Losing Chelsea because of my own stupidity is well, stupid. I should have fought more for her. I shouldn’t have let her walk out that door.

On my way to work a few days later, I drop off the annulment papers by the courthouse and file them. Soon it’ll be official, my wife she will be no more.

“There he is...Mr. Sincock,” Tim greets me, laughing at his not so funny joke.

The past couple of days everyone and anyone has ragged, congratulated, and offered advice to me.

Honestly, I don’t know what to do.

Do you know how fucking hard it was to file those papers?

I walk through the halls of the Falcon building, heading to my office. When I enter, Declan stands, shrinking my office with his tall build. It’s been a few days since the incident, hopefully he’s calmed.

But, still I’m leery.

“Hey,” he says.

I say hey back and drop my camera bag atop my desk.

“Sorry about your face.”

I rub my jaw. “It’s ok, you didn’t mess up the sexy.” I crack a smile, and he grins back.

“I really am sorry. I saw that article and lost it.”

“I still don’t know how they got those pictures. Someone sold me out.”

Declan narrows his eyes. “You think someone from here?”

“I have a few suspicions.”

“Well, let’s go confront some people.”

“Dude, this is my job. I can’t go yelling at people in here with no evidence.” I make my way over to my chair, sit, and fire up my computer. “Trust me, I'm ready to tear this fucking place apart.”

“Yeah, I feel like I need to do something.”

“How’s Chelsea?” I hold my breath waiting for his answer.

“She’s fine.”

Fine isn’t enough. I need more. “She still hate me?” Of course, she does, I’m sure.

“She doesn’t hate you. It’s a fucked-up situation, and she just needed a few days. You two should talk.”

“Yeah, I keep going to call her, then hang up. I don’t know what to say anymore.” I click to my personal email and am overwhelmed by all the emails in my inbox. “Holy shit.”

Declan walks over beside me. “What?”

“What is all of this?” I click through a few of the messages, and it’s all job offers and people wanting to buy photos from my website.

“Dude, you’re famous,” Declan says, slapping my back.

“Hardly.” I shut off the computer. “I’m not taking any new job offer. I cost Chelsea her career, I’m not going to gain off it.”

Stan steps into my office, and smiles—a wicked grin.

If I were a bettin’ man, my money would be on him after the failed date.

“Hey, Jonah, love the pictures of your wife in the tabloids.”

Wrong thing to say. Declan moves in before I can. “You might want to watch your mouth.”

“Who are you?” Stan pushes back.

“I’m his wife’s brother.” He crosses his arms, anger rolling off him, and Stan takes a step back.

“Stan,” I say, fury building. “How is it that magazine came across those pictures? Not many people have access to my bag. And I do remember asking you to grab my lens cleaner.” I lean back in my chair and his eyes bounce between us.

“No, she probably sold them to further her career,” he finally chokes out. “Besides, how would I know those were on there?”

“Maybe, you were you looking for the picture of Chelsea losing her top at the beach, and you just got lucky?”

Stan doesn’t say anything for a good thirty seconds, before getting defensive. “She’s a whore.”

Declan moves closer to him. “Watch your fucking mouth.”

“Or what? Maybe Jonah should keep better tabs on his equipment.”

“You’re a fucking asshole,” I say, standing.

Glenda walks past my office, and peeks her head in. “Gentlemen, what’s going on in here?”

We all stand down, like high school when the principal walks by. But, this is real life, not some code of students against the teachers.

“I think Stan here stole those pictures of Chelsea and sold them to the tabloid.”

Glenda eyes him. “Is that true?”

“You can’t prove that.” Stan smirks.

“Theft of another person’s property is against company policy.” She turns toward me. “I’m assuming it was stolen while at work.”

“It absolutely was,” I say.

“You can’t prove anything,” Stan says again.

“Stan, my office, now.” Glenda glides out of my office.

“What a dick,” Declan says. “I want to teach that motherfucker a lesson.”

“Yeah,” I sit back down in my chair. “if he stole those pictures and ruined her career, I’m going to make him pay for it.”

“Good, let me know if you need my help.” Declan leans against my desk. “So, you gonna talk to her?”

“She lost this role because of me.” I shake my head. “It was her dream.”

