Love's Final Act (Circus of Love Romances Book 3)

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Love's Final Act (Circus of Love Romances Book 3) Page 16

by S. Andrea Milne


  Text seemed to be the kindest way to unload my burden on her. It would give her the opportunity to collect herself and figure out what to say once we talked. It was not; however, reassuring when her return message came a few minutes later.

  Are you sure you don’t want to text with Becca about this?

  Fresh tears tracked down the corners of my cheeks as I sunk deeper into the bed, pulling the comforter right up to my armpits. I didn’t want to talk to anyone. I didn’t want to have to inform my high school friends, who’d travelled halfway across the country during the holidays, that their trip had been for nothing. At least they’d both gotten a couple of nights of good sex out of the deal. Hopefully that would soften their disappointment in having no wedding to attend.

  I used the bed sheets to wipe my eyes, by which time Rachel had sent another text.

  Sorry. I didn’t mean to offend you, Beth, I’m not sure what to say. I’ll do my best, of course. Whatever you need. Would you prefer to call or come over?

  I attempted to take a deep breath, but as I inhaled my lungs stuttered, doing little to calm my frayed nerves. On the second attempt my muscles loosened ever so slightly. I took another hearty swipe at my eyes then replied: I’ll call in a couple of minutes, I wanted to give you a heads up first.

  Ok. Becca messaged back. I’ll find a place where Becca won’t overhear.

  I sat myself higher up in the bed, then used my fingers to comb my hair back and out of my eyes. Ugh. The bed was littered with used Kleenexes. The nearest garbage can required me to get out of bed, so I bundled them up as best I could and mounded them together on my bedside table. I’d take care of them later, when getting out from the sheets was unavoidable. Would it be the need to eat or pee first? I grabbed a couple of extra pillows and shoved them behind my back for support before relocating my phone in the crumpled comforter. After another round of deep breathing, ensuring I was as calm as possible, I dialed Rachel’s number.

  It rang five times before she picked up.

  “Hi, Beth, sorry. I’m hiding out in the guest bedroom. I’m not sure how long it’ll be before Becca decides to come check on me.”

  I nodded, even through Rachel couldn’t see me. “That’s okay. Obviously, she’ll find out soon enough, I just…” What did I even want from Rachel? Couldn’t I talk to Miranda or Lisa about this? They too would have to be informed soon, since everyone was due over at the Nicks’ mid-afternoon. After years of separation and uncertainty, I didn’t know if I could confide in them the way I might have seven or eight years ago. Somehow, Rachel felt like the only one I could handle talking to.

  “You need a calm voice for a few minutes?” Rachel filled in the silence.

  “Yeah.” I pulled my phone away from my ear for a moment to check the time. A little after ten. Thank God we’d kept things small. “I’m not looking for advice or anything. I just need help to start—stop—getting things moving, telling your parents and Becca, stopping all the set-up and everything.”

  “Of course.” I could imagine Rachel’s solemn expression as she steeled herself for a day of busy-work entirely different from what she’d been expecting. “What is R—what is, he, doing right now?”

  I didn’t fall to pieces at the reference to Robert, although I did grab a tissue and wipe my eyes. “It’s okay, Rachel, it’s okay. I…we…we aren’t necessarily breaking up. We’re just not getting married today.”

  Rachel made a noncommittal noise at the back of her throat but didn’t say anything.

  “Robert’s gone to talk to his parents—he took his cousin, Xander, with him. He said he’d take care of contacting the JP, and the band, and his gymnastics buddies. I have no idea when he’ll be back—if he’ll be back today. He thought he’d need to spend some time with his parents before he could get away. They, they…were very kind to me.”

  “Do your parents—?”

  “No. They don’t know—I never told them I was getting married in the first place. They’d have a field day if they found out the wedding had fallen apart. I still need to tell my high school friends—does anyone know if Angel and Jackson made it in? They need to be told, too, but beyond that, there aren’t any others I can think of.”

