Broken Juliet(82)

It’s a weird analogy, but I remember seeing a movie when I was a kid in which a sub had been hit by a torpedo. There were all these compartments that started filling up with water, and people were racing through corridors and sealing airtight doors behind them so they wouldn’t drown.

The way Ethan’s been acting recently is making me close off all the areas I had opened up to him when we got back together, and the torpedo hasn’t even hit yet.

Ethan notices. He sees me pulling away just as he has. We talk about how we’re going to spend some time together in New York after graduation, but it’s never with any conviction. I don’t think I could fake conviction now if I tried. Everything is desensitized and nothing hurts.

Conversely, nothing feels truly good, either.

We still have sex, but it’s like the intimacy is just fading away. In the past, I might have fought against it, but not anymore.

I’m not the caretaker of this relationship. I took on that responsibility once and was nearly ruined by it. If he thinks I’m going through it again, he’ll be sorely disappointed.

I think we’re both waiting for the other to magically fix us, all the while knowing it’s not possible.



Present Day

New York City, New York

Graumann Theater

We start on opposite sides of the stage, and through the next scene, we’re slowly drawn to each other. It’s a metaphor in movement, and I take a deep breath and open myself up, letting emotions attach to each word.

“Someone once said, ‘If you love something, set it free. If it comes back, it’s yours. If it doesn’t, it never was.’”

The lighting is dim, but as we move toward each other, it brightens slowly.

“You don’t believe that?” Ethan asks.

“I do, but the thing is, sometimes people want to leave leave because they’re scared, or misinformed, or insecure, or confused. And it’s at those times … those hard, definitive moments when two people stand on the brink of falling or flying, that you have to ask yourself: Do I let this person go? Or do I make sure, before they take one more step toward the door, they know all the reasons they should stay?”

He drops his head. “I didn’t need a reason. I needed an excuse.”

“Why?”

“Because when I found out about your family and your money, I didn’t think I was good enough for you. Or good for you.”

“Well, that’s just stupid. Thinking you’re not good enough because of money?”

“To be fair, it was money and power.”

“I have zero power.”

His gaze intensifies, searing my skin. “Over me, you do.”

Now, we’re toe to toe, and I put my hand on his face. “I didn’t tell you about my family because it wasn’t important. Just like ribbons and fancy paper have no relevance to the present that’s inside. I wanted to be valued for more than just the expensive label. And you gave me that. You made the plain, unwrapped me feel like the most precious thing in the world.”

He kisses me, and the rest of the lights fade as the spotlight tightens to contain just us. A whole world encapsulated in a single shaft of light.

“So yeah,” I say, “I don’t believe in loving something enough to set it free. I believe in loving it enough to fight for it. To yell and scream and beat my fists until they know … they understand … that they’re mine, before they make the choice to walk out the door.”

He touches my face, gentle fingers trailing down my cheek. “I’m glad you didn’t let me walk away.”

“Me too. Otherwise, I would have had to follow you.”

He kisses me as the spotlight fades to black, and there are a few seconds of silence before the audience explodes into applause. It takes me a few moments to let go of Sam and Sarah and return to Cassie and Ethan, but when I do, the lights come back up, and we take our bows.

I get the familiar rush of adrenaline from having a good show, but underneath it is an undercurrent of anxiety. It’s been there since I overheard Ethan’s phone call earlier in the week.

We head offstage and back to our dressing rooms, and I stew for the entire time I’m taking off my makeup and getting changed.

By the time Ethan knocks on my door, I’m close to fuming.

I yell, “Come in!”, and he’s barely closed the door before I’m leveling my finger at him.

“I really wanted you to tell me without me having to ask, but it’s driving me insane. What are you hiding from me?”

“What?”

“You know what I’m talking about. You’ve been cagey all week.”

“Cassie…”

“You promised I could trust you! Told me you were an open book. Was that all just bullshit?”

“No.”

“Then tell me. I heard you on the phone the other day. I know something’s going on. You said it had nothing to do with me, but I’m pretty damn sure it does.”

He sighs. “There was a casting director in the audience last week. She wants me to go to L.A. to guest star in the new hit HBO drama. It’s a pretty big role, and my agent is pushing me to take it.”

“Then why don’t you?”

“Because … we’ve only been open four weeks, and we’re making real progress offstage, and … I don’t want to go.”