SOLO (17 page)

"I thought you did a great job."

The compliment is welcomed even if I can't instantly identify the source. "It's a great musical."

His brow cocks slightly. "I hope you don't feel it's better than Falling Choices?"

That's it. I remember now. He's the producer, Garry. "I love Falling Choices." I do. I've been waiting to hear back after my audition. I had to stop checking my phone every few minutes waiting for a call because it was too distracting.

"I tried calling you several times earlier today but it kept going to voicemail." He pushes his hands into the pockets of his pants. "I know opening days are killer."

I didn't answer because my phone is on the bed in the fuck pad of a man I thought I was falling in love with. "It's been a crazy day." That's an understatement.

"This is very unusual for me." He shuffles his feet against the tile floor. "I wouldn’t normally come to an opening night to deliver this news but I had tickets to the show."

News? I fist my skirt in my palms to stop from throwing my arms in the air. He wouldn't come backstage to tell me that I don't have a part. That's not the way it works. He wouldn't have tried calling me all day if he was going to tell me that I didn't measure up. This is it. Please let him say what I want him to say. "What news?" I'm shocked by how calm that sounded coming out of my mouth.

"We think you're perfect for the part of Megan."

It's the lead. The part I wanted. The part I love. "You do?"

His voice lowers. "I realize this is highly unusual but we'd need you to come on board right away. Rehearsals start in two weeks."

"I'll be there." I force a smile through a crowd of mixed emotions. "Just tell me when and where and I'll be there."

***

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you about her." His voice carries over the music in the club.

I thought I could escape this tonight. I thought I'd have time to rejoice in the success of our opening night with my cast mates. Early reviews are good and although they are raising their glasses of wine and mugs of beer in toasts to Selfish Fate, I'm quietly celebrating my own future with the touring company of Falling Choices. I'm moving on. I'm taking on a role that will pull me away from Manhattan, from Alec and from what could have been.

"Libby." His hand is on my arm. "I need to talk to you."

I don't care what he needs. I want him to go away and take all the lies with him. "I don't want to."

"Look at me, please." His voice cracks. "This is important."

I spin around, instantly regretting my choice in wardrobe when his eyes fall to my breasts. The dress I'm wearing is revealing. It's meant to grab the attention of anyone who can help me forget Alec. Now, that I'm standing in front of him, I feel as though I'm bare. Every part of me feels exposed. I pull my hands over my chest. "What do you want?"

"I know you're upset with me." He holds up his hand, my smartphone resting in his palm. "I know what the doorman told you."

The doorman? The small detail about Alec not living at the condo seems insignificant now. It's only a small piece of the puzzle. The speech about the musical being a gift for his fiancé is ripping me into shreds. 

"Thanks for bringing my phone." I reach to pull it from his hand. "I'm going to party with my friends now."

"You're not going to let me explain this at all?" He pushes his hands into the pockets of his pants. "I want to try and explain."

I trace my index finger over my chin in a thoughtless gesture. "You're engaged, Alec. What could we possibly have to talk about?"

"It's not as simple as that." He leans against the bar. "It's very complicated, Libby."

"I don't know what's complicated about it." I pause. "You have a fiancé who is apparently fine with you being a fucked up cheating asshole. I didn’t ask to be part of that and I'm not going to be again."

He bows his head as if the words have pierced his skin and he's trying to absorb the sting. "She doesn't know I sleep with other women, Libby."

That's impossible. There's absolutely no way any woman who lives in this city is oblivious to what Alec Hughes does. It's not a secret. He's been photographed with dozens of different women. The rumors are always just a step behind him. He's overt when he comes on to women. I've been witness to that myself. "There's no way in hell she doesn’t know what you're doing behind her back."

He leans forward, one of his hands moving to rest on the edge of the bar. "She doesn't know, Libby. She can't know. She's been in a vegetative state for the past five years."

Alec

When you give voice to something as fucked up as this, it gives it merit. It's not that it makes it seem more real. It's always been real but now as I wait for the elevator that is bringing Libby up to my place, I feel a pang of something that I can't place. Regret is always there, so that's not it. It might be sadness. It feels more like hope though.

"Hi." Her voice is soft and tentative the moment the elevator opens.

I want to reach out and embrace her. She looks misplaced and nervous standing at the entry to my home. This is my home. It's the home I come to every night. It's the place I've lived for the past six years. "I'm glad you came."

She nods while her eyes search the room behind me. "Are her parents here?"

It's a valid question. I didn't have the emotional energy to explain to Libby too much last night but I had filled her in on why I needed to wait until this morning to have her come by. I needed the window of time to move Margaret and David to a hotel. The discussion wasn't pleasant. Margaret had cried and blamed and essentially called me a piece of shit in her fake English accent. I saw the pain she was in. She knows that I'm moving on and it's a reminder of what we all lost that Friday morning so long ago.

I motion for Libby to take off her sweater and hand me her purse. "They left an hour ago." I set her things down on a table.

She pulls in a breath, her hand jumping to her stomach. "I'm not sure why I came."

I'm sure of why she did. The pull that I've felt for weeks now is there within her too. I saw it last night when she looked in my eyes after I told her about Natasha. I saw the relief. "I'm glad you did. I'd like to sit so we can talk."

