by Serena Grey
Another critic. It’s amusing to see how excited she is. “You already know what it’s going to say.”
“Even more reason to read it. I always read the positive reviews. It’s the negative ones I’ve learned to avoid.”
She scrolls through her phone, then stops. She frowns and taps on something. A page opens, casting electronic light on her face. She turns worried eyes in my direction.
I know it’s impossible that the noted theatre critic would have anything negative to say about her performance. How can he? It’s the performance of a decade. “What is it? What did he say?”
She hands me the phone and I see a headline screaming in lurid red lettering.
Lkay gets her groove back! Liz McKay and director Aidan Court enjoy opening night tryst.
There’s a picture of us on her balcony, kissing. My hand is inside Liz’s robe and I’m naked. There are a few other pictures of us having breakfast together and even entering the building together. Obviously, a lucky photographer has been watching her apartment from one of the other buildings on the street.
“Assholes,” I mutter under my breath.
“I’m sorry,” Liz says.
I look from the phone to her apprehensive expression. “It’s not your fault.”
“Yes, but…it’s my reality, and now I’ve dragged you into it.”
The chaos of her celebrity life is the least of the things I’d brave to be with her.
Then tell her.
I can’t
Because it won’t matter. She’ll leave and rip my heart out when she does.
“I don’t mind. I don’t have any qualms about being seen with you, Liz. I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but you’re one of the most desirable women in the country. In the world, even.”
She inhales sharply and reaches for the phone. “You didn’t even read the article.”
I shrug. “I have zero interest in what people at a gossip site have to say.”
It’s partly true. In a few weeks, I’ll care again. When the rumors are about her and another man. I’ll torture myself with images of how things could have been different. I’ll torture myself with how, once again, I’ve been left behind, holding the pieces of my heart.
“It won’t matter in a few days,” I hold her gaze, hating the regret I can see in her eyes, because it changes nothing. “Once you’re back in L.A., there’ll be new rumors, a new love interest.”
The sheets rustle as she turns away. “Stop it.”
“It’s true.”
“And you’re okay with that?”
I shrug. “Are you okay with that?”
She pulls in a breath. “What do you want me to do, Aidan?”
I want you to stay! I want us to be together. To rebuild the life we could have had. I want you to know that I love you desperately. That I’ll never be able to love anyone else, only you.
Out loud, I say nothing, because whatever she needs, it’s not the words that communicate the feelings she already knew seven years ago. Feelings that didn’t stop her from leaving then and won’t stop her now.
She will take your soul and crush it without a thought.
I stroke my thumb over her bottom lip. Under my touch, it quivers. “Come here,” I murmur, pulling her to me. “We might as well make the most of the time we have left.”
We make love, and it’s only later, when she’s asleep in my arms, that I notice the tears on her cheeks.
Chapter Thirty Six
Liz
“Liz, are you sleeping with your director?”
“Liz, when are you returning to L. A?”
“Liz, why are you leaving the play?”
“Liz, are you having an affair with Aidan Court?”
The questions batter me as soon as Percy opens the door. I climb out of the car and let him shield me with his body as we hurry to the stage door. Rope barricades line the path to the door to protect me, but as the reporters hurl the words across like missiles, each new one makes me flinch.
The door closes behind me and I breathe in the relative peace and silence inside the theater. The security guard touches his cap in a silent greeting and goes back to the book he’s reading.
“You’re all right?” Percy asks.
I nod.
He heads back outside. It’s been like this for days. Ever since the pictures came out. The frenzy is draining. The paparazzi follow me from my apartment to the theater and back, taking pictures and screaming questions at me.
On TV, it’s no better, the entertainment networks show the pictures of me and Aidan on the balcony over and over again, and we have to listen to suggestive comments about his perfect ass. Aidan isn’t fazed, apart from arranging for extra security at both our buildings and at the theater, he ignores the frenzy and the paparazzi like they don’t exist.
I hurry toward my dressing room to prepare for my last performance. After the press release went out two days ago about my departure, there were protests on the website and on my social media accounts, and a flurry of returned tickets. I’m almost too ashamed to face anyone on the production, but I have to leave, for my sanity.
Natalia is waiting outside my dressing room.
“Here you are,” she says drily. She’s mad at me too, but she understands a lot more than the people outside.
“Here I am.” I give her a tight smile and unlock my door.
She follows me inside. “When are you leaving?”
I frown. “You already know my last performance is tonight.”
“I’m not talking about the play.” She waves a dismissive hand. “When are you leaving New York?”
I shrug. “In a few days…maybe sooner.”
“What about Aidan?”
I swallow. “What about him?”
She gives me an impatient look. “Is he okay with it?”
I sigh. “I don’t know. He hasn’t asked me to stay…And you know how he was before. He could barely stand to be in the same room with me until my dad died…” I take a deep breath. “Now, he’s…I have no idea what he feels.”
“You’re such a fool,” Natalia rolls her eyes. “We’re all fools though, when it comes to love.”
