Big Apple Dreams
Page 16
“Oh, you do it all the time,” he scoffed. “Running around on stage, kissing other guys for your pretend job as an actress.”
“Okay, so now I can be an actress?” I demanded, folding my arms and stepping towards him.
“Don’t even complain about that,” he warned, stepping to the side and walking behind me as he loosened his tie.
“What is so bad about being an actress?”
“It’s not a real job! You’d be homeless and starving to death if it weren’t for your real job as a waitress. I’m not about to tell the premier citizens of the city that my girlfriend is a waitress! Thought it might explain why you were late!”
“I had a once in a lifetime audition opportunity,” I screamed. “I couldn’t pass it up!”
“I can’t do this anymore,” he said gruffly. “I’m tired of you continually picking that stupid dream over me.”
“What are you talking about?” I asked in disbelief.
“You can’t come over because you have class. You can’t go on a date because you have an audition. You’re late to the biggest night of my life because you couldn’t pass up one stupid audition! You make me look bad because you’re upset I don’t want to share your failing pursuit with my customers!”
His voice rose with each example while he stepped towards me, stopping when he was right up in my face.
“I’m done,” he continued. “You have to choose. Me or acting.”
I looked at him, still in shock, the air around us sparking with the anger coming from the both of us.
“Me,” I snarled, leaning towards him until he backed up. “I choose me! I choose the dream that I came here to pursue! I choose the classes and the auditions!”
He looked at me for a moment, uncontrolled fury on his face. Hostile silence grew between us as I waited for his response.
“You are so stupid, Mara,” he said calmly, fixing his tie as I stood there, shaking in anger. “You think you can still be an actress? Look at all of your failed auditions. No one wants you. You could have had everything you ever wanted. I would have gladly given it to you. But now all you’re going to have is a job as a waitress and a dream that will never come true.”
He walked past me, heading back inside without even looking my way.
“We’re done,” he said as he went through the door, slamming it behind him.
I stood there, looking at the ground for a moment longer before I ripped the necklace from my throat, screaming. I threw it to the ground, picking up my skirt, and kicking the trinket into the gutter next to me. The earrings came next, followed by the bracelet.
Angry tears fell onto my face as I ran down the side street and into the subway station on the corner. I did my best to keep it under control as I rode back to my apartment, ignoring the looks everyone was giving me. My silent battle over what he’d said to me waged in my mind.
I wish I would have punched him right in the face, and then kicked him while he was on the ground, I thought bitterly. How did I stay with that jerk for so long?
My stop came up and I got off calmly, holding myself together until I finally opened my front door and went inside.
I turned around and leaned on it, my forehead welcoming the coolness of the wood. Unable to hold it in any more, I started crying again. There were angry tears over how I’d been treated, but hurt tears mixed in as well.
What if he’s right? What if I literally just lost everything I had going for me?
“Mara?”
I turned around in shock, not knowing anyone was in the apartment with me. My heart practically stopped beating when I saw who it was.
“Evan?”
Chapter Twenty
“What are you doing here?” I sputtered, wiping my eyes hastily.
“I came to see Lizzy,” he said haltingly. He looked as if he might take a step forward but then decided against it. “Are you okay?”
“Like you care,” I said, hurt layered on thick in my tone.
“What are you talking about?” he asked in surprise.
“Just leave me alone,” I said bitterly, picking up my skirt and heading for the bathroom.
“Mara, no,” he said, moving to block my path. “What’s going on? What happened that’s upset you so much?”
“Chris and I had a fight,” I said shortly.
“Do you want to tell me about it?”
“No,” cried harshly. “No, I don’t. If you can’t care enough to tell me you were leaving yourself, or to tell me goodbye, or to even talk to me at all, then you don’t get to know about this!”
I shoved past him and went into the bathroom, locking the door behind me before he could get in.
“Mara, don’t do that,” he sighed.
“Why are you even here?” I asked again. “You talk to Lizzy all the time. You know she’s at work, and then going out for the night.”
“I didn’t know that,” he said, an angry edge to his voice. “I have the week off and wanted to come see my sister. And you.”
I looked at myself in the mirror, my mascara running under my eyes a little and my hair having lost its bounce. And in that moment, I didn’t care one bit. I didn’t care that the man I loved and lost was standing on the other side of the door. I didn’t care that I’d just been screamed at by a man who spent the evening telling everyone within hearing distance that he loved me. I didn’t care that I’d had the best audition of my life hours before. I only cared that I was angry and needed some way to let it out.
I flung the door open and pushed a very surprised Evan back with my hand, bearing down on him like a bull seeing red.
“You came here to see me? You couldn’t care less about me! You’ve avoided me, ignored me, left me, hurt me—” I kept going on and on, unable to hold back all of the emotions that he’d put me through.
And he just stood there taking it, a sad look in his eyes. All I could think about was how angry I was that he still looked as good as ever in his all black clothing. I should have been kissing him and telling him how much I loved him, instead of having to put up with his lies.