  “O-kay.” It sounded like Rachel was assembling mental lists of what she needed to do. “Once we’re done talking, I’ll tell Mom, she’ll put a halt to anything she’s working on, and she’ll talk to Dad. I’ll tell Becca after that—she’s going to have a fit—then go back to helping Mom with whatever clean up that needs doing. I haven’t heard from Angel and Jackson, I expect that got held up by the storm, too. Do you want me to text Angel, at least find out where they’re at?”

  “No, I’ll text Angel. This isn’t your bad news to deal with.” I added one more set of messages to my To Do list. Robert had said since it was his decision, he would handle the official cancellations, he’d said it was the least he could do. Yeah. Definitely the least.

  Rachel continued. “Do you want to be alone, or do you want to come over? Whatever you want is fine, of course—and you don’t have to tell me right now, you can text me later. Your friends can come over too if they want. We have a ton of food in the fridge.”

  Shit. That ton of food was thanks to my anticipated nuptials. I couldn’t remember if I’d already paid Dehlia for it. Would she take money from me if I hadn’t? Probably not. “Thanks, Rachel. I’ll text you about coming over. I’m not sure yet whether I want solitude or distraction.”

  “Okay. Whatever you decide is absolutely fine.”

  “Thanks. Bye.” I hung up but continued to stare at my phone afterward. We’d talked for about five minutes and it had focused almost entirely on what needed doing. There’d been one small mention of Robert, then we’d kept going. One hard conversation down, the next was Miranda and Lisa.

  My text to Miranda was to check if she and Lisa were together, and both awake. I didn’t want to have to tell them separately if I didn’t have to. Once I received confirmation that they were available, I called.

  “What?”

  I jerked my hand away from my ear as Miranda screeched into the phone.

  “This isn’t because of that crazy bitch at dinner the other night?”

  I sighed. “No. Well—not because of the scene Emily created, but I guess, sort of.” Robert had said it wasn’t because of Simon that he wanted call things off, he said the audition with Cirque Celestial was part of it, but I couldn’t help but think it was a very small part of it.

  The phone call with my high school friends lasted considerably longer than the one with Rachel, and it focused almost entirely on how badly I’d been treated by the men in my life. I couldn’t quite agree with Miranda, who was the chief speaker in this conversation, but she was fired up on my behalf, much like how Becca would have been if I’d chosen to confide in her. I let her go on for longer than strictly necessary. Something about the pleasure of hearing someone else defend my honour in the case, but I didn’t, no couldn’t—as devastated as I was—think that Robert’s decision was unfounded.

  I had kissed another man the week of our wedding, twice. The first time I most definitely hadn’t kissed Simon back, but it had happened. I tried to put myself in Robert’s shoes. How would I react if I’d caught him lip-locked with an old flame of his? Or if that old flame had professed being in love with him? I’d told Robert everything that had happened rather than try to cover it up, but it still looked bad, no matter what the emotions were behind the kiss. If I were Robert, I would wonder if it really was a ‘mistake’, or whether it meant some thing else. I’d be jealous.

  Never mind that the kisses weren’t the only thing clouding the air. If I was offered a contract with Cirque Celestial, I would be off zigzagging across the country, maybe the whole world, performing. For how long? Bare minimum twelve months, but if I enjoyed it—loved it even—it could be years, and Robert didn’t want to live out of a suitcase anymore. I thought we’d settling this question, but obviously it was still an issue for Robert
. It would be hard to maintain such a distant and unpredictable relationship.

  On top of all that, I was nearly ten years his junior. We’d known each other for so short a time. Perhaps we were simply at different stages in our lives and this marriage was doomed to failure no matter what I tried to tell myself.

  ∞∞∞

  I ended up at the Nicks’ that afternoon. I’d heard nothing from Robert—not that I expected I would—and being in our apartment, surrounded by our stuff made me weepy. Miranda and Lisa readily agreed to drive me over, during which the former continued her monologue on how abominably I’d been treated. Lisa mostly nodded along and gave me sad looks.

  “Beth.” Becca flung herself on me the moment I walked through the front door. “How awful. I can’t believe McAllister would do this to you.”

  I tried to relax within Becca’s grip, but didn’t hug back. I couldn’t, my arms were pinned to my sides. “Becca—”

  “The morning of your wedding, too.” The girl continued, easing up on her embrace enough so I could squirm loose. “Is he heartless? He must be. No heart whatsoever. You should have let Irena have him back when you were in the circus, it would have saved you this pain.”

