The Reunion by Kayla Olson(78)

When he hands my phone back over, Gemma’s face fills the screen, freshly washed, no makeup. I watch her stories three times in a row, let her words burn into me. And they do burn, everything from he’s loved her forever to no one will ever be like Liv for Ransom.

I have no words. None.

After a long, silent minute, I tuck my phone away. One by one, I tuck my AirPods neatly in their case, feeling Ford’s eyes on me the whole time.

“Sorry, Livvie, I thought you knew already.” I hear what he hasn’t said: The entire internet knows already. “For the record, if it helps, I’ve been rooting for you and Ransom to get together ever since that one flight to Shanghai on our world tour.”

My heart stops. “Wait, what? What makes you say that, about Shanghai specifically?” How much did Ransom tell him?

“Please!” Ford laughs. “I agreed to the window seat on that flight, remember? I couldn’t get out for three hours because you fell asleep on his shoulder!”

I had completely forgotten Ford was on my other side.

“I told Ransom to go for it with you after that—it was the perfect chance, I’m sure you know by now how long he’d had a crush on you before that. But obviously, we never knew if you felt the same way.”

The world goes silent.

Surely I’ve misheard.

“But… he got together with the tour director’s daughter on that trip.”

“Yeah, because you told him he should,” he says, but soon the light in his eyes dims. “Wait—you thought he actually liked her?”

“Are you trying to tell me he didn’t? We had a whole conversation about how he was nervous to ask her out.”

“That’s because he wanted to ask you out. He was trying to get a read on if you felt the same way he did—if the idea of him dating another girl got a rise out of you, he’d know you had feelings, too.” He bites his lip. “Admittedly not the best strategy, in hindsight. Sorry to say I’m the one who thought of it.”

I feel dizzy. “I can’t believe he couldn’t tell I liked him like that,” I say, but even as I say it, I remember how hard I tried to not let it show, fearful of ruining our friendship.

Yeah, of course, I told Ransom all those years ago. You should go for her if you like her. It was one of my finest acting moments to date.

“That’s exactly what I always said. But he always went back to your interviews—you shut those questions down every time, like, ‘We’re just friends,’ full stop, end of discussion.”

My heart sinks to my stomach.

All this time, I thought Ransom was the one giving mixed signals.

Never, not once, did I consider that maybe I had done the same.

“Liv?” Gretchen says tentatively, like she’s hesitant to interrupt. “Hate to butt in—but we’ve got to get moving if we’re going to stay on schedule.”

“Sorry again about Juliette,” I say quietly so only Ford will hear.

“Sorry about my bad advice in Shanghai,” he replies, “and about everything else going on. At least we get to do a scene together today—I’ve been looking forward to it.”

“Same,” I say, forcing a smile. “And hey, forget about the bad advice. He didn’t have to take it.”



* * *



My scene with Ford is a fast one: we’re both rock-solid on every line, every beat. We’re so committed, so on today, you’d never guess we were both falling apart behind our makeup. The only part I don’t like about doing this scene is how quickly we get a good take, and—just like that—it’s over.

I haven’t seen Ransom yet. Usually he’ll slip in and grab a snack from the craft services table first thing, sip on his coffee while looking on from a dark corner, but not today. My stomach’s been a mess of nerves all morning, especially after everything Ford told me. Two days ago, I would have been absolutely over the moon to hear Ransom’s feelings for me all those years ago were mutual.

Today, I have no idea what to do with this information.

On break in my trailer, I can’t stop thinking about Gemma’s stories. About the irony in the step back Ransom and I took all those years ago: how, in theory, pulling apart from each other was supposed to help us get closer to our happily ever afters—but despite fourteen years of silence, my history with Ransom still came between him and Gemma in the end.

What Ford told me casts everything in a new light. If what he and Gemma both said is true—that Ransom has loved me all along, forever, just like I’ve loved him—maybe Ransom only suggested a step back because he thought it’s what I wanted. Maybe he didn’t want to stand in the way of my supposed happiness with some guy who wasn’t him and did the selfless thing by giving me up.

And then I cut him out of my life. I told him not to call me. Not to reach out. He respected that for fourteen years. He tested the waters by texting me the day of the Fanline dinner, and has been nothing but incredible ever since. And what did I do? I went and accused him of turning us into a publicity stunt. Accused him of sending mixed signals.

My head hurts.

There’s a soft knock on my trailer door. My stomach flips—but it’s only Bryan on the other side.

“Hi, Liv,” he says, unusual vulnerability in his expression. “Mind if we talk for a moment?”