Page 152 of Love Unscripted
“That one with the skier?”
He shook his head. “I changed my mind about that. They’re considering a lead actress who isn’t Camille Carlucci so I’m no longer interested.”
She made a sympathetic face but, secretly, she was delighted.
“This is a Bible project based on the life of David.”
“So, are you also playing David?”
“I’m a young David. Then my father is an older David.”
“I love it. So if you’re David, am I Saul’s daughter, or Abigail or Bathsheba.”
He laughed. “You are definitely not Bathsheba. Bathsheba is going to appear with the older David, my dad. No, you’ll be Abigail. What are your thoughts?”
“I’m thinking about how we can stretch that out for a few episodes,” she said playfully.
He laughed softly, shaking his head.
“Episodes?” he repeated. “No… not episodes.”
He leaned forward then, his tone shifting—less playful now, more focused, more intent.
“Seasons.”
Camille stilled, studying him.
Aaron’s gaze held hers, steady, thoughtful, as though he could already see it unfolding.
“I don’t want Abigail to feel like a moment in David’s life,” he continued. “I want her to feel like a presence. Like someone the audience already knows before she ever meets him.”
He paused, choosing his words carefully.
“We introduce her early—long before the wilderness. She has her own storyline. Her own world. You’re running a household, managing people, navigating a difficult marriage. People see your wisdom before David ever does.”
Camille’s brows lifted slightly, interest sharpening.
“And while David is rising—Saul’s court, the victories, the tension—you’re hearing about him. Bits and pieces. Stories. Rumors.” He gave a faint smile. “Maybe even defending him before you’ve ever laid eyes on him.”
She tilted her head. “So by the time they meet…”
“It’s not random,” he finished. “It’s inevitable.”
A quiet beat settled between them.
He continued, his voice low, thoughtful.
“The wilderness arc becomes your collision point. But that’s not where you begin—and it’s definitely not where you end.”
Her fingers shifted slightly in his, unconsciously tightening.
“I want to stretch what happens after,” he said. “Your marriage to David isn’t a footnote. It’s layered. Complicated. You’re stepping into a life that’s already… crowded. Already forming.”
Camille’s gaze didn’t leave his face.
“And as he becomes king,” Aaron went on, “you don’t disappear. Even if the text goes quiet, the story doesn’t have to. You’re still there. Watching. Influencing. Seeing things before he does.”
A flicker of something deeper crossed his expression.