  Rachel joined us in the front hall as her sister delivered her speech, fulfilling the hosting duties Becca forgot in her excitement, such as offering to hang our coats in the front hall. “Let everyone in Becca, before you start roasting Robert.”

  “Oh, that’s okay,” Miranda said as she unzipped her jacket and reached into the closet for a hanger herself. “I’ve been saying pretty much the same things to Beth while we drove here.”

  I stopped, only half of the buttons on my wool coat unfastened. “Everyone listen, I appreciate how you’re all trying to vilify Robert on my behalf, I do, but I can’t blame him for his decision. I’m culpable for my part in this as much as he is. Let’s focus on something else for the rest of the afternoon. I want to forget about things for a while. Maybe we can watch a movie or something.”

  Rachel held a hanger out to me, ready to receive my coat. “Something with action, perhaps? Lots of fast cut scenes, where stuff blows up?”

  I smiled. “Sounds about right.”

  ∞∞∞

  When I got home, our car was in the driveway and a light could be seen in the living area above. Miranda halted on the street and offered to take me back to their hotel, but I refused. I needed to strap on my Big Girl Pants, and yet again have a serious conversation about the trajectory of our relationship.

  “Have a good night, girls,” I said as I took a moment to steel myself for seeing Robert for the first time since this morning. We should have been husband and wife by this point, but, well, we weren’t. “I’ll see you tomorrow for brunch before you head out.”

  “You too, Beth.” Miranda twisted in the driver’s seat to look at me, as if trying to decide if she should drive on and keep me captive for the night. “We’ll pick you up again in the morning.”

  I mustered a small smile. “Awesome, see you then.”

  Lisa also turned to face me. “Happy New Year, Beth.”

  A shock jolted through me. Right. New Year’s. I’d forgotten. We’d planned to get married on New Year’s Eve. Dance away the night and all that. “H-happy New Year.”

  I bit back the flood of apologies that rose to my lips. If I started to beg forgiveness for dragging them all this way, forcing them to forgo any New Year’s traditions that they might normally have indulged in, Miranda might kidnap me. Instead, I grabbed the door handle and flung it open before either of them could stop me. I sprang out of the car, slamming the door behind me with more energy than I’d intended, then half-walked, half-ran up the driveway toward the entrance to our apartment. After a dozen steps I slowed, twisted, and waved to my friends.

  Miranda idled the car at least until I disappeared inside the entrance to my apartment, but I didn’t check again once the door clattered closed behind me. Breathe. I closed my eyes and tried to prepare myself to see him without dissolving into a mess. I didn’t want to sob anymore today. At the bottom of the stairs I counted my breathing, and as I did, I could hear Robert shuffling about in the living space above.

  I was strong. I was independent. I didn’t need to be married to have a full life. We would move on and mend if we were meant to be, and if not, I would simply move on.

  I opened my eyes, and shook out my fingers, which I’d clenched tightly into fists. It was time. I kicked off my boots, placing them neatly against the wall, then climbed the stairs. Twelve in all, each one feeling a little steeper than the last. My heart rate was slightly elevated by the time I reached the top, then jumped a few notches higher when I turned and saw Robert standing in the middle of the living space. His shoulders were hunched forward, with his hands hanging limp at his sides. He was wearing his glasses, which he almost never did, a sure sign he was exhausted.

  Our gazes met briefly, then I pivoted away. I unfastened my coat, hung it on the stand, then took one, last, deep breath before facing my former-maybe-still-fiancé.

  “Hi,” I said as stepped farther into our apartment, closer to him.

  “Hi,” he said in return.

  “How are your parents?” I rounded the edge of the sectional and sat on the cushions farthest from Robert.

  “Okay.” He sat as well, somewhat in the middle, where he must have been sitting when I arrived. “My Mom was pretty upset, but I think they both understood in the end. I didn’t tell them about Simon, just about the audition and touring, and that we weren’t breaking up—”

  “Are we not?” I jumped on the opening, my heart pounding in my chest as the words tumbled out.

