Playing the Part

by Darcy Daniel

  He flinched at the distinctive sound of a zipper being forced around a suitcase.

  “Bullshit,” she said. “This whole thing was just some sick way to get back at me! So let me be the first to congratulate you. Because your little plan worked a goddamn treat!”

  The rumble of the suitcase’s wheels and her footsteps pounded toward him. As she tried to edge past, he reached out and grabbed her arm.

  “No. Just listen. Let me explain.”

  She wrenched away from his grasp, and in that moment, he knew he was losing her.

  “I have no interest in anything you have to say,” she said and pushed past him.

  He froze for a moment, considered just letting her go, until his heart squeezed hard in his chest. He had to fight for her. Moving fast, he followed her footsteps along the hallway.

  “I knew you’d do this!” he yelled after her.

  Her feet stopped. The suitcase wheels rumbled to a halt. “Me?”

  “I’m not the only one who lied, am I? I gave you plenty of opportunities to tell me the truth, but you never took one of them. Not even after you knew I’d forgiven you for your childish teasing.”

  “The difference is,” she said, her voice tight, strained, “I wasn’t trying to hurt you.”

  He swallowed hard. She was right. He couldn’t argue away his initial reason for letting her stay. But she had to see what she meant to him.

  “But you’re doing a damn fine job of it right now,” he said. He waited a moment and when he didn’t hear her move, he decided honesty was the only way to go. “Do you have any idea how hard it was to let you in? And now what? You’re running away? You think I can just go back to the way things were before you turned up? I’m stuck here, knowing what I’m bloody well missing out on!”

  “Good!” she shot back.

  Not the response he’d been hoping for.

  “You want to know what I thought I was missing out on?” she asked, though he knew it wasn’t a question. “Scum who think screwing an actress is some sort of social victory.”

  Was she crazy? “Oh, yeah. That’s what I was interested in!”

  He heard her move toward him, but not too close, not close enough so he could grab hold of her and never let go.

  “I was interested in finding someone who wanted just me. And I thought I had. I thought you fell for me because of who I was inside, not because I’m Anthea Cane. But you’re just like the rest of them. Worse!”

  He flinched as she stormed away with her suitcase rolling behind her. He remained motionless for a moment. She was about to leave his life for good.

  Shooting through the doorway, he bolted across the veranda. “Anthea?”

  A second later, her car started, revved hard. As she sped away, he was left there alone, listening to her car retreat. Listening to the only person he ever loved leave him forever.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Anthea had no idea how many times she stopped on the drive home. At first, all she’d felt was anger at being tricked and used, but the greater the distance grew between herself and Cole, the more that anger diminished. Before she knew it, tears spilled from her eyes and the world grew so waterlogged, she had to pull over and have a good cry.

  Problem was, once she started, she found it almost impossible to stop, and the five-hour drive home ended up taking seven.

  An hour from home, she stopped again on the side of the road, covered her face and wept like a fool. Her heart ached with unbearable pain. How could he have done that to her? If someone had asked, she would have told him that Cole Daniel didn’t have the slightest streak of meanness in him. But here she was, her heart torn apart by the one man she thought she could trust.

  Something cold and wet hit the back of her neck and slid down her spine. She jerked her face skyward. Fat, heavy drops of water splattered on the windscreen…and through the holes in the convertible’s torn fabric roof.

  Could it get any worse? Apparently. The whole sky opened up, releasing a downpour. At least the weather was a distraction from her pity party.

  Wiping her eyes, Anthea put the car in gear and moved into the heavy flow of Sydney’s traffic. The snail’s pace offered no escape from the thunderclouds. In fact, they followed her all the way into the city, making her feel like a miserable cartoon character with a raincloud over her head.

  By the time she reached her own street, she realized she couldn’t face her apartment, couldn’t go in there and be all alone again. She’d been happy with her life, but that seemed like a distant memory. Everything had changed.

  She’d changed.

  Exhausted beyond belief, she drove straight past her apartment building and kept going until she found herself in the eastern suburbs.

  By the time she pulled into Ethan’s driveway, she was soaked to the bone, but the chill she felt had nothing to do with the rain. That chill was dread. Dread that she’d lost something so important she couldn’t even begin to comprehend it just yet. Not in her current state of mind.

  Climbing from the car, the torrent of rain affecting her no more than it already had inside the car, she hauled her suitcase from the trunk.

  Warm welcoming lights shone in the windows of Ethan’s modest house. She hurried to the front door and rang the bell. A few seconds later the outside light came on, then Ethan opened the door, his face brightening with surprise.

  “Anth! Where’ve you been? I’ve been worried sick.”

  And she completely lost it all over again.

  He opened the door wider and pulled her inside. Before he could say anything, she hugged him and bawled against his chest while he awkwardly patted her back.

  After a minute, when it became clear that she seemed incapable of calming herself, he eased her away.

  “Hey. Come on. What happened?”

  She swallowed hard over the raw lump in her throat and opened her mouth, only to discover she couldn’t possibly speak. All she could do was shake her head.

