20. Elena
Circling round the end of the park bench on the set of the last scene of the play, I drag my hand along Warren’s shoulders. He’s playing the male lead and we’re in the final few lines.
“Well, Mr. Rigby, I must admit it’s all quite so sudden.” The Southern twang in my voice is put-on. I don’t have even a hint of an accent, and I’ve had to practice day and night, virtually becoming a Southerner—or so it appeared at times—to master this accent. “I imagine y’all will get along quite famously.”
“Mr. Rigby” stands from the bench and crosses to stage left, where Trixie stands holding a parasol, twisting the shaft and letting the canopy spin. She looks adorable in the pastel pink dress. Her character is my daughter in this play, which we’ve had a lot of fun putting on, and I’m thankful I didn’t get that part because of what comes next.
“Miss Lula Belle,” Warren says, dropping to one knee. He takes the black silk top hat off his head and presses it affectionately to his chest as he takes her hand and kisses it. “Would you be so kind as to do me the honor of becoming my wife?” He had to practice the accent too, which comes out sounding more like a Texas rancher than a Southern gentleman.
“Oh, Mr. Rigby,” Trixie mewls, pressing her hand to her forehead. The audience is tense and on the edges of their seats, ready to whoop and holler for the happy couple. “How could I ever say no?”
Warren pops to his feet and takes her into his arms, spinning her around in a marvelous fashion while planting a giant kiss on her lips. The audience cheers while my character claps right along with them. They kiss very passionately, or what looks to be passionately from my angle, and when the crowd dies down, they stand staring at each other and freeze in place as I take center stage and address the audience directly.
“And there you have it, a tale of two hearts bound together through the eons. They say true love finds a way, that over all the years and in every season, near or far, if true love exists, you will find each other.” I press my hands together and nod, finishing the play with my final line. “Lula Bell and Mr. Rigby… who’d have thought it? Well, of course, I did.” I wink, wave, and sashay off the stage to another round of uproarious applause, and Warren and Trixie continue their kissing as the curtain continues to fall. I stand in the wings waiting for names to be called so we can take a bow and watch as Warren glowers at Trixie and backs away, almost as if she were diseased or something. I know he really wanted me to get that part, and probably for that specific scene. Like I said—I’m glad I didn’t get it.
One by one, the names are called. Mine always comes last when I’m the lead. Warren and Trixie get called out together. They take their bows, and the audience raves. Then it’s my turn. The emcee calls my name, and I scurry out to the stage to take my bow. Roses land at my feet, teddy bears and letters, but I don’t even look at them. The entire evening has challenged me because Liam sits front and center, staring at me. His eyes follow me now, even as he claps his heart out.
He”s going to come backstage, and I’m going to have to tell him it’s over. I can’t be with someone who lied to me about their very identity. He may have nothing to do with any of the crazy events taking place, but he hid his true nature from me. Trixie and Warren think he was being purposefully deceptive just to manipulate me, but I think he was just afraid. Still, it doesn’t matter. He should have told me.
I bow again and begin collecting the gifts thrown to me by my fans, and for the first time ever, I wish Warren were actually being protective over me instead of chatting with the other cast members. I feel isolated and alone as I pick up every letter, card, flower, and stuffed animal. The exuberance of the post-show high is fading, and I know it’s only a matter of time before I’m alone in that dressing room with Liam. I don’t want to hurt him, and it’s not because I fear his family at all. I’ve done my own research and I know who they are now. That alone is scary.
But the reason I don’t want to hurt him goes deeper. I am in love with him. For the past several months, he’s been the most amazing man to me. I just can’t be with him. His family stands for things I could never be okay with—murder, theft, whatever the hell else they do. My moral code would be stretched to the breaking point, and I don’t like the idea of that.
Now that the applause is over and all that’s left is the din of the audience chatting, it’s easier to hear myself think. I pick up the final bouquet of flowers and look to the spot where Liam was sitting, only to find him gone now. By the time I get to my dressing room, he’ll be there. I don’t even have time to collect my thoughts or prepare something to say to him. I have to wing it.
Summoning all the courage I have, I push through the tall velvet curtains and into the backstage area. Everyone has gone ahead of me while I was picking up my things, and I hear Liam’s voice around the corner. I stop and listen to him, my heart already aching at the melodic baritone as he apologizes to Warren.
“I just meant to say that I’m sorry. My behavior was out of line and you have every right to be upset with me. It’s obvious we both care very much for Elena, and I should have respected your friendship.” Even these words sound so sincere, I’d almost believe him, except the lies. How will I ever trust anything he says anymore? Knowing he lied about his identity without batting an eye at me means he could be lying about other things. I never even suspected him, either. I’m so gullible.
I round the corner feeling my cheeks burning. I don’t know if the apology was put on only to make me believe he’s very sincere or if he actually means it. Judging by the look on Warren’s face, he doesn’t believe Liam is being sincere at all. But thankfully, the volatile temper I know resides inside my co-star remains dormant right now as he remains speechless.
Liam’s behavior shifts as soon as he sees me. His eye catches mine, and he whips around with a beaming smile. “Elena, God, I miss you. Can we talk?” He reaches for me, but I swerve away from his grasp, eyeing Warren. With Liam’s back turned, Warren gives me two thumbs up. I told him and Trixie earlier that I was planning to break it off. They both vowed to help me be free of the man, so there’s no surprise when Warren trails behind us in the hallway.