  Robert looked at me silently, like he was trying to memorize every one of my features. In the dim lamp light, and shaded by his glasses, his eyes appeared more grey than blue. The shadows underneath ran deep. He closed his eyes. “I don’t want to—that’s not what I intended when I said I didn’t want to get married today. I only meant, not today. Too much shit had happened too fast.”

  I kept my mouth shut. What was I supposed to say? I could almost—almost—agree. Even without Simon showing up and making a mess, the offer of an audition with Cirque Celestial still hung over us. Jake had arrived while I was at the Nicks’ this afternoon. Rachel was very careful to drag him off to some unseen part of the house before she—I assumed—displayed any signs of affection for her returning boyfriend. She didn’t have to, but I was somewhat relieved to not have to pretend to not watch as they happily reunited.

  Before we left for the evening, I informed Jake that he should expect me at the audition in January and asked for the necessary details. I’d better make sure my passport was up to date.

  “Xander’s staying with my parents tonight. We agreed it would be best.”

  I realized Robert was speaking.

  “Do you want to stay up? Do you want to talk more about our plans now? Or we could watch a movie maybe?” Robert’s focused drifted off toward the coffee table as he slowly twiddled his thumbs.

  “I saw Jake today, he finally got in after a night stuck at a service station. I told him I’d be at the audition.” The words tumbled out more abruptly than I’d meant them to, like I was afraid of admitting them to him.

  Robert nodded, although continued to look off in the distance. “Good. I’m glad. You’ll do great.”

  “Good. Great,” I said, echoing the distracted, far-off tone he had used. “I think I need to go to bed. This year can’t end soon enough.” I stood, looking across our apartment toward the bedroom. I wasn’t sure what time it was. Sometime after eight, but long, long before midnight. It didn’t matter. These last few weeks had been anything but restful, and I didn’t feel much like celebrating.

  Robert nodded a second time. “Okay. You go through the bathroom first. I’ll join you in bed soon…unless you’d rather I—”

  “It’s fine. We can sleep together. We’re not necessarily breaking up, right?” I didn’t mean my last words as a
dig, but they came out more harshly than I’d meant them.

  “Happy New Year, Beth.” Robert spoke quietly, only above a whisper. Something about his tone suggested what he really wanted to say was, I love you.

  “Happy New Year, Robert,” I said in return, although what I wished I’d said was, I love you, too, in return.

  ∞∞∞

  Our friends and family headed home, Dehlia gave us at least a dozen plastic containers full of food and refused to accept money for it. Life carried on. Robert and I continued to bump around our apartment for the first few weeks of January, not speaking much to each other, barely looking at each other. Conversation tended to be limited to safe topics like the weather, which was pretty depressing given it was winter and it felt like it snowed every other day to maximize my misery. If we touched each other it was entirely by accident. Bumping into one another while we tried to maneuver around in the kitchen or bathroom. Sex was completely out of the question—not that either of us asked.

  The duo routine we’d been planning for February was abandoned without discussion, which was fine by me. Hand-to-hand skills, it seemed, were my kryptonite, and I dropped all attempts to improve my handstands to focus on my silks technique. I had three weeks to prepare for the audition and if my wedding had been called off, in-part due to this opportunity, I might as well do everything I could to nail it.

  In addition to the extra training, I was busy teaching four nights a week once classes resumed at the studio. It meant having to do a lot of smiling and gritting my teeth in classes where Cass was enrolled.

  The first night back the cocky kid made some smug remark about my unmarried state and I had to cram my hands into the pockets of my hoodie, bunching the fabric in my fists to keep from slapping her. I tossed out some comment in return about our waiting for the outcome of Cirque Celestial audition, which shut her up, but wasn’t personally satisfying for me.

  Thanks to overworking myself, the short weeks I had before heading up to Canada disappeared. Originally Robert and I had intended to drive together, spend the weekend in Montreal and be back to Northboro late Sunday night. Since we now rarely spoke, I investigated rental car options, and booked the most inexpensive car available. I prayed for half-decent weather for driving, but given how my previous year wrapped up, I wasn’t going to hold my breath for clear roads and blue skies.

 

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