“Well, I think you were too.”

“What are you talking about?” I turn my computer back on so I can glance at the messages again.

“When she was younger she had a thing for you.”

“Yeah, right.”

“No, I remember once seeing a notebook of hers lying around with ‘Mrs. Jonah Marshall’ scrawled all over it.”

“Funny, now she is Mrs. Marshall. God, can you believe we’re married? Well, not for much longer.”

“What do you mean?” He takes a seat in the chair across from my desk.

“I filed the annulment papers today. Playboy is no longer married.” That depresses me.

“Ah, damn.” He leans back. “You want to be married?”

I meet his stare. “Fuck,” he says under his breath. “I had no idea you were this serious.”

“Yeah, well, I'm an asshole. Doesn't matter.”

He studies me. “You know what?”

“No, what?”

“You’ve always been a good guy.” He smiles. “Sure, you have that playboy nickname, but you’re no playboy.”

“Of course I am,” I cut in with a sly smile.

He shakes his head. “No, you’ve always been a bit of a romantic. That quote thing you do.”

I run a hand along the back of my neck. “Yeah, maybe. Still doesn’t help my current situation.”

He stands. “She loves you. And believe me, you’re the only man I’d ever trust with her.”

I stare him in the eyes. “Thanks, man.”

“Now, go win your girl back.”

What have I got to lose? I’d rather try everyday to get her back than be without her. I smile, clicking off my computer. “Ok.”

He turns to leave. “Oh, and, Jonah,” he calls over his shoulder, “you should think about taking some of those job offers.”

“Yeah, maybe I will.”

And all of a sudden a sense of freedom washes over me. No longer do I feel the need to tie myself down to the endless stress of Bunny Hunnies taking the pictures I don’t really care to take.

I want more. I want to capture real life on camera. The life the everyday person normally overlooks.

The details that aren't noticed until someone snaps a picture and shows you...look this is special. This is love. These are the important things.

Not the paycheck handed out on Friday, or the nine am phone calls, or the meetings of the rat race we all deal with day in and day out.

No, I want to remind people what it is we’re living for.

The overlooked pleasures.

The simplicity of it all.

Glenda smiles as she passes my office door. I don’t have the heart to tell her I’m quitting. I’ll save that for another day.

But, my mind’s made up.

Chelsea, Declan, Booker….they’re all right.

All in different ways, making me into the man I am today.

Booker telling me I can do anything I want to do. So many times, he’s reminded me that life isn’t planned out, not everyone has to follow the corporate path.

Declan reminded me I can be my own man, and that I am a good guy.

Chelsea well, she opened my heart. She wasn’t afraid to throw her trust in me. I shouldn’t have been afraid. I should have been able to take her love and hold it close, telling her everything about Vegas.

On my way out the door of the Falcon building after work, I run into Randall. His blond hair catches the light of the fading sun, and he smiles. “You look like a man on a mission,” he says.

“Yeah, I need to talk to Chelsea.”

His smile gets bigger. “I always thought you two made the perfect couple,” he calls out. I keep moving to win back my girl.

* * *

The sun has long set, and there’s a faint smell of rain off in the distance. I don’t let it deter me though.

I’ve seen enough movies over the years to know how this needs to play out, how I need to tell her I love her. She’ll fling her arms around me, and we’ll live happily ever after. Right? It all sounds so easy.

But, this isn’t a movie.

I can’t yell cut if she’s not saying the right things back to me. I can’t redo the take if the outcome isn’t to my liking.

Hell, I can’t even send in the script for rewrites if she doesn’t say she loves me back.

It’s that fear of not knowing. The fear of knowing anything could happen. And it may not be in my favor.

Hell, this could be the one who gets away.

And then I’ll lead a lonely miserable life down by the sea, yelling at teenagers and smoking too many cigarettes.

No, she loves me. I know she does.

I see it in the way she smiles at me, her blue eyes twinkling just for me. Without a shadow of a doubt, this girl is crazy about me.

I just need to remind her of that.

I need to show her that what we have is bigger than any movie. Bigger than one drunken night in Vegas.

It’s bigger than the sun and stars. It’s a love that has built. She thinks she can’t trust me. But, she’s wrong.

Finally, a bundle of nerves, I drive to Declan’s, with a hopeful heart.

