A dimly lit pub. The kind of wood creaks under your feet, and the smell of stale beer and lost dreams lingers in the air. Jack sits alone at a corner table, visibly nervous, fidgeting with his pint. The door swings open. A British man in his 70s, sharp suit, slightly weathered, strides in with the confidence of a man who's seen it all. This is Neville Wright, Jack's aging acting agent, a man who probably once owned Hollywood but lost it in a poker game.
He drops into the seat opposite Jack, setting down two fresh pints.
One for excitement, one for regret.
Jack raises a brow, unimpressed.
Which one am I supposed to drink first?
Jack leans forward, impatient.
Why'd you want to see me so soon?
Neville takes a slow sip, letting the anticipation drag out. Then with a grin sharper than a knife fight in a phone booth. Jack sits up straighter, his fingers tightening around his pine glass.
What do you mean?
Neville leans in, eyes glinting with victory.
How would you like a three-year contract? A two-year extension of the chosen wood, a two million payous salary, and the best part.
Jack waits, heart pounding.
You'd be working with Dick Blood Wolf!
Jack's eyes go wide. You're kidding.
I never kid about money.
Jack laughs, shaking his head in disbelief. What's the show?
Spectral victims a unit.
Jack's smile falters slightly.
Wait, that films in New York.
Neville nods slowly, waiting for Jack to connect the dots.
How long's the filming schedule? Around ten months every year.
Jack leans back, staring at his pint.
That's too long.
Neville laughs, shaking his head.
Now come on, son. We're talking serious money. A career-changing rule. A franchise that never dies.
Jack doesn't respond. Neville studies him, suddenly understanding. Jack glances away, avoiding the question.
Look, Jack, you and I both know this town's dying. Half the industry's already moved elsewhere. It's not like you've got anything time here.
Jack opens his mouth to argue, then his phone buzzes. He glances at the caller ID. It reads, Fluffy, Diane. He hesitates, then he declines the call. Neville smirks knowingly. Jack looks up.
And for all our sakes, make the right choice.
Neville downs his pint in one go, gives Jack a final pat on the shoulder, and strides out. Jack sits there, alone again, the weight of the decision settling onto his shoulders. He picks up his beer, stares at it for a beat, then drinks from both pints. Diane sits in front of a mirror, methodically wiping off her makeup, her expression blank, her movements almost robotic. The trailer door swings open, and Maggie strides in, holding two coffees, one for Diane, one for herself.
She sets the coffee down on the counter with a sharp thud, arms crossed tightly, her gaze cutting through the silence with disbelief.
Well, the press is already buzzing about your breakup. They're sympathetic given the circumstances, but still eating it up. What?
We haven't even announced the breakup yet. That's not supposed to happen until next month. Maggie tilts her head, unimpressed.
Right. So how could you just let him go like that?
Diane blinks at her reflection, unfazed. How about we start with hi? Maybe a brief outline of the topics we'll discuss, and then move on to you blurting out whatever's on your mind. Maggie rolls her eyes, waving off the sarcasm.
You don't know?
Diane finally turns to face her, tossing her makeup wipe into the counter. Don't know what. Maggie hesitates, shifting awkwardly.
Look, you're not hearing it from me, okay?
Diane scoffs. Maggie, just spit it out. Maggie exhales, then drops the bomb.
Jack just landed his first major gig.
Diane freezes. Maggie holds up a finger.
And before you ask, yes, he still has to confirm it.
Diane leans back, forcing an indifferent expression. That's nice for him, but why is this such a big deal? Maggie arches a brow, sipping her coffee.
It's in New York. Diane's shoulders tense. And Neville, his agent, who also happens to be a golf buddy of Chris's, says the filming schedule is nine to ten months per year.
Diane's lips part slightly, but she says nothing. And the contract? Maggie takes another long sip of her coffee, then three years. Possibly five. Diane closes her eyes for a beat, then mutters. Fuck. Maggie nods sympathetically, perching on the edge of the counter.
Yeah. That about sums it up.
Diane stares at nothing in particular, processing. Maggie, attempting optimism, shrugs. It could still work out. Diane shoots her a look. In what universe?
