by Ann Major
“I had my own problems back then.”
The ancients and the wise say a man can learn the greatest truths of the universe in an instant. Suddenly, that was true for Zach. No sooner had he said those bitter words than his perspective shifted dramatically. All the pieces of the story he had imagined to be the truth about his love affair with Summer arranged themselves in a new and different order with a new and different meaning.
Had he been hurt and too bitter to consider what Summer had gone through? He had. And he hadn’t known the half of it. When she’d sought him out in Houston, how coldly he’d rejected her.
Just as he was rejecting her now.
All that had ever mattered was their love for each other. If they’d kept their focus on that, no one could have touched them.
The pain he felt was staggering. He’d hurt Summer terribly, more than Thurman ever had. Because he’d been stubbornly focused on his own grievances. And blind to hers.
The image of that single tear trickling down her beautiful face tugged at his heart. Why hadn’t he listened to his instinct and drawn her close and kissed her tears away?
“I’ve said my piece, so you can go now,” Viola said as she laid a gnarled hand on Silas, who purred in her lap.
For a long moment, Zach sat where he was, stunned. Without Summer beside him, he faced nothing but long years of emptiness. He would fill up his days with work, but the nights would be long and lonely. There would be no one to hold him in the darkness. No one to care about his failures or share his successes. He would be forever diminished without her love.
And he was throwing it all away.
“You have a plane to catch, don’t you?”
“Thank you for the cookies and tea,” he muttered mechanically, like someone in a dream.
He stared at the spot on the porch where he’d kissed Summer as a girl. She’d been so blushingly shy and lovely. When he’d kissed the woman in that same spot fifteen years later, she’d been hurt and defiant and in denial, but he’d seen into her heart and had fallen in love with her all over again.
He loved her.
He wasn’t going to stop loving her just because he willed himself to do so. His love for her was the truest and strongest part of him. By sending her and his child away, he faced the death of everything that would ever matter to him.
He had to make this right.
He needed Summer and their child.
Damn the press. Why hadn’t he seen that he should put her first, instead of his own damn ego? She’d carried his child and lost it while her mother had been gravely ill. The thought of her alone and pregnant again was excruciatingly unbearable. If anything happened to her or the baby because of his horrible cruelty, he would never forgive himself.
He had to take care of them. He had to find a way to protect them from the press instead of blaming Summer for the made-up headlines. And when he couldn’t protect them, he’d endure the media coverage…. If only Summer would forgive him and take him back.
Thirteen
It was raining outside the theater, pouring. Not that Summer cared.
Opening nights were all about families and friends. Thus, her dressing room and bathroom overflowed with vivid bouquets of flowers, embossed cards from the greats and the near-greats and telegrams, as well. Everybody she remotely cared about was packed inside these two tiny rooms with her. Everybody except Zach, the one person who mattered most.
As she waited for her place to be called, her grandmother and brother sat to her left on her long couch, while her dresser, hairdresser and agent sat to the right. It was a tight squeeze, but Summer needed their support desperately because Zach wasn’t here.
She still felt raw and shaken from their breakup, and she’d kept people with her constantly so she wouldn’t break down when the press asked their prying questions.
She kept telling herself she needed to accept that he was gone so she could move on from this profound pain, but some part of her refused to believe he was out of her life forever. She kept hoping against hope for a miracle. He would relent and forgive her…. And love her. She wanted this miracle more than ever, and not solely because she was carrying his child.
That’s why she was barely listening to the buzz around her, why she couldn’t stop staring past Gram toward the door, why she couldn’t stop hoping the door would open and she’d find him standing there. If only he’d walk in, take her in his arms and say everything was all right.
Then, only then, would she be whole and happy again. She didn’t want to get over him. She simply wanted him in her life, in her baby’s life, every day for the rest of her days. She wanted to wake up to his face on the pillow and go to sleep with the same vision, and she couldn’t seem to get past that heartfelt desire. So for days—or was it weeks, she’d lost count—she’d lingered in a dreadful suspended state of suffering.
She was an actress, so she hid her pain with brilliant smiles and quick laughter, but those who knew her weren’t fooled.
Suddenly, there was a roar in her ears, and she felt faint.
Summer closed her eyes and wished them all gone. She needed some alone time before the places were called to get her mind off Zach and onto her character, but everybody else was drinking champagne and having way too good a time to leave the couches.
Suddenly Paolo stormed into the dressing room. His expression was so serious when he yelled for everybody to be quiet that the uproar died instantly. He motioned for them all to leave, and because of his imperious manner, Paolo got what he wanted. They fled.
Normally, she would have thought his actions meant her reviews were bad and he’d come to tell her this bitter truth, but tonight she couldn’t stop thinking about Zach long enough to care.
Paolo took her hand, squeezed it fiercely. “Bella! I came to tell you your reviews are sensational! The critics loved you in the previews! They adore you! We’ve got a hit!”
“You’re sure?”