“And to top it all off, you made me want to leave Chris,” I said, my fury growing stronger. “Chris, who never did anything to me until tonight.”
“What?” he asked in shock, practically falling over at my last statement.
“It’s true,” I said softly, my anger suddenly deflating as it was replaced by the horrible realization of what I’d just said.
“I made you . . . not want to be with him?” he asked hesitantly.
“Yes,” I said, deciding to just go with it and let everything out finally.
“You wanted me?” he asked again.
“Yes,” I said exasperated. “I wanted someone who wasn’t my boyfriend. There, does that clear it up enough for you?”
He looked at me for a minute, his mouth opening and closing as he searched for what he wanted to say.
“I’m . . . sorry,” he finally said.
“Oh.” My heart felt like it had been punched. I’d half expected him to return the feelings.
I guess I was wrong.
“Not for all that,” he said, hesitant again. “But for what I’m about to do.”
He stepped toward me quickly, grabbing my waist and pulling me against his body. I could feel the rapid beating of his heart as he placed my hands on his chest and leaned in, lips hovering just over mine.
“Forgive me,” he said softly.
His mouth crushed against mine as he released my hands and wrapped an arm around my waist. His other hand brushed over the neckline of my dress and onto my shoulder before entangling into my hair.
I didn’t exactly know what was happening, only that I didn’t want it to ever stop. My heart sang to be touched by him, to feel his breath mixing with my own.
I fisted my hands in his shirt, pulling him closer to me, if that was even possible. I wanted to know every part of him, to kiss his lips, and call him mine forever.
His hand left my hair and
reached down, picking me up and cradling me in his embrace as he carried me across the room. He stopped at the end of my bed, which had been left down in the day’s excitement.
He set me down, his lips breaking away from mine as he looked into my eyes, a desperation in his own.
I stood on my tiptoes and wrapped my arms around his neck, bringing our lips together softly. His hands slid up from my waist, finding the zipper of my dress and slowly pulling it down.
“Mara,” he said, pulling away some.
“It’s okay, I promise,” I said, hating the uncertainty I saw on his face. “We can stop if you want to.”
His hand brushed against my face, and I leaned into it, turning to kiss his fingers. They trembled slightly, from what I didn’t know. I just wanted him to know that everything was okay.
I knew when he decided what to do because his other hand slipped inside the back of my dress, fingers brushing over my skin. He kissed me, again, with renewed strength, pushing me back until I was sitting on the bed.
He released me for a second then, pulling his own shirt over his head and throwing it onto the floor.
I had never seen anything so perfect. It wasn’t just that he was fit and about to do something with me I’d never done before. It was seeing him this way and knowing that I loved him so much. I felt like I might explode from the joy of finally finding out he felt the same way about me.
He put his hand on my shoulder, and I leaned back, scooting up further onto the bed until I’d left my dress to fall to the floor. I felt another thrill of excitement as he climbed on top of me, resting his body against the length of my own.
As his lips met mine once more, I laughed on the inside. How quickly I’d gone from being so hurt and angry to perfectly happy and content.
All I ever needed was here in Evan. I loved him, and now we were together. And in that moment, I never wanted to leave his side.
Chapter Twenty One
I snuggled deeper under the covers, my eyes still closed as I remembered the events that had transpired the night before. It was if I could still feel Evan’s lips brushing over my skin, his fingers intertwining with my own. My skin prickled at the memory of his warm breath washing over me, his skin seeming to melt into my own as we laid together.
It had been more wonderful than anything I could ever imagine. The desire to stay in bed for the rest of forever just thinking about it sounded good to me. I wanted more than that, though—I wanted to have this feeling renewed every day for the rest of my life.
Opening slowly in the darkness, my eyes sought out the clock. It was only three in the morning, practically the middle of the night.
I sighed, rolling over to cuddle back into the arms of my one and only.
His side of the bed was empty.
Panic seized my chest and I bolted up, holding the blankets around my naked body.
“Evan?”
Only the frantic pounding of my heart answered.
I slid to the edge of the bed, my toes curling into the fabric of my dress, still lying where it fell. Bending at the waist, I reached my hand out, feeling for his shirt he’d let fall to the floor. It was missing, as well.
“Evan?” I called again, standing up and walking towards the door to turn on the lights.
He couldn’t have left. Why would he do that to me, after all we shared?
My fingers felt around the massive amounts of roses that still sat on the desk next to the door, trying to find the switch on the wall behind them. Finally, the lights clicked on and I turned around to look at the scene in front of me.
Evan was definitely not here. As I’d guessed, his shirt was gone from the foot of the bed, as well as his pants that had been thrown on the couch. Only my underwear was still where I’d left it.
Angry and hurt tears formed in my eyes, falling silently as I stood there, looking at the image my broken heart would forever remember. Eventually, it all became a big blurry mess.
I stumbled back towards the bed, knocking a few vases over along the way, and threw the blankets back onto the mattress.