I don't know. A fake one where there's unicorns, flying pigs, and we all have clear skin without a skincare routine.
Diane lets out a short, bitter laugh, then runs a hand through her hair. I've lost him. Maggie leans forward, serious now.
You don't know that for sure.
Diane stares down at the coffee cup in her hands, uncertain. He might not go. Diane swallows hard, staring at her own reflection again.
If he loves you, he'll stay.
Diane presses her lips together, trying to mask the doubt creeping in. Because for the first time, she's not sure if he does.
We hope you're loving this episode of Stolen Kiss. If it's making your heart race or ache just a little, make sure you hit follow wherever you're listening so you never miss what happens next. And while you're here, dive into more from that love podcast. Check out Posh and Ginger, our six-part buddy rom-com packed with sharp banter, chaos, and the kind of chemistry that refuses to behave. If you love fast dialogue and slow burn tension, this one's for you.
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Stephanie and Antonio stand at the altar, hands clasped, gazing at each other with love and certainty. Jack, standing beside Antonio as the best man, adjust his tie. He sneaks a glance at Diane, who stands opposite him in a studding bridesmaid dress, bouquet in hand. She catches his gaze, but there's something in her eyes, something unresolved. The priest speaks, but Diane barely hears him. Her mind is elsewhere. Her mind is on Jack.
Do you, Antonio, take Stephanie to be your lawfully awaited wife?
Antonio, beaming, doesn't hesitate.
I do.
Stephanie smiles through happy tears.
And do you, Stephanie, take Antonio to be your lawfully awaited husband?
A flicker of hesitation. Then? I do. The church awakes and take a pause as the couple shows the pink golden eats. Jack claps Antonio's shoulder, grinning. Diane wipes away a small tear, trying to ignore the ache in her chest. As the guests cheer, the newlyweds walk down the aisle together, hand in hand, followed by their wedding party. Diane and Jack walk together behind them, the church doors opening onto the sunlit streets where the wedding cars await to take them to the reception.
But as they near the exit, Diane suddenly stops. Jack walks a few more steps before realizing. He turns.
Everyone's leaving.
Diane doesn't move. The sound of guests filtering out fades into the background noise. She grips her bouquet tighter, her expression unreadable. You're really not going to tell me, are you? Jack's face tenses.
Tell you what?
About New York? Jack stiffens. A long, thick silence. Diane's eyes blaze with anger, her voice low but dangerous. You've had 32 hours to say something, Jack. Jack runs a hand through his hair, shifting uncomfortably.
I was going to tell you.
When? On the plane? Jack sighs.
Diane, this isn't easy for me either.
She lets out a bitter laugh, shaking her head. Really? Because from where I'm standing, it looks real easy for you. Jack steps closer, voice lowering.
You think this is what I wanted? You think I wanted to have to choose?
Diane crosses her arms, defensive, hurt. There is no choice here, Jack. You don't have to go. Jack's jaw tightens, frustration flashing in his eyes.
Yes, I do.
He takes a step closer, his voice urgent.
You could come with me. I mean, it's not like you're chained to the city.
Diane lets out a sharp breath, shaking her head. Jack, I have three films lined up, back to back, for the next 12 months. Contracts signed, sealed, delivered. I can't just walk away. Jack scoffs, his bitterness barely contained.
And I don't have a career at all yet.
Diane's expression softens, but there's a desperation behind her words. Jack, you don't need to prove anything to anyone. Jack laughs bitterly, shaking his head.
Yeah, that's easy for you to say. You already made it.
Jack exhales sharply, his voice growing frustrated.
It's my dream, Diane. The thing I've wanted since I was a kid.
And what about me? Jack doesn't answer. Diane swallows, her voice breaking slightly. We finally got here, Jack. We finally figured it out, and now you're just walking away. Jack's face softens, but there's pain in his eyes.
I'm not walking away, I'm just moving forward.
Diane shakes her head. Without me. Jack hesitates.
Not without you, just not here.