“I’m sure.”
“Oh.”
“Is that all you can say?” he thundered, quite put out at her lack of enthusiasm.
“I’m thrilled. Of course, I’m thrilled,” she whispered dully as the overture began and places were called.
She was hardly aware of the music or of Paolo as she rose.
Paolo kissed her cheek and shoved her toward the door. “Go out there and break a leg.”
She was on her way out the door when she remembered her secret ritual on opening nights. Walking swiftly to her dressing table, she flung open a drawer and removed the white-leather volume with fading gilt letters on its covers. She opened it and pressed her lips gently against the withered, yellowed rose.
Then she replaced the cherished volume and ran.
* * *
Lightning lit the sky. Thunder reverberated almost instantly.
Then all was dark again as torrents of rain slashed the jet.
Inside, Zach jammed his cell phone into his pocket impatiently and began to pace the length of the plane. He should have been in Manhattan hours ago, before Summer’s play even started. He’d taken a box seat. He’d planned to be in it when she came onstage. He’d never make curtain call now.
He went to the liquor cabinet and grabbed a bottle of scotch. Splashing it into a glass, he drank deeply. Then he fumbled in his other pocket to make sure the tiny, blackvelvet box was still there. He’d told himself to get rid of the ring, but he hadn’t. Had he known even then that he couldn’t live without her?
Pulling the ring out, he lifted the lid. The enormous engagement diamond shot sparks at him as he imagined himself slipping it onto her beautiful hand. If only, she’d have him after he’d pushed her away.
He hated this feeling of being in limbo, on edge, vulnerable. Only his need for her could reduce him to this.
What if Summer said no?
* * *
“Stop!” Zach said when he saw Summer’s name blazing in red neon atop a brightly lit marquee.
Grabbing the dozens of r
ed roses he’d bought her, he got out of the limo in the middle of traffic and made a dash across the street for the theater.
Brakes squealed. Horns honked. Cabbies cursed him. A reporter yelled his name and took his picture. But he didn’t care.
Maybe he could still catch her grand finale.
When he opened the doors of the theater, he heard the roar of applause and a thousand bravos.
They loved her!
His heart swelled with joy and admiration. He loved her, too, and he was nearly bursting with pride at all she’d accomplished. No wonder so many people craved the details of her life. They saw her as a princess in a fairy tale, and they wanted a place in the dream.
He remembered when she’d wowed everybody in Bonne Terre in her high-school production of Grease. Zach had believed in her dream then. He had wanted her to succeed, and now she had.
He was running down the center aisle of the orchestra section when she walked onto the stage in a glittering gold gown to take her final curtain call. At the sight of her, so slim and stunningly lovely, the crowd went even wilder, yelling her name along with more bravos.
There must have been two thousand people in that theater, and they were packed to the rafters.
She bowed gracefully as people stood cheering.
Zach waved and called her name, but she couldn’t hear him over the roar of her audience.
Everyone began to throw roses at the stage.
This was her moment. He stopped and waited, allowing her to shine.
There would be time later to take her in his arms, to tell her how sorry he was he’d hurt her, to swear to her he’d never do it again, to beg for her forgiveness. He’d tell her he wanted to marry her so he could spend the rest of his life making it up to her.
The past didn’t matter. Her fame didn’t matter. Only she and their baby and the life they would make together was important to him.
* * *
Blinded by the stage lights and feeling a little faint, Summer took another deep bow. When she straightened, she raised her hands and blew kisses as the audience continued to clap.
They stomped and screamed louder, so she bowed a final time.
This time when she straightened she heard a man on stage right call her name.
His voice shuddered through her, or did she only imagine him there?
Hoping, she turned and was overjoyed to see a tall man in a dark suit holding the biggest bouquet of roses she’d ever seen.
“Zach,” she whispered, not really believing what she saw, as she took a faltering step toward him. She sucked in a breath. “Is it really you? Or am I dreaming? Oh, please, God, don’t let me be dreaming!”
Then he came nearer, and his dear face with all those hard angles came into focus, and she saw that his eyes were warm and filled with love. He smiled sheepishly, but he dazzled her just the same.
“Oh, Zach. You came. You really came. I wanted you here so much. You’ll never know…how much.”
Handing her the huge bouquet of red roses, he swept her into his arms and kissed her.
Dozens of flashes exploded. The crowd roared, loving him, loving her, loving them together because their fairy tale had come true.
She couldn’t believe he’d come tonight, that maybe he still loved her. But then she could believe it because his kisses took her breath away as did the tears shining in his beautiful, dark eyes.
“Forgive me,” he whispered. “Love me… . Please love me again or I’ll die.”
“Oh, Zach… . With all my heart,” she replied. “Always. And forever.”
* * *
Although the corridor outside Summer’s dressing room was noisy, Summer was aware of nothing except Zach, who was on bended knee, looking up at her, his expression fierce, almost desperate, as he clutched her hand.
