Page 192 of Into the Blue

He had found her onstage moments later, and they never looked back.

For six months after, they lived in AJ’s apartment so she could do her job. Then they flew to Barcelona over the summer for an indie film Noah had agreed to shoot mostly for the three-month schedule and the chance to get out of the country.

News of their relationship had broken that spring—dog-walking photo, classic—and AJ had never experienced anything like it.

She had gone from being a civilian to being tabloid fodder overnight, and it had thrown her back to her worst days of “No” (which naturally revived like a militant zombie out of GIF hell). It was worth it to be with Noah, but AJ couldn’t help but feel she had lost some of her credibility and all of her privacy in the process.

Spain had been an ideal escape. Noah was happy to be at work, and AJ was happy to hang out all day watching soccer and eating croquettes. She gave little thought to New York, until it came time to fly home, and she found herself having the second-worst anxiety attack of her life.

It was the tabloids and the creepiness of being a public person. It was having to watch Noah while away his good years so he could stay physically close to her. And it was the stress. The job took so much, and AJ no longer needed work to be her everything.

She was beside herself. She had hustled her entire life for this gig, only to find that she no longer wanted it.

Her off-ramp came later that week in the form of an email from Otto, beseeching them to support theInto the Bluesequel Kickstarter in the wake of Em Tyner’s public denouncement. Apparently, Arho’s real-life romance had been the juice the base needed to finally mobilize a full-scale reboot campaign, but they didn’t have a face for it.

When AJ showed the email to Noah, he took one look and said, “What if we do it?”

AJ had agonized over quittingSNL,but in the end, it was time. She had achieved the dream, but dreams changed. Humor had given her a voice as a kid, but it had also been her defense mechanism, one that had served its purpose. Now there was a range of projects she wanted to explore—with Noah, while she could. Plus, when you ran your own production company, no one could shoot down your pitches.

Mooncalf Pictures now had several films and one show in development, all quietly positioning Noah behind the camera as much as in front of it.

In the past year, he’d shot two more big-budget projects, the first ofwhich would release that fall. AJ felt sure it would garner Noah his third Oscar nod.

But there would only be a few more years of that. Noah’s intention was to go public with his diagnosis at forty to do some advocacy, then settle into stage work until he started to fail. He felt no self-pity on this score. “It’s five years longer than most female actors get,” he told AJ grimly.

Beyond this, they had no set plan.

There were good days and bad days carrying the diagnosis. Sometimes, Noah would still get overwhelmed and want to walk away, and sometimes AJ would still want to ignore what was coming. But in the end, they always showed up for each other. AJ knew that nothing she could say to Noah would ever be wrong, and Noah knew that AJ had his back, no matter what.

Neither of them took a second they had together for granted.

And they never would.

“Okay, we’re good,” said their lighting tech.

Their assistant director calledPlaces,and all around them, people scrambled to get into position. Still holding hands, AJ and Noah walked to their marks.

Noah gave AJ the once-over. “Are we doing this?”

AJ nodded. “Yes.”

She could feel the pulse in his thumb, strong and sure and vital. They were older now, but so were their characters, and that was how it should be. No one should stand still too long in time.

AJ adjusted her robes, and Noah his armor. She watched his eyes light as he stepped into Rho for one last scene. Then she herself slipped into Ana like a dance combination, a well-worn shoe.

For a moment, there was nothing but the sound of their breath. Then, Noah calledAction,and all at once, the two of them were racing, hands clasped, into the wide-open future.