Page 43 of Love Unscripted
She exhaled. “Okay. That’s not so bad.”
They reached her car. Aaron stepped ahead and opened the door for her. As she paused beside it, he spoke—casual, but thoughtful, like he was finishing a conversation rather than starting a new one.
“You asked me the other day if I regretted casting you,” he said. “I realized I never asked the same in return.”
She looked at him.
“Do you feel good about saying yes to this?” he added. “I know it’s a different kind of project.”
“Yes,” she said easily. “I don’t regret it.” Her gaze softened. “This set, the crew, the cast… you. It’s all a breath of fresh air compared toShadow Peak.”
Aaron’s brow lifted slightly. “That different?”
“Very.” She leaned lightly against the car door. “There was a lot of… tension. Politics. People competing with each other more than working together. Everyone was pleasant in interviews, butbehind the scenes…” She shook her head. “It wasn’t a great environment.”
He nodded, taking that in without interrupting.
“Most of it never made it to the press,” she added. “But it wore on you.”
“Sounds exhausting,” he said.
“It was.”
A small pause settled between them—not uncomfortable, just reflective. Aaron glanced down briefly, then back up, choosing his words with care.
“Given all that,” he said, “it makes sense you stepped away when you did.”
She studied him for a moment, as if weighing how much he was really asking. “It wasn’t just one thing,” she said. “But my faith was the turning point. Once that shifted, everything else became… clearer.”
He nodded, accepting that without pushing it further. “That makes sense,” he said simply.
Madison shifted beside him, squeezing his hand. Aaron glanced down at her, then back to Camille, the moment naturally closing.
“Alright,” he said, stepping back from the door. “We’ll pick it up tomorrow.”
Camille smiled, sliding into the driver’s seat. “See you tomorrow.”
She buckled her seatbelt, gave Madison a warm smile, and lifted her hand in a small wave. Madison waved back enthusiastically.
Aaron stepped away from the car as Camille pulled off, his gaze following for a moment longer than necessary.
~*~*~*~
On the half an hour drive from Aaron’s home to hers, Camille reflected on her latest time spent with him. Church and lunch at his home had added to the layers of his personality. He was a believer and a devoted father. At church, he was someone hungry for the Word, jotting notes, leaning forward as though afraid to miss a single sentence. It moved her more than she cared to admit.
She wondered if he’d noticed how often she’d glanced at him. He hadn’t looked back—not once. She had been no distraction at all.
That was new.
Men usually noticed her. Desired her. She had grown accustomed to it, even numb to it. But Aaron never treated her like merchandise. He treated her like a person. Like an equal. Like a co-heir in Christ.
There was attraction—she felt it—but it was contained, governed by a self-control she admired deeply.
And it made her feel lacking.
She knew, intellectually, that she was forgiven. Redeemed. But sometimes the weight of her past pressed in regardless. The choices. The damage. The endless chasing of affirmation under the guise of love.
Her mind drifted to Simon. She could still remember the day they met. She had been young—barely twenty—but already carried the kind of maturity that came from being treated like an adult for most of her life. She had been discovered by a talent scout at four years old and cast in what became a long-running sitcom. Films came along over the years, but television had always been her foundation.
