I Will: A Paul Walker and Jessica Alba Love Story

Chapter 16: The World Doesn't Stop

Jessica's POV

Our time in the mountains had felt like a dream. A reprieve from the noise. A moment where the world had just stopped, allowing us to reconnect in a way I didn't even realize we needed. But reality had a funny way of creeping in, and the moment we returned to the city, it was as though the weight of the world was waiting for us.

The paparazzi, the constant flashing of cameras, the whispers—nothing had changed. They were still there, lurking around every corner. We were back in the eye of the storm, and I had to admit, it stung a little.

But I wasn't the same person I had been before. Neither was Paul. We had something real now, something worth protecting, and I wasn't about to let the press tear us apart.

It was the night of a major event in Hollywood—a charity gala that drew all the big names. We had been invited as a couple, and despite everything that had happened, it felt like the right step.

I could feel the tension in the air the moment we stepped onto the red carpet. Cameras flashed from every direction, and the noise of the crowd was deafening. But with Paul by my side, it was almost as if the world had softened.

He was wearing a sharp black tuxedo, his blue eyes gleaming under the lights, and I couldn't help but smile. He looked absolutely perfect. But it wasn't just about how he looked—there was a confidence in his stride, a quiet strength that radiated from him.

I, on the other hand, was in a fitted black dress, simple but elegant, my hair styled in soft waves. I felt good, but I also felt the pressure of being scrutinized, especially with the press around us. I could feel their eyes following us, waiting for something to happen, some kind of misstep that would fuel their stories.

But when Paul turned to me, his hand resting casually on my lower back, he smiled and whispered, "Don't worry about them. We've got this."

His words grounded me, just like they always did. He was right. We had each other, and that was all we needed.

The night was a blur of conversations, handshakes, and smiles for the cameras. Every time we'd pause for an interview or a photo, the world seemed to slow down for a second, and I'd look at Paul, his reassuring presence a reminder that we were in this together.

By the time we reached the end of the night, we were both exhausted. But it felt different this time. We had faced the storm, together. No one could touch us.

As we were leaving the venue, we were surrounded by a throng of reporters, each trying to get the first scoop or catch a glimpse of something scandalous. I held onto Paul's arm a little tighter, feeling the familiar tension rise in my chest.

"Just keep walking," Paul whispered, sensing my discomfort.

I nodded, focusing on the sound of his voice, the feel of his hand around mine. We made it to the car, and as the doors closed behind us, I exhaled a breath I didn't realize I'd been holding.

"Thank you for being my calm tonight," I said, turning to face him.

He smiled, his eyes softening. "I've got you, always."

We didn't speak much on the ride home, but there was a comfort in the silence. I rested my head against the window, watching the city lights flicker by. There was a strange peace in knowing that, no matter how chaotic the world was outside, inside our little bubble, we were okay.

When we got to Paul's place, he led me inside, and for the first time in a while, I didn't feel the weight of the world. I just felt him. And that was enough.