“Cut!” Olivia’s voice rings out, making all the camera and sound crew sigh. I rub my temple and step back from you, removing my arms from around your waist. “Sorry, sorry,” I groan, rubbing my eyes with the palms of my hands. We were filming particular risqué scene where I came in and had to lift you onto the dining table, and for some reason I kept flubbing my lines.

“Take ten, everyone!,” Olivia calls out, walking away. “I’m so, so sorry. It’s not you, swear,” I sigh, turning to you.