She follows me to a corner where a soft bench sits facing one of the windows that overlooks the city. I motion for her to sit first. I want her to be comfortable. I want her to understand that this is just as much about her as it is about me. I'm baring everything to her today. I haven't spoken about that day in years. I've pushed it into a place where no one sees the pain it's caused. I've hidden it behind the cocky, aggressive attitude that gets me through my life.

"This view is beautiful." She lowers herself to the bench resting her back against the soft fabric.

I sit next to her. I want to pull her into me and hold her while I tenderly confess all my sins. I want her to see the truth within the words and I want her to understand my need to honor a promise I made when it felt as though that was my only choice.

"Alec?" Her hand drifts over the leg of my jeans. "I'm really nervous."

I scoop her hand into mine grateful for the contact. I'm even more thankful when she doesn't pull it away. "I'm nervous too, Libby. I'm really nervous."

She looks at me expectantly.

"I guess I need to start at the beginning." I lean back and cross my legs. As I do she pulls her hand free. I stare at it, hungry for the touch I just had. "I fell in love with Natasha in college. We dated for a couple of years and after graduation she moved to New York."

"She moved into this apartment with you?"

"We didn’t live here at first." I swallow trying to clear the heavy lump in my throat. "I had a smaller place. We lived there together."

"When did you move here?" She points to the window.

"Not long before it happened."

"You said it was five years ago?" She shifts her feet on the floor. "That's a long time ago."

It feels much longer if I'm being honest with myself, which is something I haven't been since then. "Just over five years now."

"Do you want to talk about that day?" She's uncomfortable and there's no way I can blame her for that. I've pulled her into something that she has no reason to be in. I'm doing it to assuage my own sense of guilt over hurting her. I knew there was something special about her the day I met her in the elevator. When I felt myself falling for her, I should have stopped then. I should have sat her down and explained all of this before things spiraled so far out of control.

"We were staying at a house that my parents own in the Poconos." I pull my hands together. "Natasha had never been but she wanted me to take her there when I proposed."

Her eyes widen. "It's a romantic place."

Those were Natasha's exact words when we talked about getting engaged. She had orchestrated the entire thing. She was a perfectionist and I wanted to gift her with the proposal of her dreams. We shopped for months for the perfect ring before deciding to have one custom made. We talked endlessly about where and when I should pop the question and it was Natasha's idea to do it in the house in the Poconos on my twenty-fifth birthday.

"It was romantic," I acquiesce. "The day after the proposal is when the accident happened. That's the day I lost Natasha."

Libby

"If it's too hard we don't have to do this right now." I reach up to take the bottle of water he brought for me. I had asked him for something to drink after he talked about the proposal. It wasn't that it stung. It just sucked something out of me. I felt parched and weak but most of all I felt smothered.  I still feel that. Listening to Alec talk about the woman he loved, or maybe still loves, is making me aware of how deep my feelings for him actually are.

He lowers himself down onto the bench again. "It's important for us to do this."

"Then I'm listening."

"I had just taken over my father's business back then." He sighs before he starts talking again. "I was young and very hungry so it consumed me. I spent hours at the office chasing his approval. I wanted to do everything exactly the way he would."

"I understand." They're not empty words. I do understand. I felt that same need to please each time I stepped foot into my father's offices.

A weak smile pulls at the corner of his lips. "It's the same for you with your dad."

I nod, not wanting this to turn into a conversation about our mutual feelings of failure in the eyes of our fathers. "You took a break from work to go to the house in the Poconos?"

His eyes level back on my face. "I did. Natasha wanted to get engaged then so I took a few days away but I was still on the clock. I was working even when I should have been focused on her. She wanted to talk about the wedding. She was excited to make plans."

I hear the pain in his voice. I see it in the way he's resting his head in his hands. "What happened that day?"

"She wanted to go on a hike. I'm not that guy. I don't go outdoors just for the sake of being outdoors. "

I smile at the confession.

He straightens his back and sits up. "She got angry that I was making calls and said she was going on her own. I didn't stop her. I didn't even say goodbye to her. I just waved a hand after the door slammed shut."

I watch in silence as his hand moves towards me stopping mid-way between the two of us on the bench. I reach for it. He needs this. I need it before I hear the next words that come out of his mouth.

"It got to be late. I didn't realize for hours that she hadn't come back. "He turns to look directly at me now. "I called the police and anyone I could think of at that point."

"Did it take long to find her?"

"No." His voice sounds distant even though he's sitting right next to me. "Another hiker found her. She'd fallen and hit her head. There was blood. She never woke up again."

I bite my lip to ward off the tears when I see his lips quiver. "I'm so sorry."

"I had her brought back here." He lifts his chin toward the window. "To New York. I knew she'd have the best care here but there's nothing. She's never been the same."

"They've never been able to help her?" I ask, knowing that it's only reiterating what he just said. He's rich. His family is very wealthy. They must have used every resource available to try and help her.

"She isn't there anymore." His voice is soft as his hand sweeps over his body. "Her eyes open but she's not in there."

I don’t say anything because I don't know where I'd find the words. I can't imagine the emotional torture that he's been living with. Loving someone whose body is there, whose face you can see but whose spirit has been taken away.

His mouth tightens into a thin line. "I've fought with her parents for years over her care. Natasha and I never spoke about what ifs. I couldn’t make a decision I didn't feel was what she wanted so she's been living here, for all this time."