The hilltop

The hilltop
Myra walked into the garden in the wedding dress, grinning shyly at the crew. 

“You're perfect.” The dress designer said as soon as she saw her, and all the others turned. 

“Good. Let’s get to it. We need the light.” The photographer said, hustling his team towards the edge of the hill they were standing on. 

Then he glanced back to blow her a kiss, “You are a photographer's dream.”

She blushed, and looked away as the stylist stepped forward to adjust her veil, then circled her to make sure everything was perfect.

This was the biggest bridal shoot set she had seen. 

Some women from the large crew were dressed up in bridesmaid dresses, and on this hilltop, the crew had built a set for a make-believe wedding.

She walked close to one of the straight-backed white chairs now, and ran her fingers over it, wondering what being a real bride would feel like.

This was the month she had been set to marry Aiden. 

She had looked forward to it, till that night. The night that changed her whole life.

“Miss Shaw?” 

She made a face. It did not matter how much she said it was OK to call her just Myra, there was always that one person who preferred to address her formally.

“Yes?” She finally responded, turning to the videographer now.

The woman complimented her, and then asked her to watch while she modeled how to walk to the other end of the hill where the crew dressed as a bridal train were standing. 

Myra watched her, nodding. 

She was no model, but after being undercover, she was technically a chameleon. 

She could be anything she wanted and mimic anybody. 

And if she had to model for this company as a favor to Gilbert Dankworth after how he saved her, she would do one hell of a good job at it.

She gave a final nod to show she had gotten it, and then the lights turned on, and the camera crew stood at a ready, as a solemn wedding song came on.

She tried to imagine it was her wedding as she began to walk, looking in whatever direction the photographer or videographer asked her to look.

Smiling when they asked her to, blushing and gazing down shyly when they asked her to, and tilting her chin up to inhale with emotions when they asked her to.

Damn. 

Acting and modeling were nowhere as easy or effortless as she would have thought. 

After one hour of this, the PM asked to take ten, while she took a break and the camera reviewed all the shots and footage they had gotten so far.

“Would you like anything ma’am?” Her assistant hurried up beside her, and Myra turned to smile awkwardly at her. 

“If it will not ruin the dress.”

Her assistant nodded and hurried away. When she returned, she had a platter of hors d'oeuvres and a bottle of water.

Myra nodded at her, and walked near the edge of the hill to look down at all the surrounding quiet houses as she ate.

She stared down, mesmerized at how their roofs shone against the slowly setting sun.

This was the most beautiful sight she had seen in a while. She was so enraptured by it that she did not at first notice the silence behind her. 

And then she felt him.

She was not sure if they were alone or not, if she had been standing alone when he came in or still in that group of fifty, but Cal was here.

She could feel it in the sudden current that zapped through her back, that magnetic current she had not felt in months. 

She began to turn around slowly, scared.

She was scared that she would see him standing there, and at the same time scared that she might not, and it was her brain playing tricks on her.

But she saw him, just standing there, and it was almost like a day had not passed since the last time she saw him.

The time when he was eager to tell everyone she was his.

He was staring at her just as intently as he had always done, eyes squinted in curiosity. 

But there was also a layer of darkness, as thin as a transparent film that had not been in the man in the past.

She had broken this man.

“Cal.” She called out as she walked towards him, because he just stood there, straight, both hands behind his back. 

“It’s done then?” he said, and his deep voice sent a tingle round her body as she dropped the platter on the nearest seat, while still looking up at him. 

Their gazes locked. Even now, she could not tear her eyes away when they locked gaze.

“The ceremony is done?” he said, and although he was still staring at her, she suspected his eyes were talking in the empty chairs. “Where is he?”

She was squinting at him now, confused, although she desperately wanted him to continue speaking, because if he did, he would not leave, and then she would be able to finally tell him that it had not all been fake to her.

That she had loved him.

“Where is who?” She asked, just as she noticed his gaze lower a little, and she realized he was taking in the elaborate wedding dress she had on.

Her eyes widened. 

Did the poor man think this was her wedding? 

His eyes moved back to hers, and she felt a zap of electricity go through her skin again, and from the way his amber eyes burned she knew he was aware and probably felt it too.

It was just like they used to months ago. 

He was frowning at her now. “How could you?”

She gasped, and felt her lower lips tremble. “Please let me explain.”

“There is nothing to explain.” His voice was measured, calm, and cool. 

Very cool. 

He was not yelling or showing any violent emotions, and that was beginning to frustrate her.

“You wouldn’t even listen to me,” she said, her heartbreaking now as she noticed the new emotions in his eyes, and it seemed the man was crumbling in front of her all over again. 

Like the knife her betrayal had dug in his heart, it was still fresh.

She knew exactly what that felt like, and it killed her that she was responsible for making anyone feel that. 

And Cal of all people. 

“I sent you an email. Did you even read it?” she said.

Months ago, when all efforts to reach him proved useless, she sat down and wrote him a long email, telling him everything. 

She had held nothing back, not even Aiden's affair with her father, Greg's betrayal and true identity, and even her contemplating an abortion. But also how she was genuinely attracted to him from the first day, and felt the strange current the first time his fingers brushed hers.

“How does it bloody matter?” He said loudly now, and she gasped at him, cursing.

“What?”

“How does any of it matter? Even...” 

He paused and grimaced, and finally brought his hand forward to point between both of their chests.

“Even this did not stop you from moving on just like that. Your claims in that email mean nothing if you can just get married despite feeling this.”

He turned around and began to walk away.