I close my eyes and try to stop thinking. I bury my thoughts in my character, and it works for a while, but when I go to sleep, I’m thinking about Aidan.
The play runs for two hours and thirty minutes. When the final curtain comes down, there’s a moment of silence, a silence so deep that it’s possible to hear a pin drop, then the audience erupts in thunderous applause.
The curtain comes up again and Aidan joins us on stage. He sweeps me up in his arms and kisses me deeply.
Like he doesn’t care who is watching.
I don’t care either.
“You were spectacular,” he exclaims, holding on to me as we walk to the front of the stage with the rest of the cast. We bow amidst the applause and a few people throw flowers. We stand there waving for a few minutes before the curtain comes down for the final time and we go backstage.
People are hugging each other and laughing. It’s pandemonium. All the people with a backstage pass, eager to chat, to congratulate me, to ask me questions. I find Aidan’s eyes in the crowd and when he sees how tired I am, he comes to my side, helping me shut down most of the conversations.
After the last of the critics and fans and investors have gone on to the after party, I go to my dressing room to change. I wonder what I’ll do now, after I leave the play. I don’t think I’ll work. I’d like to travel. I could go to France or Switzerland and work on my French.
Without Aidan.
Without him, nothing seems attractive.
There are flowers on all the surfaces in my room. On my dressing mirror a huge bouquet of white lilies occupies center space. From Aidan.
I touch a soft petal and sigh at the velvety texture.
There’s a knock on my door. I open it expecting Aidan, but it’s Lucy, my recently hired assistant for the production.
“Your car is here to take you to the party,” she informs me.
When I get to the ballroom at the Concord, the venue for the party, a cheer erupts in the crowd, I return the smiles, wondering where Aidan is. He enters the room a few moments behind me and when I turn around our gazes meet.
I love him so much.
He smiles at me, making something ache in my chest, then comes over to kiss me again. Lots of pictures and toasts follow, and I drink so much champagne I stop feeling tired.
After a while, the reviews start to come in, and as Aidan predicted, they are overwhelmingly positive. Each new one that goes online cause a cheer to go through the room. It’s beautiful.
A few hours into the party, Aidan comes up behind me and I turn to face him. “Congratulations,” I tell him.
He pulls me close. “It was all you.”
“You know that’s not true.”
“Are we going to dodge each other’s compliments all night or are we going to get out of here, together?”
I place my hand in his. “Let’s go.”
We sneak out of the hotel through a side entrance. Aidan gives me his coat and we walk along the sidewalk. I let my hair fall into my face and it works. Nobody recognizes me.
At my apartment, there are no paparazzi, they’re all waiting at the hotel thinking I’m still at the party.
We enter the building, kissing. In my apartment, I offer him a drink, watching as he unbuttons his dress shirt and undoes his cuffs before taking a sip. I drink mine, still watching him.
“What are you looking at?” he asks, after a while.
“You. Every sexy inch of you.”
He takes my drink from me and sets it on a table along with his. “Come here.”
I walk into his arms. He runs his hands over my shoulders and arms, then turns me around and removes my jewelry before undoing the zipper of my dress. His fingers graze my back and I tremble.