Jealousy 1: Chapter 1 : Lights, Camera…
Jealousy There are countless sounds on a film set.
The hum of expensive lights.
Crew members shouting over one another.
Makeup artists scrambling in with brushes the moment a director calls for a reset.
Cameras gliding silently across polished tracks.
Someone somewhere always asking for coffee.
I’ve spent so many years around movie sets that those sounds have become ordinary-almost comforting.
Today, however…
Every single noise faded into the background.
The only word I heard was- “Action!” The director’s voice echoed across the soundstage like a gunshot.
And everything inside me immediately tensed.
I stood beside the production monitor, clipboard pressed tightly against my chest.
To everyone else, I probably looked exactly as I always did.
Professional.
Collected.
Focused.
After all, I wasn’t just Timothy Zion’s wife.
I was also his manager.
That title came with responsibilities.
Schedules.
Contracts.
Media interviews.
Damage control.
Keeping one of the country’s biggest actors from being buried alive beneath impossible expectations.
It also meant pretending that watching another woman kiss my husband for work didn’t bother me.
Usually…
It didn’t.
Not really.
I’d been with Timothy long before he became one of the most sought-after actors in the industry.
I’d seen him film romantic comedies, tragic romances, historical dramas, and psychological thrillers.
He had kissed actresses younger than him, older than him, newcomers, award winners, international stars…
Never once had I questioned him.
Because acting was acting.
The camera lied.
The emotions belonged to fictional people.
Not to us.
But today…
Today was different.
Because today’s co-star wasn’t simply doing her job.
Elara Vance had made sure everyone knew exactly what she wanted.
My husband.
The cameras rolled.
Timothy stepped into position, rain machines already soaking his dark hair and fitted black suit.
Artificial rain streamed down his face in perfect cinematic fashion.
Across from him stood Elara.
Beautiful.
Talented.
Ambitious.
And utterly shameless.
During rehearsals she’d already ignored personal space more than once.
She laughed too loudly at his jokes.
Touched his arm every chance she got.
Found excuses to ask for “one more rehearsal.” Timothy had politely shut every attempt down.
Unfortunately…
Polite wasn’t enough for someone who clearly enjoyed crossing boundaries.
The scene called for one final kiss.
A heartbreaking farewell.
Two lovers forced apart by fate.
Simple.
Elegant.
Professional.
Except…
The moment Timothy reached his mark…
Elara practically launched herself at him.
Her arms wrapped around his neck with far more force than rehearsed.
Her entire body pressed tightly against his.
Even from where I stood, I could tell she’d ignored every piece of blocking they’d practiced earlier.
Timothy reacted instantly.
Professional instinct.
He caught her before she’d completely thrown herself off balance, his hands settling carefully against the middle of her back.
Then…
They kissed.
I reminded myself to breathe.
It’s work.
It’s only work.
He’s acting.
You’ve watched this before.
But Elara wasn’t kissing the character.
She was kissing Timothy.
There was a difference.
A huge one.
She lingered far longer than necessary.
Her fingers disappeared into his wet hair.
Instead of matching the choreography, she kept pulling him closer.
Closer.
Closer.
As if the entire world had disappeared except for the two of them.
I knew Timothy.
Every tiny movement.
Every subtle expression.
To anyone watching through the camera lens, he looked completely consumed by the emotional scene.
To me…
He looked trapped.
His shoulders had become rigid.
His jaw was tighter than normal.
His fingers flexed slightly against her back-not affectionately, but with the unmistakable restraint of someone resisting the urge to shove another person away.
Then Elara did something that made my stomach twist.
Without ending the kiss…
She opened her eyes.
Not toward Timothy.
Toward me.
Our gazes met.
Her lips curled ever so slightly against my husband’s.
It wasn’t even a smile.
It was worse.
It was victory.
She wanted me to watch.
Wanted me to feel powerless.
Then, as though determined to push things even further, she let out a soft breathy sound into the kiss.
The microphones would capture it.
The cameras would love it.
And somehow…
I knew that sound wasn’t for the audience.
It was meant for me.
A challenge.
A taunt.
