opens the box and an absolutely stunning ring sits within it, staring up at me. It’s fairly simple, a plain silver band with the most gorgeous rock I’ve ever seen—large, but not obnoxious, emerald cut, with beveled edges that make it look somehow vintage and modern at the same time.
“I promised myself if I somehow won tonight, that meant luck was on my side and I’d do this tonight, instead of waiting for when we’re on our vacation this summer. Make me the luckiest man in the world, Gem. Make our forever official.”
He takes the ring out and holds it up, his hand shaking slightly in the moment.
I nod my head and squeal, “Yes, yes, yes!” as I dive for his face, taking it between my hands and kissing him.
He stands up faster than I was prepared for, his bad knee cracking with the motion, and whisks me up off my feet, spinning us around a couple times, before placing me down again. He pulls back, staring into my eyes with those bright tanzanite ones of his, and then he looks down at my finger as he slides the ring on. It’s a perfect fit, because of course it is. This man nails everything he does when it comes to me.
“Yes?” he asks again, hands still holding mine.
“Yes!” I say back, because apparently I can’t form a single other word. But my smile damn near reaches my eyes and I think that’s enough for him.
“You’ll be…” he pauses dramatically, looking between my ring finger and my eyes, this stupid grin on his face. “Mrs. Gem Stone?” he asks, like he just dropped the punch line of a joke.
My head drops back and I let out the most unladylike cackle I’ve ever heard.
“That was the cheesiest thing you’ve ever said, Stone.” I’m still laughing, though, so I guess I like the cheese factor?
“You gonna tell me that shit isn’t fate?” he whispers against my lips, coming back in for another kiss. “Our names even go together, Gem. This was always meant to be.”
“I guess so,” I tell him, nuzzling his nose with mine and placing a gentle kiss on his lips.
“Our forever begins now,” he tells me against my lips.
I shake my head no, and he pulls back to look down at me, a little puzzled.
“No?” he asks. “Too soon?” He looks slightly worried, but I put his fears at ease.
“Our forever began almost thirteen years ago, Stone. We’ve been living it every day since.”
And that’s what we keep doing. Forever. Together.