Liam follows on my heels, and the intoxicating scent of his cologne threatens to hypnotize me. How many times has he come backstage after a show? How many shows has he brought me flowers and met me here for a hot make-out session? How can I just snap my fingers and break my own heart by cutting him off? I don’t want to feel this, but I’m just not safe with him.
I lead him into my dressing room and dump the armload of goodies on the table near the door, then move deeper into the room. He shuts the door behind us, but I know Warren is probably there waiting for me to scream out for help or something. That’s the thing. I’m not scared of Liam. He has never once made me feel frightened of him, the few bouts of temper flares notwithstanding. What I’m fearful of is twofold—who will I become if I stay with him, and what will his family do if I don’t?
“Baby, please. You haven’t answered my calls or responded to my messages. Tell me we’re okay.” He reaches for me again, and I hold a firm hand up, stopping his forward movements. He gets the point right away when I nod at the chair across the room.
Turning, I pull my stool away from my vanity and position it so that I can sit in the center of the room. He maneuvers the chair so that he is facing me, but still a few feet away, then he sits down too.
“I’ve done a lot of thinking and a lot of research.” I press my lips together, already not liking the sullen expression he gives me. I may have seen an act this entire time, but I choose to believe some of it was genuine.
“Research?” Liam folds his hands in his lap and narrows his eyes at me.
“Yes. You didn’t think I would just take Warren’s word for it, did you?” I sigh and look away. I can’t look him in the eye the moment his heart breaks. If he is human at all, I know this will hurt him. “I know you’re Dominic Salvatore, and I know who your father is and what you’ve been accused of. I know your middle name is William, which is probably how you got the nickname Liam, or alias, or whatever it is.”
“Elena,” he says, leaning forward. The chair squeaks as he strains to touch my knee, but I turn my stool and move out of reach of his grasp.
“Please, let me finish.” I finally look him in the eye. “I think you understand that I can’t be with someone who lies to me, and keeping your real identity from me was lying.”
“I thought you’d be afraid and run away. I never meant to hurt you. I wanted you to see the real me, not what people say about me.” My heart believes every fucking word from his mouth, but my mind is screaming at me that he’s lying. He’s been lying for months. Why would he stop now?
But it makes sense that he’d feel that way. I imagine he’ll never get a real woman with genuine motives with a name like that. He’ll get an arranged marriage or have twelve different wives and ten whores on the side. It’s the way things work in his world, or at least that’s the way television portrays it.
“I just need to know one thing. Are you the one who’s been stalking me? Because if you are, then I need you to stop. If not, then I need to call the police, and I know you’ve been lying to me, but I need you to be honest now. I?—”
“Stalking you?” he asks, interrupting. “Baby, you’re the love of my life. Why would I stalk you? You’re my everything.” He reaches for me again, and this time, I let him touch my knee. It’s a bad move. It makes me want him, to feel him holding me and make all the lies and horrible emotions go away, but I can’t let my heart feel this. I have to be strong.
“Yes, stalking me. I keep getting these letters and cards that are really creepy.”
Liam looks confused as I take one of the letters and hand it to him. He opens it and pores over it intently, his face growing darker with anger the more he reads. “Who the fuck sent this?” The one he’s reading in particular is even more threatening than the others. This one is a real threat to my person for not being who the stalker thinks I should be.
“I don’t know who sent it.” I tremble as he turns it over in his hand and examines it. I see firsthand how much he really cares, or at least how bad of a reaction he has to someone moving in on what he thinks is his property.
“This is fucked up, baby. I didn’t send this shit. This isn’t me. If I wanted to hurt you, you’d know it. And I don’t ever want to hurt you.” I want to believe him, but I just don’t know.
“In fairness, you’ve been lying. And your father is a Mob boss of a criminal organization.” My hands are sweaty, my tongue sticking to the roof of my mouth.
“Look, I’ll be honest. I told off the director a few times. He’s holding you back. And yes, I paid a few critics to give you good reviews. But I swear I did not do this.” Liam holds up the note and glares at me. “I would never do this.” He stands, and I cower without trying as he leans over me to drop the letter on the vanity behind me. Then he crouches in front of me and takes my hand.
“I hid who I am from you because I was afraid this very thing would happen. You’re judging me by my family and my name, not because of who I am.” He kisses my hand and squeezes my fingers. “Was I ever threatening to you? Did you ever feel afraid of me?”
I can hear Warren now. He’s probably in the hallway listening to this, ready to burst in here and tell me it’s all an act, but Liam is right. He’s never threatened me or hurt me. And only when I snooped in his stuff did he even get upset with me, and he had a right to be.
“Not once,” I tell him, letting my head drop.
“This is insane. Don’t push me away because of who I’m related to. I love you, Elena. I want to make your dreams come true. Come home with me tonight.” He kisses my hand again, but I shake my head.
”I can’t. I need time to think, okay? I just need a bit of space.” I’m teetering on the edge now, so close to caving it isn’t funny, but I have to hold my ground or Warren will start something again.
“Alright. I’ll give you space. But promise me you will call me, or that you will at least answer when I call. Now that I know you have this stalker coming after you, I don’t feel safe. I need to know you’re alright.” Liam’s concern seems genuine, so I nod.
“Alright,” I agree, and he stands and heads for the door.
“I love you.”
The instant he’s gone, the door bursts open with Warren, Trixie, and Schrader flooding in to bombard me with questions, but all I can do is cry. How do I know what’s the right thing to do? And how do I know who to believe? I hate this.