“I’m trying not to be a fool. I love him, but what happens in a week, a month, when he’s no longer overcome with guilt, or pity or whatever he’s feeling for me right now?”
“Jesus, Liz.”
“You know what my dad said to me in the last moments I spent with him at the hospital? He said, don’t settle, Liz. Don’t settle for less than you want…”
“And you think he meant Aidan?”
“Yes! He knew more than anyone how easily I could be tempted to stay with Aidan, even when I can’t be sure how he feels. What else could he have meant?”
“Your father didn’t want you to spend the rest of your life unhappy, trying to make the most of a career that has long ceased to inspire you, just because you’re too afraid to fight for the love you always wanted.” Her eyes soften. “Aidan is what you want. You love him. He loves you…”
“He doesn’t…I don’t…”
Natalia barks out a bitter laugh. “Liz,” she says with a pitying smile. “I thought it was obvious, even to you, that he never stopped loving you. Isn’t that the reason you came back and tried so hard to change his mind about you? He was angry, Liz. He has been angry for seven years.”
“But…”
“Death makes us question our convictions. At least, it’s made me question mine. For years, I focused on all the reasons I couldn’t be with your father the way I wanted, instead of all the great things about what we had. Now, it’s too late for us, but it’s not too late for you.”
“Nat…”
“Don’t walk away from him again.”
I pull in a breath. I wish it was that easy. He expects me to leave, and he hasn’t asked me to stay. Natalia has tears in her eyes, and I don’t want to distress her any further with this subject.
“You sure you’re not mad about the play?”
“Oh, I am.” She smiles. “Very mad. Once again, you’re costing this company a chance at the best actress award.”
“I’m sorry.”
“I understand. The first time, you were rash and immature. This time, you lost your father.” She sighs. “It’s not all sentiment for me, however. I love you, but our lawyers have made sure it’ll cost you a lot of money to leave. Money that will compensate McKay Theater Productions for ticket refunds and that award.” She pauses. “Your manager is the one who’ll be furious with you.”
“He’s half furious and half hopeful I’ll do the movie with Devlin Coates.”
She shrugs. “He’s a good manager.” After a pause, she gives me an encouraging smile. “I wish you the best, Liz. No matter what you do.”
“Thanks.”
“We’re arranging a press conference with your people to clear all the crazy rumors flying around.”
“Yes, I know.”
After she leaves, I close my eyes, and my mind drifts to Aidan.
Aidan is what you want.
My heart longs for him with a raw aching hunger. I’ve wanted him for so long, ached for him for so long…that I believed I’d be willing to take almost anything he offered.
Even if he was offering nothing at all.
But I can’t. I can’t choose the uncertainty of not knowing when his resentment and anger would rise to the surface again. I’m not strong enough to bear his inevitable rejection when the sex and pity is no longer enough.
An announcement comes over the loudspeakers and I undress. It’s time to let go of my thoughts, my hopes, myself, and to prepare for that one last performance, my last curtain, which sadly, feels like it’s also a curtain closing on my life.
“We’re sad to announce and confirm that this will be the last curtain call for Liz McKay on the Break of Day.”
I bow again and the audience applauds and makes sounds of regret. The orchestra plays loudly from the pit. The applause grows to a crescendo. Beside me my co-stars clap as I walk downstage and bow again to the audience.
Aidan is not onstage with us. In fact, I haven’t seen him all day.
Is he keeping his distance now that the end is in sight? Maybe he has decided there’s no point in sticking around for a painful goodbye?
Backstage, the mood is bittersweet. I say farewells until my mouth is dry. I leave my set assistant to pack up my dressing room and call Percy. Then I go to the stage door and spend an hour signing autographs until my wrists are aching.
Still no Aidan.
At home, I let the sound of the TV distract me from my thoughts. I pour myself a glass of wine and run a bath. I read my messages, the censorious one from my manager, the understanding but confused one from Fiona. She wants us to hang out tomorrow after the press conference. I agree, even though I’m sure I’ll be too heartsick to be anything but a drag.
There’s nothing from Aidan. Not a message. Not a call.
He loves you.
Or maybe not.
Maybe he crossed the thin line a long time ago, and now, there’s no crossing back.
I finish my wine and get into bed, trying not to cry as I drift into sleep.
Chapter Thirty Seven
Aidan
“I never knew you to be a coward.” Cruz gives me a judgey look and turns back to watch the basketball game on the court.
“Why is everyone making this about me? She’s the one who decided to leave…again.”
“It is about you,” he says. “You’re the one who’s choosing to let her go.”
I try for levity, even though I’m dying inside. In a few hours, Liz will give a press conference to discuss her decision to leave the play and talk about her next project. I won’t be there, and if she leaves immediately, then I won’t see her again. I sigh. “Modern woman. Mature woman. Makes her own choices.”
Cruz snorts. “And you, what choice have you made? To hide until she leaves?”
