Chapter 26
TWENTY-SIX
THE DAY CAITLIN WALKED OUT on Gemma had haunted her like a ghost ever since.
The years after the breakup had been unbearable as she learned to live with her decision, but nothing could match the gut-wrenching reality of seeing the damage she had caused.
Witnessing Gemma’s raw pain nearly a decade later had completely ruined Caitlin.
She hated herself back then—now, she couldn’t even look in the mirror.
Self-loathing consumed her as she thought about the heartache she had caused the woman she loves.
Learning that Gemma had planned to propose that summer felt like a final, cruel twist of a knife that cut deeper than any apology could heal.
Caitlin was grateful beyond words for the success of her career.
She had achieved a dream that few people ever got to live, but the cost had been too high.
She didn’t know if she could ever come back from what she’d done.
Maybe she didn’t deserve to. Hearing that Gemma might never trust her again had hit Caitlin like a wrecking ball, demolishing whatever fragile hope remained of winning her back.
By the final day on set, Caitlin felt bleak. As filming came to an end, so would her time with Gemma.
The final scene of the movie showed Kate leaving her husband to run after the woman she loved—the easiest, truest thing Caitlin had ever been asked to portray. This scene wouldn’t be acting. She planned on fighting for Gemma until her last breath.
They took their marks outside the Broadway theater where Kate and Sarah’s story had begun, the city holding its breath as Caitlin and Gemma faced each other.
Kate had waited outside for Sarah to finish her performance that night. When Sarah at last emerged from the double doors, the theater lights illuminating her from behind, a tear slid down Kate’s cheek before a single word could leave her mouth.
Sarah spotted her at once, noticing the packed bags at her feet. She ran up to Kate and wrapped her arms around her neck.
“You’re here.” Sarah beamed with relief that her love had come back.
“Darling, I can’t live without you.” Kate gently tucked a strand of hair behind Sarah’s ear. “I’m sorry I didn’t fight for you. For us. I love you so much. Could you ever forgive me?”
“Always and forever,” Sarah whispered, tears in her eyes.
Gemma’s eyes widened slightly at her slip—“and forever” was not part of the script, but the words had come out as naturally as a breath.
Caitlin recognized its source immediately. She herself had been reminded of their habitual sign-off when she’d reread the unsent letter just before giving it to Gemma.
The line hung between them, heavier than any scripted moment could, charged with something raw and true. It was no longer just Kate and Sarah. This was Caitlin and Gemma.
She grabbed Gemma’s face and kissed her with the promise of forever.
For Kate and Sarah, the kiss marked the beginning of a life lived happily ever after. For Caitlin, it felt like a final goodbye.
Caitlin held Gemma close, desperate and urgent, using her tongue to apologize in the only language she had left. She needed Gemma to know, above all else, that she would love her for the rest of their lives.
When McKenzie Ryan called a wrap, she wiped her eyes and told them the finale was better than she’d ever imagined. She praised Gemma and Caitlin for bringing Kate and Sarah to life, even calling the movie a “career highlight.”
The rest of the evening passed in a soft blur of motion and glam for the customary wrap party.
The hair and makeup team had met Caitlin in her suite directly after finishing the scene, while Lara packed her things for the flight back to LA the next day.
The quiet logistics of leaving layered over her lingering ache.
Finally alone in her room, Caitlin sat in the silence of her suite, taking a minute to herself before the chaos of the party. Feeling adrift and needing an anchor, she dialed Maddie.
“Filming’s finally over,” Caitlin said, voice flat, when Maddie answered.
“I’m sorry, Cait. Maybe it’s for the best,” Maddie offered gently.
“I still love her, Mads.”
“I know you do.”
Caitlin let out a long, hollow sigh. “She doesn’t want me anymore.”
“You know that’s not true,” Maddie said softly. “I saw the way she looked at you that night at the bar—as if you made the sun rise every morning. But yeah, she’s hurt. And if her healing requires you to let her go, you’ll have to find a way to do it.”
“I put that old letter in her trailer before I left set yesterday,” she admitted.
Caitlin had told Maddie about the pages that she had carried from city to city, including New York.
She didn’t know what she’d gain by giving it to Gemma now, but there was no reason for her to hold onto it any longer.
“I’m not even sure why—a last-ditch effort, I guess. ”
“I know it sucks right now.” Maddie sounded soothing and genuine. “But if you’re destined to be together, you’ll find your way back to each other.”
