I thought I'd never see Jacob again.
Until the first episode of the documentary Stanley and I filmed together aired.
It was drizzling in South City when I spotted him standing outside the eaves, letting the rain soak through his clothes.
"Cheryl... come home with me."
His voice was rough, cutting through the family banquet we were filming.
A fisherman's wife had just set a steaming bowl of fish soup on the table. The cameras were still rolling.
Jacob stood outside the set with the sleeves of his black shirt rolled to his elbows. Rain clung to his hair and shoulders.
He'd lost weight.
In one hand was a brown paper bag. In the other, a familiar ring box.
The director glanced at me.
I said calmly, "Keep rolling."
Jacob didn't interrupt. He waited until filming wrapped before walkin