Diane lets out a shaky breath, her eyes glistening. You know, I thought I could be okay with this. I thought he'll pick me. He'll stay. She sniffs, looking away. But I see it now. She looks back at him, and for the first time she knows the answer before he says it. Jack doesn't respond, because they both know the truth. Jack wants this. Jack needs this. And that means he's leaving. Diane nods slowly, biting the inside of her cheek to keep herself from falling apart, then softly. Go then.
Jack's chest tightens.
Diane.
She shakes her head. Go. Jack looks like he wants to say more, to explain, to hold her and fix everything, but there's nothing left to fix. A long, painful beep. Then he turns and walks away. Diane watches him go, heartbroken but refusing to break in front of him. As Jack disappears into the crowd, she finally allows herself to breathe, her chest rising and falling unevenly. A wedding bell rings in the distance. A moment that should be about love and forever, and yet she just lost both.
Jack stands at gate 24, his carry-on slug over his shoulder, hands tightly gripping the strap. Stephanie and Antonio stand with him, the mood heavier than it should be. Jack's eyes flicker toward the crowd, scanning it. He's hoping, waiting. But Diane isn't here. Again. Stephanie notices, sighs, and nudges him gently. She's still not picking up, huh? Jack shakes his head, his smile weak.
Not once.
Antonio pats him on the back. Jack exhales, then reaches into his jacket pocket and pulls out a sealed envelope.
Here.
He hands it to Stephanie, his fingers lingering for just a second longer.
Give this to her for me.
Stephanie takes it hesitantly, watching her brother's face closely. Jack, if you love her.
I do. But she needs time. And I need to do this.
Stephanie nods, though her expression betrays her heartbreak for him.
Flight lacks 2333 to New York now boarding.
The final boarding call for his flight echoes overhead. Jack glances at the screen. No more time left. He pulls Stephanie into a hug, then Antonio.
Take care of each other, yeah?
I will.
Yeah, you too, man.
Jack gives them one last smile, then turns and heads towards security. He doesn't look back. Stephanie and Antonio watch him disappear through the crowd, the reality of his absence settling in. As soon as he's out of sight, a woman in oversized sunglasses steps forward. She's been watching from afar. Stephanie and Antonio turn in surprise as she removes the shades. It's Diane.
Her face is stoic, but her eyes are red, her lips pressed together tightly as she stares at the boarding gate where Jack once stood. Stephanie extends the letter. Diane stares at it for a long moment. Then finally she takes it. She inhales sharply, then slowly opens the envelope, pulling out Jack's handwritten letter. Jack's letter. Diane, I wish I was saying this to you in person. I wish I had more time. But you and I both know that if I saw you one last time, I'd never leave. I love you.
I've loved you for as long as I've known you, and I'm sorry. I'm sorry for every time I made you doubt that. You are the best part of my story. But this is a dream I have to follow through with. Not because I want to leave you, but because if I don't go now, I know I'll never find out who I am outside of just being yours. And you deserve someone who knows exactly who they are when they stand beside you. I don't know what the future holds, but if I have any say in it, our story isn't over.
Please don't hate me for choosing this. Yours always, Jack. Diane reads it slowly, her hands shaking slightly. Stephanie watches carefully, waiting for some kind of reaction. Diane just stares at the paper, blinking hard. Then, finally, she folds the letter back up, presses it to her chest, and exhales. She nods once, a silent acceptance. No anger, no outburst, just heartbreak settling in. Stephanie wraps an arm around her, pulling her close. You okay? Diane lets out a small, bitter laugh.
Not even close. She slips the letter into her purse, puts her sunglasses back on, and turns toward the exit. Stephanie follows, glancing one last time at Jack's plane through the window before walking away with Diane. As they exit, a plane takes off in the background, taking Jack with it.
And that's a wrap on this episode of Stolen Kiss. We hope you loved every second. If you did, be sure to follow that love podcast wherever you listen, so you never miss a moment. This episode featured the voices of Chakri Matayanant, Sierra Haas, Emerson Peary, and Burr Kell. Written, produced, and directed by Joao and Sita. If today's romantic train wreck made you smile, swoon, or gasp, do us a favor and leave a five star review.
It helps more love struck listeners discover the show and keeps this story alive and thriving. Until next time, stay kind, stay beautiful, and never forget that you are deeply loved.