Roman returned to the studio three weeks after the accident.

The sling was gone, and the wound on his arm had healed into a thin scar. Elliot noticed it every time Roman rolled up his sleeve.

Production completed the remaining scenes in five days.

The studio had relaxed its restrictions, though nobody mentioned the security footage. Dana avoided the subject, and the production assistant who had seen them in the hallway kept her distance.

Elliot noticed the occasional stare from the crew.

He had stopped caring.

Their final call sheet listed scene forty-seven at Pacific Central Station. Noah would find Julian on the platform moments before his train departed.

The script gave them four pages and one final kiss.

Elliot had known the lines for weeks. Reading them on the morning of the shoot still made his chest tighten.

In wardrobe, he put on Noah's gray coat and scarf.

Roman stood at the next mirror dressed in Julian's black coat and dark jeans. Their eyes met in the reflection.

"Ready?" Roman asked.

Elliot nodded.

The station had been closed to passengers for the afternoon. Fog drifted across the platform while artificial sunset light passed through the high windows.

Elena reviewed the scene with them beside the tracks.

"We'll begin with the wide shot and move in for coverage. Stay with the pauses. Nobody rushes the confession."

Elliot walked to the far end of the platform.

Roman took his position beside the train with Julian's bag at his feet.

The clapperboard snapped.

"Action."

Elliot ran onto the platform.

Roman turned at the sound of his footsteps.

"You're leaving," Elliot said.

"I have to."

"No."

Roman's expression tightened.

Elliot crossed the remaining distance. "You don't get to make that decision for both of us."

"I waited for you."

"And I'm here now."

Roman looked at him with the same exhaustion Julian had carried through the final episode.

Elliot gripped the front of his coat.

"I don't want an apology," he said. "I want you."

Roman dropped the bag.

"I always wanted you."

The line struck too close to everything Roman had confessed in his apartment.

Elliot pulled him into the scripted kiss.

Roman's hand settled against the back of his neck. The train, the cameras and the waiting crew faded from Elliot's attention until Elena called cut.

Roman released him.

"That's our wide," Elena said. "Reset for Elliot's close-up."

They performed the confession four more times.

During every take, Elliot looked into Roman's eyes and said, "I want you."

The words became harder to separate from the truth.

For Roman's close-up, Elliot stood beside the camera and delivered the lines again. Roman's expression shifted when he heard them, though the lens was the only witness that mattered.

After the final take, Elena watched the playback in silence.

Then she removed her headset.

"That's a wrap on Noah and Julian."

Applause filled the platform.

Someone opened champagne. Crew members embraced, production assistants took photographs, and Dana congratulated Elena beside the monitors.

Elliot remained near the train.

Roman approached with two glasses and offered him one.

"We finished it," he said.

"Looks that way."

"You were incredible."

Elliot accepted the champagne. "So were you."

Roman smiled, but the expression disappeared quickly.

He raised his glass, drank and stepped away when another producer called his name.

Elliot watched him join the crowd.

Their agreement ended when filming ended.

Elliot had written that rule himself.

The wrap party took place that night in a crowded bar downtown. Cast members occupied the dance floor while the crew gathered around tables covered with drinks and leftover promotional gifts.

Elliot stood near the back with a beer.

Roman spent most of the evening surrounded by producers, publicists and studio executives. People interrupted him whenever he moved.

He never reached Elliot's side of the room.

Elliot left before midnight.

Roman did not call the following morning.

Elliot checked his phone several times while making coffee. By the afternoon, he had begun inventing practical reasons for the silence.

Roman was busy. Production had ended. Their daily routine had ended with it.

On the second day, Elliot sent a message.

Everything okay?

Roman replied several hours later.

Yes. Press meetings. Hope you're resting.

Elliot typed three different answers and deleted them all.

I'm fine.

Roman did not continue the conversation.

Four days passed.

The absence of Roman's car outside the building changed Elliot's mornings. He still woke at six-thirty and looked through the window before remembering there would be no coffee waiting downstairs.

The silver ring hung from a chain beneath his shirt.

On the fifth morning, Elliot held it against the light and traced the initials inside the band.

He had told Roman he would stay.

Roman had responded by leaving Vancouver.

Elliot called him on the sixth day. The call went to voicemail, and he hung up without leaving a message.

On the seventh, he tried again by text.

Can we talk?

Roman answered that evening.

I'm in Los Angeles for the press tour. Schedule is packed. I'm sorry.

Elliot read the message twice.

Roman had never mentioned a press tour.

He placed the phone on the coffee table and spent the rest of the evening trying to watch television.

The following afternoon, a photograph appeared in his social media feed.

Roman stood outside a Los Angeles hotel in a dark coat. A woman wearing a hat walked beside him, and Roman carried her suitcase.

The headline called her a mystery woman.

Elliot opened the article.

According to an unnamed source, they had arrived together late the previous night. Roman's representatives had declined to comment.

Elliot enlarged the photograph.

Roman's face was turned toward the woman. She had one hand around his arm, and her long hair concealed most of her face.

Elliot read the article again.

The ring beneath his shirt pressed against his chest.

Their agreement had ended at the station. Roman was free to see anyone he wanted.

Elliot closed the article.

A moment later, he opened it again.