twist ending: a film that is marketed as having a surprise ending that shouldn’t be revealed to those who haven’t seen the picture

Only four days remained before the Academy Awards. The obnoxious tick-tick-ticking began in Tallulah’s head when their homebound flight’s pilot turned off all the NO CELLPHONE USE signs as the plane wheeled to its designated gate.

A flood of notifications of texts, missed calls, voicemails, and emails sent their cells into a fit of buzzy hums once airplane mode was switched off. An informational overload she tried to choke down.

A voicemail assured her that House of Spire’s dedicated seamstresses had mended the snags that nearly unraveled her sanity. A text message informed her that Lanya had scheduled a pre-Oscars spa day to massage and tame her nerves. The beauty team, consisting of a hairstylist, a nail technician, and a makeup artist, sent an email confirmation of the appointment. Her personal shopper, Wilks, texted her photos of cobalt blue heels, labeling each with the names of luxury shoe designers she had no clue even existed.

Nick held her hand as they journeyed to baggage claim. Well, it was more like he walked ahead of her, guiding her through the crowds while her attention remained stuck on a group text message. When he stopped to give an elderly couple the right-of-way, she accidentally bumped into his back. The collision knocked the device out of her possession. She squatted to retrieve it and looked up at him.

“Sorry.” She gave him an apologetic look.

He offered his hand to help her up, and she accepted the gesture, depositing her phone in her purse. They strolled side by side with his arm around her waist and her hand in his back pocket. She felt his phone vibrate and vibrate, but he did not attempt to acknowledge it.

Her brows knitted together. “Aren’t you going to answer that?”

“I’ll answer it on my time. Not theirs,” Nick said. “You should do the same, Ray. I promise the world won’t end.”

Tallulah sighed, “No, the world won’t end, but the world will definitely be watching us on the red carpet four days from now.”

Waiting for me to mess up and for you to act up.

The last time Nick made a public appearance was on the Extra Late Live Show, where he defended her honor on national television and backstage. The host, Jarrett Spencer, made a public and private apology. Not wanting to escalate the matter, she forgave him, but Nick hadn’t and wouldn’t, which proved to be an issue when it was announced Jarrett would be a red-carpet interviewer.

Before she bumped into Nick earlier, the Galentine Gang sans Valerie had texted her on the matter:

Sonya: Sis, keep Nicky away from that jackass.

Dominga: Facts!

Alexandra: The screenwriters I intern for have a running bet Jarrett will freak out if Nick just so much as looks at him.

If Tallulah had a taste for gambling, she would’ve bet all her money on that, too.

“Which means you’ll have to behave and keep your hands to yourself,” Tallulah said before letting out a tiny gasp as Nick pinched her butt slyly.

“Behave? Sure. Keep my hands to myself?” He chuckled. “Out of the question, Ray. You need to make peace with that.”

“I don’t mean me, Nick. I meant a certain late talk show host,” she whispered, noticing his smile wane.

He grunted a hm, and she blinked puppy-dog eyes at him.

“Don’t give me that look, Desiree,” he said.

“Why, Nicholas? Is it working?” she probed, pouting to enhance her act.

“I’ll give you a lesson on what’s working and what’s not when we get home,” he said, slightly gruff as they reached the carousels of moving baggage.

She bit her bottom lip to keep her smile at bay as she gave his left buttock a well-hidden squeeze before relinquishing his pocket. “I’d love to know where that falls.”

A playful wickedness glinted in his eyes as he looked at her, going to retrieve their luggage. A chauffeur waited for them in the pick-up zone while their driver handled the luggage as they sat in the town car’s backseat.

Next stop: Finn’s.

Finn lived in a two-bedroom upscale condo in Venice Beach with all-white walls, all-polished wood floors, and an ocean-breezy balcony to die for. While they were away on a romantic getaway, their kid’s godfather ensured all his wants and needs were met.

From the texted photos and daily phone updates, Milo Lachlan Bryant was well-fed from the local Venice eats, well-tanned from his afternoons on the beach, and had become a little cinephile binging on Nick’s, Tallulah’s, and Finn’s filmographies all thanks to his godfather’s impressive collection.

Finn answered moments after Nick rapped his fist on the condo’s door.

“Right on time,” he said, gesturing for them to enter. “How was Mexico?”

Nick smirked, “We weren’t there for sightseeing, if that’s what you’re asking.”

“It was sunny and lovely,” Tallulah said with a roll of her eyes, resisting the urge to punch him in the ribs.

Finn matched Nick’s smirk, glancing between the couple. “Should we be...expecting a new addition to the Bryant cast in—say—nine months?”

Tallulah blinked in surprise before snorting out a laugh. “Absolutely not.”

“Keep an eye out.” Nick’s answer overlapped hers, sucking all the humor out of her.

