Ethan had faced brutal auditions, sneering critics, and the pressure of carrying entire films on his back. None of it compared to being stuck in a Ferris wheel capsule with Sasha Leigh.
She hadn't changed. That was what he told himself as he stalked across the amusement park set, ignoring the hovering production assistants. Same smile. Same easy deflections. Same walls built so high no one could climb them.
But then his mind replayed her slip—just one line, raw enough to rattle him.
"Walking away from you was the only thing in my life I've ever regretted."
He didn't know if she meant it. He didn't know if she even realized she'd said it. But it had cracked something in him, a fissure he'd sealed off years ago.
"Ethan," a producer called, jogging up with a clipboard. "That Ferris wheel scene? Pure gold. The tension between you two is electric. We'll build the season around it."
Ethan stopped dead. "Excuse me?"
"You're the story now. The exes reunited, old flames reigniting under pressure. Viewers will eat it up." The producer grinned, already scribbling notes. "Play into it. Trust me, you'll thank us later."
Ethan forced a tight smile, though every muscle in his jaw screamed otherwise. "Glad you're getting good TV."
Because that was the truth, wasn't it? To them, it wasn't heartbreak. It wasn't unfinished sentences or sleepless nights replaying the way she left.
It was content.
That night, back at the villa, he found himself lingering outside her bedroom door.
He should've walked past. Should've gone inside his own room, shut the door, and pretended she was just another co-star.
But he didn't.
He stood there, fist raised, fighting the urge to knock.
And in the silence, he heard her laugh—light, rehearsed, the sound of her practicing for tomorrow's cameras.
It hit him harder than any rejection ever had.
Ethan let his hand drop, turned away, and walked down the hall without looking back.
Because the truth terrified him more than the cameras ever could:
Part of him still wanted her.