Broken Juliet(93)

“They say fortune favors the brave.”

I think about arriving on his doorstep. Convincing him to make love to me. Finally letting him in again.

A shudder of pleasure runs up my spine. “I guess it does.”

I lean against the wall of my dressing room. I’ve been struggling with my focus exercise and just can’t seem to get into the zone. Last night was the same. I’m betting tomorrow night will be, too.

It’s not that I find it uncomfortable performing with Nathan, but getting into character without Ethan is much more difficult than I thought it would be.

I shake out my tension and roll my neck. I have ten minutes. I need to get my crap together.

I walk down the hall to Ethan’s dressing room and open the door. A waft of his scent hits me as I turn on the lights, and I inhale deeply.

Within seconds, I feel better.

I sit in his spot in front of the mirrors and touch all his stuff. Not that he has a lot. Pancake makeup, powder, hair goop. Eyeliner he never uses because his lashes are stupidly long and dark.

I open a drawer and find a book called Awakening the Sacred Body.

Oh, Ethan. Reading a little pornography, are we? Naughty man.

I flip through it, expecting to see diagrams of sexual positions. I’m sorely disappointed. There are very few pictures, and those I find show a middle-aged Chinese man demonstrating various meditation poses.

Party pooper.

As I flick through to the back of the book, a photo falls out. It’s of Ethan and me. We have our arms around each other and look genuinely happy. I remember the moment well. It was taken at the opening night party of Romeo and Juliet in our first year of drama school. Jack Avery took it just after he’d read our first glowing review. I’d felt like I could float off the ground that night.

I run my finger over Ethan’s face. His smile is so beautiful, it makes me sad to think I didn’t see it that much in the time we spent at college.

“He took that picture all over the world, you know.” I turn to see Elissa leaning against the doorframe. “Well, all over Europe, at least. Looked at it every night before he went onstage. I’m surprised you can still make out your face.”

“I have the same picture at home,” I say. “It’s the only picture of us I kept. All the others were torched in a drunken purging ceremony.”

“Valentine’s Day?” Elissa asks.

“Yep.”

“Had a few of those myself over the years.”

I put the picture in the book and replace it in the drawer. When I turn back to Elissa, she’s smiling.

“What?”

“I spoke to Ethan earlier.”

I’m immediately nervous. Did he tell her we slept together?

I try to play it cool. “Oh? How is he?”

“Even over the phone I can tell he’s on cloud nine. Am I right in assuming something happened between you guys?”

Her face is so hopeful, I can’t lie. “I guess.”

I can see her almost vibrating with happiness. “Well … okay. That’s … wow. Great.”

“Elissa, it’s still really early.”

“I know. But, it’s going to work out this time. I have no doubt.” She comes over and hugs me. “He’s been crazy in love with you for years. He’s not going to screw this up. I’m certain that right now, my brother is the happiest man on the planet.”

“Well, I guess we’re both due a little happiness, right?”

“Absolutely.” She hugs me again then pulls back. “Now, get your ass in gear. It’s five minutes ’til places.”

“Okay. Be right there.”

When she leaves, I go over to the closet and find Ethan’s warm-up clothes. I pick them up and hug them. When I close my eyes, I can almost imagine it’s him.

Two minutes later, I try my focusing exercise again.

I nail it.




His face appears on the screen, and I want to reach out and touch him.

“Hi,” I say and exhale with relief.

He sighs and licks his lips. “Wow. Hi. Fuck, you look so good. I feel like I haven’t seen you in weeks.”

“We spoke last night.”

He scoffs. “That was a lifetime ago.”

He glances over his shoulder, and I can make out the dimly lit interior of his trailer. “I don’t have long to talk. We’re between scenes. I’m waiting for them to reset lights.”

“You’re shooting all night again?”

“We finish when the sun comes up.”

“That’s your costume?”

He looks down at himself and smiles. “Yeah. Sexy, huh?”

He’s wearing a ripped white T-shirt stained with blood. The left side of his face is swollen and bruised, and his bottom lip is split.

“Hmmm. Yes, very rugged. Your bruise makeup is impressive.”

He chuckles. “Uh … yeah. Not all of that is makeup.”

“What?”

“We filmed the big fight scene last night. I weaved when I should have ducked and … well…”

“No!”

“Yep. Pow. Right in the kisser.”

“Oh, Ethan.”

“It’s okay. I’ve had worse.”