Streetlamps cast a serene glow over the asphalt when I pull down the street. It reminds me of my favorite movie.

When I hop out of my Jeep, I slow my steps.

Two lights are on in Declan’s house. But, I don’t knock on the door.

No, instead, at the top of my lungs I scream, “Chellllllseaaaa.”

I keep screaming, and I feel like a massive idiot. But, I don’t stop. Isn’t love worth a grand gesture?

The blinds move, and Chelsea peeks her head through. “Chellllllseaaa.”

Finally, she comes out the front door wearing yoga pants and a baggy ‘Drama Llama’ t-shirt.

She gazes at me with those baby blues that melt my heart. “What are you doing?”

I slide my hands in my jeans pockets. “I was an idiot.”

“Jonah, you really hurt me,” she says in a soft voice.

I step closer. “I know. I should have told you. I was afraid.”

“Afraid of what? Of me?” She points a finger at herself.

“Of everything.” Frustrated, I look up at the sky and back down. I need her to understand. “I was Blanche, Chelsea.”

“What do you mean?”

“Blanche Dubois. A Streetcar Named Desire.” She tilts her head at me, confused. “I liked the fantasy of my life. I kept it from you because I enjoyed being married to you. The reality of not being married to you was something I didn’t want to face.”

“But why didn’t you tell me?” She closes her eyes for a moment. “And oh my God, that picture. My parents have read that article.”

I step closer. “Chelsea, I’m so sorry about the movie deal, about the pictures, well, all of it.”

“It isn’t about losing the movie deal.” The hurt in her eyes is killing me. “Well, I mean, that sucks. But, that’s not why I’m mad.”

“Well, why are you?” I ask, hoping I can convince her that she’s the only one who means anything to me.

“I’m upset because you didn’t trust me enough to tell me.”

I blow out a breath and step closer. “I’m so sorry. I failed you. You trusted me, and I failed you,” I say, quoting Batman.

She throws a movie quote back at me, “I can’t stop thinking about you and I don’t know what to do.” Tears well in her eyes.

And then we keep going...

“What do you want, Chelsea? You want the moon? Just say the word and I’ll throw a lasso around it and pull it down.”

“I feel like an idiot right now for trusting you,” she says.

“You make me want to be a better man.”

She inches closer. “Well nobody’s perfect.”

I crack a smile. “You complete me.” I wrap an arm around her waist when she draws near.

She puts a hand to my chest, giving me the faintest grin. “Well, here’s another nice mess you’ve gotten me into.”

Having her in my arms, having her quote movies back to me. It’s heaven.

“Wait a minute. Wait a minute. You ain’t heard nothin’ yet.” I tug her flush against me, our lips hovering inches apart. “Hello, gorgeous.”

“You talking to me?” she asks.

“Yes.” I grin. “I love you.”

“Say it again.” Her eyes catch the glow of the moon, and I’m love-struck.

“Say what again?”

“Get down on your knees and tell me you love me.”

I smile as I kneel before her. “You have bewitched me, body and soul, and I love...I love… I love you.”

“You had me at hello,” she says.

I stand and cup her face in my palms. “I love you. If you’re a bird, I’m a bird.”

“After all, I’m just a girl, standing in front of a boy, asking him to love her,” she says with a small giggle.

I laugh. “You just ruined it.”

“What?” She throws a hand on her hip.

“You can’t quote that movie back. We were doing so good. I was actually proud of you.”

She laughs. “Oh, come on Notting Hill is a good movie.”

“I take back everything I said,” I say, raising a brow.

She slaps my arm. “Oh my God.”

I spin in a slow circle, holding my hands out. “Are you not entertained?” I shout.

“I don’t know that quote.”

“It’s Gladiator.” I raise my hand, ready to give her a thumb down.

“Don’t you dare give me a thumb down, mister.”

I laugh, giving her a thumb up. “You win.”

“Well, I have a little something to tell you.” The nervous look on her face scares me. “Don’t get mad, ok? I kind of did something today.”

“What’s that?” I ask. “I won't be mad, baby.”

“I went to the courthouse and stopped the annulment.”

I pick her up, spinning her in a circle before setting her down and kissing the fuck out of her.