  Clearly uncomfortable by this unusual display of emotion, Ethan said, “Come on, you need a shower. It’ll make you feel better. Less like a drowned rat.”

  That set her off all over again. The last time she thought of herself as a drowned rat had been the day she met Cole in his field of freshly planted saplings.

  Ignoring her new outburst, Ethan put an arm across her shoulders and guided her to the bathroom. She stood there and waited until he returned with a towel and one of his old tracksuits.

  Wearing men’s clothing again, she thought. Another reminder. When she reached into the shower stall and turned the faucets, she had a flash of Cole reaching in and shutting them off on her.

  Oh God. Would every little thing remind her of Cole?

  As she peeled off her wet clothes, she told herself to stop being so ridiculous. She had to get a grip. After all, she tried to reason, she would have left the farm in a day or two anyway to make the audition. What was the difference if she left a little early?

  But she couldn’t fool herself. Before discovering Cole’s plan to hurt her, she knew she had to leave, but also knew she’d return to him. Now, it seemed, she knew nothing.

  Waking the next morning from an emotionally exhausted sleep, Anthea felt completely disoriented. Then it all came crashing down on her, crushing her chest and stealing her breath. Just when she thought she might never be able to inhale again, a soft knock came from the bedroom door.

  “You decent?” Ethan called.

  She managed to suck enough air into her lungs to say, “Yeah.”

  The door opened and Ethan entered with a steaming mug. The scent of coffee pushed past her blocked sinuses as she eased herself into a sitting position.

  Ethan placed the mug on the nightstand and looked at her with an uncertainty she’d never seen in his eyes before. She knew wh
y. He’d never seen her as anything but his strong, confident sister. This vulnerability was an entirely new dimension, and he had no idea how to handle it.

  “Thanks,” she croaked as she brought the mug to her lips and took a tentative sip.

  “No prob. Listen, you can stay here as long as you want.”

  That made her feel a little better. “I think I might.”

  “Are you still going to the audition?”

  She’d thought about that last night. Although it was the last thing she felt like doing, she refused to let Cole ruin it for her. “Absolutely.”

  “It just… well, it doesn’t really look like you’re up to it,” he said with concern.

  “I will be,” she reassured him.

  He nodded. Uncomfortable again, he turned to go. As he headed to the door, he stopped, glancing over his shoulder. “You want to talk about it?”

  She shook her head. “I know the material backward.”

  “No, I meant…whatever it is that happened.”

  Her throat instantly tightened. “I can’t, or I’ll start…” Her chin trembled and she clamped down on the rising urge to cry.

  Clearly horrified, Ethan took the opportunity to head out the door.

  “Ethan,” she managed to call after him.

  He reappeared in the doorway a moment later.

  “I’m sorry for the selfish way I’ve behaved, and especially for not telling you how grateful I am for everything you’ve done for me. I’m truly sorry. And I promise you, that behavior is over.”

  Stunned, Ethan stared at her for a long while, a healthy dose of doubt in his eyes. Then he shrugged and disappeared.

  Anthea wasn’t surprised. She hadn’t exactly been appreciative of all he’d done for her, and a simple apology couldn’t erase a lifetime of taking him for granted. She just hoped that over time he’d come to see that she was genuine, that she’d changed.

  But for today, she’d stay in bed and churn everything that had happened over in her mind. After that, she’d pull herself together and get on with her life.

  * * *

  Cole lay in bed, his hand hanging over the edge. Meg nuzzled at it impatiently and let out a soft whine. A few minutes earlier he’d checked the time. 10:27 a.m. Last time he’d been in bed this late, was the morning before. He been exhausted then too, but for an entirely different reason.

  He hadn’t slept at all last night. How could he when she wasn’t beside him? Without her there, it felt like he’d never sleep again. Throughout the night, he played their parting words over and over, and the reality was, Anthea had every right to be furious with him. He’d known she’d be angry, but he hadn’t looked deep enough to put himself in her place. He hadn’t told her he loved her, and to her, that only fuelled her belief that he used and betrayed her simply to get even.

  Maybe if he’d told her what she meant to him before it all blew up in his face, things would be different.

  And that was something that bothered him no end. She hadn’t told him she loved him either, but all her actions said she did. Hadn’t he shown her the same thing? Weren’t actions supposed to speak louder than words?

  Then there was the fact that he thought she should know him well enough to know he wasn’t some cruel son of a bitch who took enormous pleasure in tearing someone’s heart to pieces.

  But, he knew deep down, the shock of hearing about his original payback plan could well have been enough to cloud her reasoning.

  He couldn’t blame her. She’d been right on the money when she admitted she’d lied too, but her lie hadn’t hurt anyone.

  No. He had no one to blame but himself.

  The problem was, it didn’t seem to matter who was to blame. All he knew was how empty he felt. Like she’d hollowed him out and taken the best parts of him with her and there was nothing on this earth that could replace them again, except her return.

  Meg licked his hand, nuzzled his palm.