“Tell me you weren’t playing a part for the crowd when you promised to love me out there, sweetheart.”
“I wasn’t.”
“I wouldn’t blame you if you were. I deserve that…and worse.”
“I’ve loved you since I was thirteen. I never stopped loving you. I never will.”
“I never stopped loving you, either. I’m sorry I was so brutal when you came to Louisiana to tell me about our baby. You were so beautiful in pink, so damned beautiful, so sad…. And I deliberately hurt you. Maybe because I felt so much and was determined to ignore those feelings. Gram called me a fool for not listening to my gut and a coward for pushing you and your love away, and she was right.”
“It’s okay. It’s okay.” Gently Summer cupped his rugged face in her hands. “It’s okay. I understand. I do.”
“To ever think you weren’t worth whatever it costs to make our life together was the second biggest mistake of my life. The first was that I should have stood by you fifteen years ago instead of blaming you for not standing by me. I’ve always been a selfish, egotistical bastard.”
“I should have done better by you, too.”
“We can’t go back,” he said. “Or control the events of the past. We can only control how we view them.”
“And the press? You really think you’ll be able to stand all the fuss?”
“I don’t care what the world thinks about me or you. Whatever we have together is true. It is the strongest force in my life…. Stronger even than my ambition, stronger than any lie the vicious press can write or say. I haven’t given a damn about work since we’ve been apart. Nothing matters to me as much as you and our child. Nothing. I can’t change the past, but together we can change our future.”
She’d waited so long to hear such words from him, to feel loved by him so completely. Happiness overflowed in her heart.
“Will you marry me, then, Summer Wallace? Will you honor me by becoming Mrs. Zach Torr?”
“What? And give up my stage name?” she teased.
He pulled a black-velvet box out of his hand and opened it.
The diamond sparkled with a vengeance.
But her eyes shone even brighter as she stared down at him. “Oh, my! You could persuade a lot of girls with a rock that size.”
“You’re the only one I want, and you didn’t answer the question.”
“That’s because I’m still in shock. But, yes. Yes!” she cried as he slid the ring onto her finger. “Yes!”
“Then kiss me, Summer. This time I won’t complain about an Oscar performance.”
She laughed as she pulled his face up to hers and pressed her lips to his and did just as he commanded, for a very long time. Only it wasn’t a performance, it was true and real.
She’d always been true and real. He would never doubt her again.
“Mrs. Zach Torr,” she breathed in an awed tone when he finally released her.
A single tear traced down her cheek. Only this time it was a tear of joy.
* * *
Summer had never had more fun at a cast party than she was having tonight with Zach beside her and his ring glimmering on her left hand. At the same time she couldn’t wait to steal away from the lavish affair, so she could spend the rest of the night with her fiancé.
But they had forever, didn’t they? Or at least as long as they both should live.
Because they’d known the reviews would be good, the producers were out to impress. They’d rented a fabulous ballroom at the top of one of New York’s most prestigious hotels. The food was excellent; the champagne vintage. She had to stay awhile because she was the star.
When Hugh crashed the party unexpectedly and began garnering more press than anybody else, she tensed, whispering to Zach that she’d tell the show’s producers to make him leave.
Zach pressed a fingertip to her lips. “Let him stay, sweetheart. I don’t care. The press can write whatever they want about the three of us.”
“You really don’t care?”
“I swear it. Don’t worry about me. Introduce me to the bastard. I’ll even pose with him. Go do what you have to do. Work the crowd. Let the photographers take the appropriate pic
tures of you with your cast and producers. Because the sooner you do, the sooner we can leave and have the rest of the night for each other.”
She listened to his sure, calm voice, which didn’t hold the faintest trace of jealousy, and felt as if she’d come home. At last.
Happiness filled her. So much happiness, she couldn’t speak.
“Oh, Zach.”
He pulled her into his arms. For a long moment, as he held her close, she realized that this was her new life, their shared life. He was part of all she was, just as she would be part of all he was. No more scandals stood between them.
They would be together forever.
Epilogue
The stairs creaked as Summer carried Terri, who was bundled in pink blankets and asleep, up to the nursery. But she couldn’t put her beautiful, dark-haired little girl in the crib. The baby was too soft and warm and cuddly, and every minute Summer held her was too precious.
The joy-filled days passed so fast. Summer had given herself a year off for maternity leave, and already four months of it were gone. So she sat in the rocker and began to sing to her little girl while she stared out at the pines that fringed the house that had belonged to her family for more than a hundred years.
Summer loved the time she and Zach spent in this old house, the time when they left their nannies and servants in their larger residences in Houston and New York, and they could be together with Gram and Tuck.
Downstairs Gram was cooking a dinner for all of them, so the house was fragrant with the rich aroma of Cajun spices. Nick had supplied Gram with shrimp, and she’d promised them all, including Nick, a big pot of gumbo.
Nick, who adored Terri so much he’d even made a place in his heart for Summer, would be joining them.