Lizzy still wasn’t home, a fact I was supremely grateful for. Somewhere in the back of my mind, a voice told me I need to straighten a few things up and make it look like nothing had happened while she was gone.
Wiping my eyes, I walked around the room and picked up my clothes, hanging the dress up and throwing the bra and panties into the laundry basket. I picked up the vases I’d knocked over, cleaning up the glass from one that had broken.
Finally, I cleaned myself up, washing the invisible turmoil off me the best I could.
My life is becoming one big secret that I’m forced to keep from everyone I know, I thought as I got dressed in pajamas.
My bed remained the only thing to be put back together, so I pulled the blankets from it again, moving to the head to fluff the pillows.
As I picked up the one I usually cuddled with, I felt something tucked in the backside, inside the cover. Reaching in to see what it was, I discovered a folded up piece of paper that had never been there before.
I tossed the pillow back into its spot and sat down on the edge of the bed, unfolding the curious note as I did so. My heart caught slightly as I realized it was a note from Evan.
Mara~
I am so sorry for what I did to you. It was wrong and I know it. You have to believe me when I say that I never meant for it to happen, I swear. I promise it will never, ever happen again either.
I’m sorry for leaving without waking you. Please, know that I didn’t want to hurt you. I’ll keep in touch with Liz, but I think it would be best if you and I didn’t talk for a while.
I am so sorry. Please forgive me, if you can.
Evan
I crumpled the note in my hand, the tears returning. Quickly, I smoothed it back out and read through it a few more times.
He doesn’t even want to talk to me.
I collapsed back onto the bed, letting the note fall to the floor, and curled up into a ball, letting the emotions overtake me. The most wonderful night of my life had become the most terrible in a matter of minutes. While I was thankful he left me anything at all, I was still furious that he’d run off on me.
It felt like I’d become the characteristic story every parent tells their daughter. Boys only want one thing and when they get it, well . . .
The sound of a key sliding into the lock caught my attention and I quickly picked the covers up off the floor and flung them over myself, wiping my eyes with the corners.
“Oh, hey, Mara,” Lizzy yawned as she came in. “I didn’t think you’d still be up.”
“I’m having trouble sleeping,” I said, trying to keep my voice even and get it together.
“How did the audition go?”
She dropped her stuff by the door like usual and stumbled over my bed, lying down next to me.
“It was really good,” I said, trying to discretely wipe my face once again.
Lizzy immediately caught on that something was wrong, though.
“What’s wrong?” she rushed, sitting up and becoming absolutely awake.
“Nothing,” I lied. “I’m just being over emotional about some stupid stuff.”
“Stupid stuff doesn’t make people cry like you were,” she said seriously. “I can see how puffy your eyes are. Something is really wrong. Why don’t you want to tell me?”
“It’s just stress,” I said, trying to get her to drop it.
“No, it’s not! Just tell me, so I can make you feel better.” She gave me a pouty face, reaching out and taking my hand.
“Chris and I . . . had a fight,” I said lamely.
“Oh sweetie! It’s going to be okay. You guys will figure it out, I’m sure.”
She launched into several different stories about couples who fought and got back together just fine after that. I was thankful she didn’t notice I’d only told a partial truth.
Why is it so hard to tell her that we broke up? It’s because then I’ll feel like I
have to tell her I came home and slept with her brother. Some friend I am.
She laid down next to me again as she spoke, obviously ready to go to sleep again.
“You know what’s funny?” she said dreamily.
“What?”
“This pillow smells like Evan’s cologne.”
I froze, not knowing what to say or if she would connect the two.
“I always liked that smell. Aiden kind of smells like that, too.”
“How was your date?” I asked, trying to steer her away from the topic.
“Absolutely wonderful,” she yawned. “Perfect in every way.”
Her words drifted further and further apart as she spoke, carrying her into unconsciousness. I breathed a sigh of relief when she finally fell completely silent and her breathing slowed to a restful state.
I didn’t want to wake her, so I did the only thing I could to escape the harsh reality my life was becoming—I slept.
My ringing phone buzzed from its spot in my purse, the generic tone seemingly loud enough to wake the dead.
Groggily, I sat up on the edge of the bed, trying to remember what had me feeling so down. It was then that I saw the crumpled paper on the floor.
I bit my lip, fighting back tears, and kicked it under the couch as I stood and crossed the room to the bag holding my phone.
“Hello?”
“Yes, may I speak to Mara Adams, please?”
The voice on the other line sounded vaguely familiar. I checked the time on the kitchen clock before I answered. It was after nine.
“This is she.”
“Oh good! This is Raquel from Wicked. Did I catch you at a good time?”
“Yes!” I said, suddenly wide awake. “I’m sorry, I didn’t expect you to call until tomorrow at the earliest.”
“We came to our decision much faster than anticipated,” she laughed. “Do you have some time to talk about your audition, right now? If not, I can call back later.”
“I have plenty of time,” I said, nodding even though she couldn’t see me.
“Great!”