Method

“He may be beautiful, but I gotta say, after dealing with that man for the last three months, I’m happy to be batting for the other team.” We share a laugh. Looking around, I find my eyes trailing back to his as he studies me, his soul-filled depths trying to convey so much, but I can’t read into it. Today isn’t about us. It’s about the career of a passionate actor.

The mob goes silent as the president of the Hollywood Chamber of Commerce steps up to the podium.

“Hello, Hollywood.” The crowd cheers in greeting. “Today, we gather in celebration of the career of one of our most diverse and talented leading men. With such films under his belt as Misfits, Erosion, Cairo, and Drive, he has landed a reputation as one of the most respected and well-known actors of his generation. The Hollywood Chamber of Commerce is proud to honor with the twenty-six hundredth star on the Hollywood Walk of Fame, Lucas Walker!”

Tears surface, but these are different. They’re tears of pride. Lucas stands humbly beside the podium, his gaze mostly averted as praise is bestowed on him from all sides. It’s then I realize what a gift it’s been to know him so intimately, to have witnessed his talent firsthand. To have loved him through the bad days and been present on the good.

Audrey’s words hit me harder than ever as I look up to meet my husband’s waiting gaze.

It’s a choice. Every. Single. Day. You make a choice.

I might not have been present for all of his career, but we share years of the same memories. In a blink, I’m back in front of those pyramids, crashing into his arms outside his SUV, slapping his chest in the limo, yelling at him for leaving the toilet paper roll empty, rolling underneath him in bed as he pins me down and tickles me with his hair. We’re playing in the ocean on our own strip of beach and making love by the fire after. I’m laughing as I catch him spitting out the wine at dinner that took me all day to cook, and in the next thought, he’s yelling at me for buying an expensive washing machine right before I cover him in detergent. It’s still my favorite fight, along with the hour-long make-up shower after.

Today I choose him, I choose those memories—over hurt, over mistakes, over miscommunications, over all of it. I don’t want it anywhere near this moment. Because in a way I share it with him. Those moments have happened, but this one is just as significant, even if it’s one of our last. I choose him, so I don’t miss this day.

After the thought settles into me, I’m able to enjoy the ceremony. A few of his old co-stars come up and speak about what it’s like to work with him, about what an amazing man he is. I laugh through stories I’ve heard and some that I haven’t. Lucas stands idly by, humility leaking from him in the aversion of his eyes as he stares down at the carpet listening to all the kind words spoken. His lips upturning here and there and a laugh escaping him when it’s appropriate.

And then it’s his turn. He’s introduced one last time and takes the podium. “Thank you. Thank you so much.” He pauses and glances out into the street a million miles away. “It seems like just yesterday I was walking down this boulevard with a friend dreaming up big things.” His eyes go murky, but he recovers and smiles at the crowd. “It’s been a crazy road to get here, one I’m certain is less traveled but sprang from circumstance as most of life’s gifts do.” He looks directly at me when he says it, and then he’s speaking again. “When I was eight years old, I met a woman by the name of Madelyn Rosera Darling.”

Lucas speaks of Maddie fondly for a few minutes telling anecdotes that have us laughing and emotions swelling. He’s an amazing storyteller, that’s his gift, and it’s why we’re here. Pride pours out of me as I listen to him speak, his speech brief. “So, thank you for this honor, and I accept this along with thanks to the women in my life. Thanks to Maddie; my mother, my teacher, my best friend. Thanks to my beautiful wife, my Dame, Mila.” He smiles over at me. “Thanks to the team of incredible women, who keep me,” he says, nodding toward each of them, “Leann, Shannon, and Nova.” I grip Nova’s hand and see she’s tearing up. “Basically, all the ladies in my life that try every day to keep from committing their first homicide.” The crowd laughs, and Lucas gives a devilish grin I recognize now as Blake’s.

“I’m honored, thank you.” He steps back and is led down to the red carpet with the co-stars who spoke before his star is unveiled. When he looks down, I see it then, the crack in his armor, he’s thinking about Blake, and he didn’t mention him at all in his speech. Melancholy washes over his features, and in a flash, it’s gone. His smile is back, and he’s posing for pictures.

Once it’s my turn, he tugs at my hand pulling me to him, and we embrace for long seconds. I inhale his clean cologne, revel in his hold. “I’m so proud of you,” I whisper. Pulling away, I melt in his gaze. The world may be watching but the gentle kiss I return when he presses his lips to mine is genuine. He searches my eyes, and I admit the truth. “I couldn’t miss it.”

He crushes me again into his arms and whispers in my ear, holding me tightly to him. “Thank you so much for coming. Mila, I—”

“Not today, none of that today,” I whisper softly, pulling away with what I hope looks like proud tears shimmering in my eyes. “I’m so sorry he’s not here.”

Blake was originally supposed to be one of those who spoke at his unveiling. Our collective hearts aching, I urge him to have his moment. “Go on, give them a few more minutes, then you’re home free.”

“Dame,” he whispers roughly, his eyes shining with unmistakable reverence, “you represent your title well.”

“And you’re still a good man, Lucas. An infuriatingly good man.”

I push up on my toes and kiss his jaw like I did the night we met. “I’ll see you, Hollywood.” I walk away before my legs have a chance to give out.

Lucas

“Turner and McNeil, please hold. Turner and McNeil, please hold.”

As the minutes tick by, I can’t help but look around the posh office and grin. She’s made a name for herself.

“Mr. Walker,” the receptionist addresses me, her cheeks heating when I approach her desk, “she’ll s-see you now. Last office on the right.”

“Thank you.” I stride toward her office and knock before opening the door.

She stands, a bright smile lighting her face.

“As I live and breathe, Lucas Walker. Have you finally fucking come back to take me to prom?”

A laugh escapes me as Jessie comes toward me and we pause briefly before we hug. “Damn,” she muffles into my shirt, “you couldn’t have worked out like this when we were together?”

Chuckling, I pull back and take her in.

“How are you, Jessie Soto?”

“I,” she drawls out, “am kicking ass.”