A declaration that she could touch what belonged to me whenever the cameras rolled.
My grip on the clipboard tightened until my fingers hurt.
Stay calm.
You’re working.
Everyone’s watching.
Don’t give her what she wants.
Out of the corner of my eye I noticed several crew members smiling at the performance.
The director leaned closer to the monitor.
“Beautiful…
keep going!” Another producer nodded enthusiastically.
“This is incredible chemistry.” Chemistry.
If only they knew.
Timothy wasn’t enjoying any of this.
I could practically hear his internal complaints without him saying a word.
Knowing him…
He was probably apologizing to me in his head already.
That ridiculous man.
Even when someone else crossed the line, he’d somehow convince himself it was his fault.
The director clapped excitedly.
“More!
Give me more emotion!” Timothy obeyed.
Of course he did.
He always would.
His professionalism was one of the reasons I fell in love with him.
No matter how uncomfortable a scene became…
No matter how exhausted he was…
He never let the audience down.
That dedication had built his career.
It had also built our life together.
Which was exactly why Elara had chosen this moment.
She knew he couldn’t stop.
Couldn’t break character.
Couldn’t shove her away without ruining the take.
She’d cornered him perfectly.
I hated how clever that made her.
The kiss continued for what felt like forever.
Seconds stretched into minutes.
My heart wasn’t jealous.
It was angry.
Not at Timothy.
Never at him.
At her.
Because there is a world of difference between acting opposite someone…
…and taking advantage of the fact that they’re too professional to push you away.
Finally…
The words I’d been silently begging for echoed across the stage.
“And…
cut!” The tension shattered.
Crew members relaxed.
Someone immediately shouted for towels.
The makeup team rushed forward.
Timothy didn’t wait.
The instant filming stopped, he dropped his hands from Elara as though she’d suddenly become electrified.
He took one full step backward.
Then another.
Putting unmistakable distance between them.
Exactly what I expected.
Exactly who he was.
Unfortunately…
Elara still hadn’t gotten the message.
“Timothy, darling…” Her voice dripped with fake sweetness.
“You’re so tense.” She moved closer again.
“We really should rehearse off-set.
Really explore the chemistry.” Several nearby crew members glanced over.
Then she smiled brightly.
“I even booked a hotel room.” Silence.
Even people pretending not to listen were absolutely listening now.
Timothy looked at her.
His expression remained calm.
Professional.
Cold.
“Good job.” That was all he said.
Two words.
No smile.
No encouragement.
No flirtation.
Simply the bare minimum courtesy one actor gives another after finishing a difficult scene.
Anyone who actually knew Timothy would’ve recognized that tone immediately.
Conversation over.
Elara either didn’t notice…
…or refused to.
She stepped close enough to brush a droplet of fake rain from his cheek with her thumb.
“You kiss even better than I dreamed…” Her voice lowered into an almost playful purr.
“Tim~” The nickname hung in the air.
Timothy didn’t move.
Didn’t smile.
Didn’t react.
He simply looked at her.
The temperature around us seemed to drop several degrees.
“It’s Timothy.” His correction was calm.
Precise.
Final.
“And it was acting.” Nothing more.
Nothing less.
The words landed like a slammed door.
For the first time since arriving on set…
Elara’s confident smile cracked.
Good.
She deserved that much.
Without waiting for another response, Timothy turned away from her completely.
Crew members instinctively stepped aside as he walked through the busy soundstage.
His eyes searched the room.
Only searching for one person.
Me.
The moment our gazes met…
I saw it.
Relief.
Guilt.
Affection.
And the unmistakable expression that said…
Please don’t be mad.
Despite myself…
The corner of my mouth almost twitched upward.
Almost.
I wasn’t going to make this easy for him.
Not because he’d done anything wrong.
He hadn’t.
But because I knew exactly what was coming next.
My husband-one of the most celebrated actors in the country, capable of intimidating villains, delivering award-winning speeches, and facing thousands of screaming fans without fear- Was about to spend the rest of the day trying to convince his own wife that she was still his favorite person in the world.
Honestly…
Watching Timothy panic over my opinion was far more entertaining than any movie scene he’d ever filmed.