“I’m spending time with you, my friend. Watching an intensely competitive game in good weather. Who’s hiding?”
“You are.”
I close my eyes and cover my face with my hands. “It doesn’t matter what I do or say. She’ll leave anyway.”
“You won’t know that until you do and say something.” He tears his eyes away from the game and faces me. “She came back. She told you she never stopped loving you. You pushed her and pushed her, and she didn’t give up. Now, that she has, maybe it’s time for you to pull.”
“And if I come up empty?”
“Then at least you tried.”
In the Uber on the way to Liz’s apartment, my mind churns with all the unspoken words from the past seven years, from the past months.
I love you.
Those are the most important words of all. The words of surrender.
And I am ready to surrender. No matter what happens. I’ll let her know that I’ll be here, loving her, for the rest of my life.
She doesn’t answer her phone when I try to call, and no one answers her doorbell when I ring. Desperate, I call Natalia.
“Aidan.” She sounds distracted.
“I’m sorry to bother you, but do you know where I can find Liz?”
She is quiet for a moment. “Her people moved the press thing up by an hour. It’s starting around now.”
I swallow. “Okay. Thanks.”
I know the venue of the press conference, and I start to request another ride to take me there, then when I reach the sidewalk and the ride isn’t there yet, I cancel it and break into a run.
I need to speak to her.
Outside the hotel, there’s the usual gaggle of paparazzi. Inside the lobby, signs point out the direction of the conference room. I follow the signs, stopping just outside the double doors that lead inside.
I can hear a voice speaking into a microphone, the clicks of cameras, the rustle of tens of bodies hoping to be the first to break an interesting titbit, to take the picture all the celeb magazines will want to buy.
And then Liz. There’s her voice through the speakers. Even through the doors, though I can’t hear what she’s saying, I can hear her, and I can feel the preview of my loss of her, and it’s something I cannot bear.
“You going to stand there, mate, or are you going to go in?”
A surly man with a camera and press credentials is glaring at me, and shaking his head, he pushes the door open.
Sound envelopes me, the cacophony of questions. At the far side of the room. Liz is seated at a table, her manager and agent beside her, her face serene as she watches the clamor of cameras, notes and recorders.
I love you.
“Are you returning to L.A.?”
“Not for now.” She smiles at the reporter. “I think I deserve a few weeks of rest.”
Noise.
“You’re going on a vacation?”
“Yes.”
Noise.
“Will you be returning to film your movie with Devlin Coates?”
“Not right now. No.”
Noise.
It’s news to me that she’s not returning to the film. She’s leaving everything behind, and for a moment, all I feel is pride, for her. Because she’s doing this for herself.
Her manager’s face is stony, but I barely notice. I can hardly take my eyes off Liz. My legs move me toward the front of the room.
“Are you leaving the production of the Break of Day because you have a bad working relationship with Aidan Court, the director?”
Liz smiles and shakes her head. “Working with Aidan has been the high point of doing this play. I have a great relationship with him, and he’s a very talented director, and a professional.”
“Yet, you’re leaving.”
“As I said, I need some time to rest.”
“Is there anything that would make you stay?”
She turns in my direction, looking as shocked as I am by the sound of my voice on the speakers. I wasn’t even conscious of grabbing the mic from
a passing intern. “Is there anything that would make you stay?” I ask again.
Liz stares at me, wordless. Around us, the room is silent, but I barely notice. She’s the only one I see. “I don’t…”
“What if I told you I love you? That I’ve always loved you, that I never stopped loving you…that no matter what happens here, I’ll always be waiting, unable to love anyone else? What if I admit you’ve captured and enslaved me, and I’m helplessly yours, and even if you choose not to stay, I’ll be happy, grateful, delirious even, if you consider forgiving me for my rudeness, resentment, anger…enough to bear my presence in your life…as anything you want…Your companion, friend, lover, your willing slave?
She chuckles, and it lights up her face. “Aidan…I…”
“I love you,” I say again, letting her see the truth on my face.
Always, Liz.
Her eyes close, and when she opens them and looks at me again, the whole room disappears and it’s just me and her. She rises from her seat and rounds the table, stepping down from the raised area and approaching me. I go to meet her, closing the distance in a few strides. In the background, I can hear the clamor. I can hear her manager making an announcement, but I don’t hear the words.
I only have eyes for Liz. When I’m right in front of her, I stop walking and reach for her. She turns up her gaze to mine, and there’s a small smile on her lips.
“What took you so long, Aidan?”
I release a breath, weak with relief, weak with the realization that everything has changed.
“I have no idea.”
She sighs. “Say it again.”
I don’t hesitate. “I love you.”
“And I love you, Aidan. Always.”
I cup her face in my hands and claim her lips in a tender kiss.
Mine.
Always and Forever.
Epilogue
Liz
Five years later…
“Cut.”
I turn a glance toward the director’s chair, and he grins at me, clasping his hands together in unconcealed ecstasy. “That’s it, folks.”