  “Okay, okay,” he said as he pulled off the covers.

  After feeding a ravenous Meg, he leaned against the kitchen counter and waited for the kettle to boil, though he had no desire to drink, or eat for that matter. As he stood there, a thought seeped into his consciousness, and he began to shake.

  Before he could analyze the idea too closely, he pulled the junk drawer free of its housing and tipped its contents onto the floor. Dropping to his knees, he sorted through item after item, inspected each with his fingers and tossed them into the drawer.

  Until he found the key.

  On unsteady legs, he rose, headed from the kitchen into the hallway.

  He stopped in front of his childhood bedroom.

  The key rattled against the old-fashioned lock as his shaking fingers tried to find the hole. When the key slid home, he froze. This was it. It had been over twenty years since he’d been inside. After his parents’ deaths, he’d slept in their bedroom, vowing never to set foot in his own room again.

  Yet here he was, about to do just that.

  Taking a deep breath, he applied pressure to the key, but it wouldn’t turn. Rusty, he thought. He jiggled it back and forth, felt it start to loosen. And then the lock clacked.

  He turned the handle. Hinges creaked as the door swung open.

  As he stepped into the room, the musty smell hit him first, but nothing bad happened—not that he thought it would. The real reason he avoided this room was to evade the memories. But he’d forced himself to relive the experience by telling Anthea what happened here, which meant the room no longer had to be forgotten.

  He moved in further, searched with his hand until he found his old single bed. Sitting on the edge, he waited in silence.

  Stupid, he thought. For some reason, he imagined just the simple act of finally entering this room would somehow restore his sight.

  But this room hadn’t had anything to do with his sight sporadically returning over the last few weeks. That came down to one person. Anthea Cane. Just being with her—not even that, just the mere thought of her—drowned out all the other crap in his life. When he was with her, when he thought of her, nothing else existed. He was no longer the poor little boy who witnessed his parents’ murder-suicide. He was no longer the blind guy the town took pity on. All of that went away when he was with Anthea. All of that hurt and pain was replaced with…with hope.

  He shook his head. He couldn’t live his life fantasizing about her in order to get intermittent glimpses of the world.

  Disappointment shot through him. He’d had the ridiculous thought that if he regained his sight, he could go after Anthea, explain everything and win her back.

  But his world remained black.

  There was something else blocking him, something deep that he couldn’t quite access. He wanted to see, but he was afraid. And if that fear wasn’t coming from the memory of that day, he had no idea where it was coming from.

  What he did know was that just wishing to see wasn’t going to cut it. He needed to confront that fear, but first he had to know what it was. On the positive side, he no longer had any reason to put it off. And every reason to face it.

  He rose, walked from the room and left the door open behind him. In the kitchen, he grabbed the phone and punched in speed dial one.

  “Cole?” Karin answered, a slight hesitation in her voice. “Is everything all right?”

  “Yeah,” he lied. “I just… I think it’s time I took you up on that offer.”

  “Are you talking about—”

  “Yeah, I am.”

  Late that afternoon he sat in Karin’s car, traveling toward Redmond, a large town two hours away. She’d managed to get him into a specialist at a moment’s notice, mostly, she told him, because he was such an unusual case.

  “Why on earth didn’t you tell me your sight was returning earlier?�
� she asked.

  “The first time, I thought it was just a one-off thing. But then, when it happened again and again, I knew why, and I didn’t want to leave while the cause was still in my home.”

  She was silent for a long moment before she finally spoke. “I’m so sorry, Cole. It was me. I told her the truth. I thought she already knew, but I shouldn’t have—”

  “Karin. It’s not your fault.”

  “You’re not mad at me?”

  “How can I be when it’s all my doing? I promised you I’d tell her. And you know I always keep my word, but this time… I’m the one who’s sorry,” he said, speaking the absolute truth. “I never should’ve put you in that position in the first place.”

  “Well, you were right. I’m just as much to blame. Not only didn’t I try to talk you out of your little plan, I encouraged it. Hardly the professional behavior of a doctor, right?”

  He smiled weakly. “Funny how things start out one way and turn into something you never expected.”

  “Actually, I have a confession to make. Before you even conceived your plan, I had one of my own. I told Anthea you were the only farmer who might be able to help with her research, as long as you didn’t know who she was. I thought… I had this feeling that you might be good for one another.”

  Cole grinned, shook his head. “I’d more than suspected. But you put on a good act. That comment about Anthea being irresponsible after she helped save Meg’s life really got me riled up.”

  “You were being so close-lipped about your feelings for her, that’s why I said it. It was the only thing I could think of to see if you really had fallen for her. The way you reacted… well, that told me all I needed to know.”

  “Pretty damn sneaky,” he said.

  Once again, Karin remained silent for a few minutes. Finally, she said, “Cole, are you sure about this? It won’t be easy. You’ll have to talk about…what happened.”

  “I know. But I have to do something. If I can see again, then maybe I can find…” His throat closed a little.

  “Her?”