It took everything not to gawk at him. Luckily, Milo came charging out of the guest bedroom, tugging his two-wheel dinosaur carry-on. She rewired all her focus onto him as he gave her and Nick big I-missed-you hugs.

After giving Finn their thanks and saying their goodbyes, the trip down to the waiting car featured Milo excitedly giving them his recap of the last few days, unknowingly ratting out his godfather.

Bedtime at midnight. Cereal sprinkled over ice cream for breakfast. After-dinner walks to a cupcake shop to flirt with the pretty baker.

The clogged traffic made the drive home agonizingly long, but Milo had more stories to share in the backseat between his parents until he was all storied out. Once home, the family of three unpacked. Afterward, Tallulah and Milo occupied the pool while Nick cooked dinner with the groceries Aishwarya and Lanya had delivered the day before.

While Milo swam and splashed, Tallulah relaxed on a drifting pool lounger floatie.

Or at least, she tried to relax.

Keep an eye out.

That’s what Nick told Finn.

Four simple words that carried too much weight to be a joke—to be ignored.

Never once in the months since they had rekindled their relationship had she considered having another kid or the idea that he might want to.

Keep an eye out.

“Dinner’ll be ready in twenty minutes,” Nick announced, prompting her to loll her head in his direction.

Through her violet-tinted shades, she observed a wet Milo climb out of the pool and grab his towel, draping it over his head. Nick gave him a fatherly grin, playfully rustling the boy’s towel over his hair.

After Milo went inside to shower quickly, Nick rounded the pool, following along with her drifting pool lounger. “You’ve been quiet as a mouse since we got back from Finn’s and, dare I say, avoiding me.”

A mild breeze pushed her toward the tiled pool’s wall.

She propped her shades atop her head to lock eyes with him. “When Finn joked about us having a baby, what you said to him was a joke, right?”

Nick squatted to address her, his shadow casting over her. “Do you want me to say it was a joke?”

She raked her teeth across her bottom lip, a nervousness tightening her throat. “So, you weren’t kidding then.”

“I didn’t know it was a bad thing to want to build a family with the woman I want to spend the rest of my life with.”

“You don’t need to build something you already have, Nick,” she countered. “Aren’t Milo and me enough?”

He shook his head, threading fingers through his hair. “That’s not fair, Desiree. And you know it.”

“What’s not fair? Being content with what we have?” She frowned.

Nick rose, an unreadable flash in his eyes. “It ain’t got nothing to do with contentment.”

“Then what?” she asked.

“There’s a time and a place for everything, and right here and now ain’t it,” he said, walking away.

————

Dinner was overtly tense. Luckily, Milo didn’t notice as he scarfed down his first home-cooked meal after days of takeout and desserts. Afterward, Nick recruited him to help clean off the dinner table and do dishes, once again leaving Tallulah behind.

“Need an extra hand?” she offered while Milo stood on a step stool and washed the dishes, pots, and pans with a soapy sponge while Nick dried.

“We’ve got this, Mom,” Milo assured, invested in his chore.

Not bothering to look back at her, Nick said, “You heard the boy, Ray.”

“I’ll just leave you to it then,” she replied, retreating to her bedroom like a villain having lost a war.

To ease her nerves, she whipped out some candles and lit them, chose a jazz station from her integrated stereo system, and ran a bubble bath in her clawfoot tub. She turned off the lights, pinned up her hair, and climbed in, sighing as her body slid underneath scented bubbles and hot water.

Now, after a getaway of sun and fun, she had never anticipated feeling like a stranger in her own home.

Behind closed eyelids, she played that poolside conversation:

“Aren’t Milo and me enough?”

“That’s not fair, Desiree. And you know it.”

She shook her head softly, whispering, “I don’t get it. What did I say wrong?”

More importantly:

What did she say that wasn’t fair?

Tallulah heard the bedroom door open and shut. She heard footsteps nearing the bathroom door. Then, the doorknob twisted slowly. She kept her eyes closed, pretending to relax as Nick approached.

“You ready for me?” he questioned.

She nodded once. “Yes.”

He stripped down to nothing, the amber glow of the candles partnering with shadows to highlight his handsome face and fit physique. He settled in on the opposite end and pinned Tallulah with a come-hither look.

She obeyed, crawling in between his legs. He seized her nape and reeled her into a kiss. A tiny moan in her throat as his tongue tasted hers.

It took every ounce of her will to pull back. His lips chased after hers, but she shook her head softly.

“We need to talk about that conversation we had at the pool,” she said. “What did I say that wasn’t fair, Nick?”

He draped his muscular arms along the tub’s rim, his eyes flashing with displeasure. Whether it was due to her denying a kiss or her question, Tallulah wasn’t sure.

Or maybe, it was a little bit of both.

A silence grew between them, thickening as the seconds ticked by.

