When Max yelled “Cut!” I snapped out of it. I stood up and rushed to my robe. I blushed. Me. Evelyn Hugo. Blushing. Don asked if I was all right, and I turned away from him, not wanting him to touch me. “I’m fine,” I said, and then I went to my dressing room, closed the door, and bawled my eyes out. I wasn’t ashamed of what I’d done. I wasn’t nervous for audiences to see it. The tears that fell down my face were because I realized what I had done to Celia. I had been a person who believed she stuck by a certain code. It may not have been a code that others subscribed to, but it was one that made sense to me. And part of that code was being honest with Celia, being good to her. And this was not good to Celia. Doing what I had just done, without her blessing, was not good for the woman I loved. When we wrapped for the day, I walked the fifty blocks home instead of grabbing a car. I needed the time to myself. I stopped on the way and bought flowers. I called Harry from a pay phone and asked him to take Connor for the night. Celia was in the bedroom when I got home, drying her hair. “I got you these,” I said, handing her the bouquet of white lilies. I did not mention that the florist had said that white lilies mean My love is pure. “Oh, my God,” she said. “They are gorgeous. Thank you.” She smelled them and then grabbed a water glass, filled it from the tap, and put the flowers in it. “Just for a moment,” she said. “Until I have a chance to choose a vase.” “I wanted to ask you something,” I said. “Oh, boy,” she said. “Are these flowers just to butter me up?” I shook my head. “No,” I said. “The flowers are because I love you. Because I want you to know how often I think of you, how important you are to me. I don’t tell you that enough. I wanted to tell you this way. With those.”