“I adore how much you believe in happily ever afters, Mads,” Caitlin managed.
“If only I could find one for myself.” Maddie laughed half-heartedly. “Go to the party tonight. Try to have some fun. You deserve it. The movie is going to be a hit, and you’ve earned every single moment of praise.”
Caitlin didn’t feel like she had anything to celebrate, but she’d go. It would cause her more grief than it was worth if the lead actress didn’t show.
When Caitlin arrived that night, she found McKenzie Ryan and thanked her for the opportunity.
She hoped, quietly, that the director was proud of what they’d created.
Then she floated throughout the party, circulating among the cast and crew, smiling and nodding absently while her eyes searched for Gemma.
Caitlin was beginning to grow anxious until her eyes finally landed on the most gorgeous woman she had ever seen.
Gemma glided into the room, and everything else blurred.
She commanded attention in a white, cropped blazer that framed her broad, athletic shoulders.
Caitlin wished, absurdly yet achingly, to be the high-waisted pants that hugged her hips.
Gemma’s hair was slicked back into a long, dark ponytail that flowed straight down her back, her strong jaw and honey-brown eyes on full display. She was breathtaking.
The party went on around them, laughter mixing with the sound of clinking glasses. But for Caitlin, there was only Gemma.
“Hey you,” Gemma said as they drew closer, inevitable as magnets.
“Gemma. You look…” Well? Don’t hold back now. “Stunning. You’re beautiful.”
“Why, thank you. You don’t look half bad yourself.” Gemma blushed, her eyes flickering across Caitlin with an unspoken lust. She pointed toward a set of French doors. “Want to step out outside with me?”
Caitlin nodded, a tense doom knitting through her chest.
Out on the terrace, they found an empty corner tucked away from the eyes and ears of the crowd. They simultaneously leaned against the railing, facing one another, and began to speak.
Caitlin laughed. “You go first.”
Gemma smiled faintly. “You know, I’ve dreamed of running into you again for years—all the different ways it could go, all the things I would say. But nothing could have prepared me for this.”
She gazed up at the dark sky for a moment before meeting Caitlin’s eyes again. “I want to apologize, though, for how I treated you in the beginning.”
“You have nothing to be sorry for,” Caitlin said earnestly. She had deserved it.
“Well, I’m grateful that this movie gave us the chance to finally have the conversation we needed.” Gemma paused, her lip starting to quiver. “I read your letter… you came to my graduation?”
“I needed to see you, to know you were okay. I thought that if I showed up and told you how I felt, if I finally apologized, maybe you’d give me a second chance.”
Gemma sighed. “So then why didn’t you come talk to me?”
“I did, but you were kissing another woman,” Caitlin spoke softly, stinging from the memory. “It hurt to watch, but you looked happy. That’s all I’ve ever wanted. I didn’t want to ruin it, so I left.”
Caitlin slid her hand over Gemma’s, warm against the cold metal guardrail. “Would you have even wanted to see me?”
“Honestly… I don’t know. I was still so angry and heartbroken. Why didn’t you mail your letter after, though?”
“Fear,” Caitlin admitted plainly. “I was afraid you’d reject me, and then we’d truly be over for good. Holding onto that letter felt like holding onto a sliver of hope.”
Gemma traced her thumb across Caitlin’s skin, steady and intentional. “I’m glad you gave it to me now. And I accept your apology. For everything. I think… I think that letter was the closure I’ve been needing.”
Caitlin felt her breath catch, her body prickling with an icy, electric thrill. She wanted to beg for another chance, to plead for Gemma’s trust, to vow she would never walk away again. Instead, she kept her pleas buried deep within her chest. Gemma had made her desire clear, and it wasn’t Caitlin.
Gemma examined her now-empty glass with nothing left to say.
“I’m going back in for another drink.” Gemma broke the silence, offering a gentle smile that held for an extra moment before she moved toward the door.
“Wait!” Caitlin called, her desperation sharp. “Would you take a walk with me? We could sneak out… I’ll buy you another drink somewhere else.”
Gemma seemed to contemplate the idea before she said, “Sure.”
They each made one final sweep of the party before their eyes met in silent conspiracy. They slipped toward the elevators, stealthily sliding in right before the silver doors closed.
Caitlin felt a haze of déjà vu as the two of them stood trapped behind the steel doors, just as they had after the chemistry read. Gemma stood close, her arm brushing Caitlin’s. Neither pulled away.