He cast his eyes elsewhere.

“I want what was taken from me, Desiree,” he said. “I want to watch your belly grow week by week. I want the doctor visits and the ultrasounds. I want you to pick any room in this house so we can turn it into a nursery. I want to hold your hand when you’re in labor. I want to hear those first cries. I want to cut the umbilical cord. I want the sleepless nights and midnight bottle feedings. I want to see those first steps. I want to hear those first words. I want to be there for all of it.”

He pinned her with an unreadable expression.

“You resent me, don’t you?” she asked, tears prickling her eyes. One rolled down her cheek.

“No, I don’t,” he said as he crooked a finger to brush it away. “I couldn’t even if I wanted to. The night I met my son, I was mad at you, but I was madder at myself for not noticing the changes to your body during the divorce proceedings. I was madder at myself for not checking in on you even if you didn’t want anything to do with me. I tried to forget you, Desiree.”

He leaned forward, closing the narrow sliver of distance between them.

“I tried so goddamn hard, but I couldn’t,” he breathed, capturing her lips. Her eyelids fluttered shut, and her wet hands cupped his bearded face. She melted against him, their mouths working in heated tandem. She couldn’t forget him either. Every time she looked at their son Milo, she saw Nick in his eyes.

Bathwater sloshed as she straddled him. He wrapped his arms around her, his soapy hands caressing her bare back. She shivered, loving the way his fingers tenderly gazed trails up and down her backbone.

She broke the kiss to cock her head back, savoring his touch.

“For nine years, I dreamt and reminisced about you. I know the industry hardened us, but it didn’t change the plans we had for us, Desiree. We wanted a big house and a big family,” he said, pecking the column of her throat. “We’ve got the big house now, Ray, which only leaves...”

Nick trailed off, kissing the tops of her breasts.

She threaded her fingers through his hair.

“You still want a big family with me, don’t you, Ray?” he questioned huskily, sliding his hands to cup her ass under the bubbly bathwater. “Hm?”

“Now, look who’s not being fair,” she sighed jokingly.

Nick was playing hardball, and she was losing.

He didn’t look amused as he gave her ass a delicious squeeze. “I asked you a question, baby.”

“Yes, Nick. I still want a big family,” she whispered, giving him little pecks at his lips, “but I love our little family too. Is it selfish of me to want to enjoy just the three of us for a little bit longer? Plus, I don’t know how Milo will feel about sharing you with a baby. You just came into his life. Maybe, he wants you to himself.”

“On multiple occasions, he’s informed me he’d like to be a big brother,” he stated.

Tallulah dropped her jaw, her eyes widening. “And what did you tell him?”

“To be patient,” he answered. “That’s two against one, Desiree.”

She un-straddled him and turned to rest her back against his chest, afraid he’d witness her worries and fears. She grabbed her washcloth, but he easily took it from her, taking it upon himself to bathe her.

“Tell me what’s wrong, Desiree,” he ordered calmly, dragging the washcloth across her knee and up her thigh.

She closed her eyes, trying to relax. “I had a rough pregnancy with Milo, Nick. The divorce proceedings made my blood pressure high as hell. The doctor put me on bed rest, but I still went into labor two months early. I was able to have a natural birth, but he couldn’t breathe. They had to resuscitate him. Then he spent almost two months in NICU.”

Her voice cracked, and she inhaled deeply to erase the tightening pains in her chest.

“I want you as my partner even if it means being in the spotlight, but I don’t want history to repeat itself because the industry, the paparazzi, the blogs, the magazines and your rabid fans would stress me the fuck out,” she sniffled, shaking her head. “I refuse to let them watch me go through another difficult pregnancy.”

“I’m here now, and I’ll protect what’s mine, Desiree. You hear me?” He abandoned the washcloth and clasped her chin, steering it so their gazes could meet.

She nodded slowly, drawn in by his brilliant eyes. “Loud and clear, Nick.”

————

Moaning softly, Tallulah stirred from her sleep as the ringtone assigned to Lanya filled the air. She blinked sleepily at the phone on her nightstand, lifting her head off the pillows.

“Don’t answer it,” Nick grumbled behind her as the big spoon in their sleeping position. They fell asleep with his hand blanketing her tender breast, but now that he was half-awake, a thumb lazily toyed with her nipple. She winced slightly. After all, he enjoyed sucking, licking, biting, and tugging at her nipples any chance he got on their romantic getaway.

“It’s Lanya. She wouldn’t call this late if it wasn’t important,” she said tiredly, brushing off his fingers.

She reached for the phone and answered it. “Hello?”

“Oh, thank god, Tally. I just got off the phone with a friend, and he told me your sex tapes are trending,” Lanya said frantically, breathlessly.

Tallulah sat up immediately, shock gripping her throat. “My what?”

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