25. Sahara
25
Sahara
I spent the better part of the week moping and hating myself. I checked my phone numerous times, waiting for something, anything from Kalen, but no. He’s angry and he has every right to be. I made a grave mistake in not being forthright with him, but I never ever meant to hurt him. I didn’t think this hook-up would last…didn’t think we’d fall in love.
A sob catches in my throat and I choke it back. I’m at work and the last thing I need is to break down in tears, especially when I have to go on stage tonight. How I’m going to pull off a performance is beyond me. All I want to do is curl up in a corner and cry.
My phone pings and I snatch it from the desk drawer, my heart in my throat. I calm a bit when I see that it’s from Taylor. I haven’t seen her since she went off with Elias for Thanksgiving, and I really hope things went well for her. She hasn’t stopped messaging me, which means our friendship is intact, for the time being.
I can only assume that Kalen kept all this deceit from her, wanting to protect her that way he always does. His biggest concern was that a relationship between the two of us might negatively affect my relationship with his sister. It will now, and I’m heartbroken over that.
I haven’t heard from Gina or any of the other girls. Book club is next week and there’s no way I’m just going to show up. I’ve been ousted from that group, I’m sure. They’re tight and acting like a herd of elephants that surrounds one of their wounded members. Kalen is so lucky to have them all. Does he even realize he’s always had a big family of his own?
I guess the one good thing that came from all this was me telling my family how I really felt, opening up to them and sharing my hurts. Everyone comforted and supported me, and while they spoke the words, their actions haven’t changed. They’re still busy living their own lives, taking very little interest in what I’m doing here in Boston. Did I really expect one heart-to-heart would change everything? At least Mom is going to stop trying to set me up. Come Christmas, there won’t be an eligible bachelor around the table and for that I’m grateful.
Missing Kalen, and missing my family—maybe I should move out of Boston—I swipe at a wayward tear when a customer comes to the counter. Tucking my phone away, I’ll message Taylor later even though I’m not sure what to say, I check out the man’s books and busy myself in my work. Soon enough, it’s quitting time and I have only one hour to make it home, grab something to eat and head to the theater.
My heart is heavy as I head outside, to jump in my car. As I drive, I notice that the nights are growing longer and longer, and by the time I pull into my driveway, I can’t keep the tears from falling. Everything about my little place reminds me of Kalen, of what we had and I’d lost. I don’t even like sleeping in my bed anymore. Would it be cowardly of me to pack up and move home, or would it just be self-preservation? I fought so hard to leave Darien, to pave my own way in life with what little money I saved and currently make. Would it be like going backward with my tail between my legs?
I might have been a quiet book nerd growing up, but I fought hard to get where I am now. I fought for Kalen too. Heck, I pulled up my big girl panties after he said some horrible things and went straight to his house—only for him not to answer the door.
But did you fight hard enough, Sahara?
That thought takes the breath from my lungs. My God, did I fight hard enough? Was one trip to Kalen’s house to convince him to forgive me, to maybe see things through my eyes, and run off into the future with me, enough? Maybe not, considering how long he’s been angry with his father. But forgiveness is hard. I do understand that.
Gathering myself up, I head inside, take a fast shower, and gulp down some leftovers. Nothing as delicious as Kalen’s spaghetti, but I’m not tasting much these days anyway. Once my belly is full, I get back in my car and drive to the theater. Maybe tonight, getting into a different character, will help me forget about who I really am, and how I messed everything up.
The warmth of the small dressing room hits, but does little to warm the chill in me as I step inside, and see the cast all chatting and running lines. Taylor hurries over to me and throws her arms around me.
I put on a big smile. “I hope you’re this happy because of Thanksgiving,” I say.
She bites her lip and glances around. “Elias’ parents are something else, but I think we pulled it off.”
“Did you pull anything else off?” I tease.
Her eyes go wide, a playful look on her face. “Sahara. What exactly are you asking me?”
I laugh. “It’s not my business, but I love seeing you happy.”
She cringes. “It’s so complicated, though. Nothing can come of us.” She blows out a breath. “Big brother.”
“I get it.”
“Yeah, I know. You’ve seen how protective he is of those he loves. I think it’s killing him that Elias is going to move out. He wants to keep us all in bubble wrap.”
Not me, though. He’s having no trouble poking each individual bubble and popping the wrap he once had around me.
“Anyway,” she continues. “Full house out there tonight.”
“Oh, really?” Why would they all be here so early? I make a move toward the door leading to the stage to peek, but she grabs my arm to stop me.
“Oh, no one is there yet. I just mean I heard it’s a sold-out show. Can you help me with this zipper? It keeps getting stuck.” She turns around and lifts her hair to give me access.
“No problem.” I grab the zipper and easily pull it up. “It doesn’t seem to be stuck at all.”
“Oh, jeez, maybe I’m just not as flexible as I used to be.” I’m about to say something, but she averts my gaze and points to a man I’ve never seen before. “Did you see the new prop guy? Gary’s wife had her baby and he’s the replacement. Not bad to look at, huh?”
Okay, that is strange. If she thinks I’m with her brother, why would she be pointing out other men. Oh, God. My pulse jumps. She must know. She must know what happened and is trying to keep things between us normal, which of course is never going to happen, judging by the cagey way she’s acting, and maybe wanting me to hook up with someone else to get me out of her life.
My heart tumbles as the gravity of this situation hits harder than Kalen’s parting words. Our relationship isn’t going to make it. A fresh wave of tears is about to fall, but I pinch them back when the director comes into the room and claps her hands.
We all stop what we’re doing and get instructions from the director. Then a flurry of activity begins as we all get our makeup done, get into our costumes, and go over last-minute things. Soon enough, voices and shuffles can be heard on the other side of the curtain, and I force all my concentration into the play and the happily ever after that happens before the curtain falls.
Do not cry, girl.
I suck in a tight breath, and note the way Taylor is watching me. Yeah, I get it. She knows everything and is just trying to make the best of this play like I am. Moving off to a corner to be alone, I focus in on my script, pretending to rehearse even though I know every word by heart. I push the real world away, and fall into make believe, needing, somehow, to believe there really is happily ever after out there somewhere.
Once again, the director claps her hands and we all gather. Noah, the man who plays the professor I fall for, and I, take to the stage, and the second the curtain opens, I fall into character. For the next couple of hours, we all give a mesmerizing performance and before I know it, we’re all back on stage, holding hands and taking a bow to the thunderous applause.
I stare into the audience, not seeing anyone or anything at all, really. How could I? The stage lights are blinding. It doesn’t matter anyway. There is no one out there for me.
The curtain closes again and we all turn to each other, hugging before we make our way off the stage. Backstage, I go straight for my things, wanting to go home and go straight to bed, even though it’s going to be cold and empty.
I go to the change room and get into my street clothes. The others are making plans for a drink, and I’ll be invited. I’ll just make an excuse. I wipe off my makeup and by the time I’m done, everyone is headed out the door. Not one person asked me to go, or bothered to look back. Okay, great. Did Taylor tell them what I’d done to her brother and now everyone hates me? God, no, she’d never do something like that.
I’m about to head out myself, when my name is called. I spin to see Taylor standing there, also in her street clothes. “What’s up?” I ask, and I don’t think I’ve ever seen her so antsy before, even though I sense she’s trying to showcase casual. She’s a great actress, but tonight, she’s not pulling off calm, because what I did has really affected her.
She jerks her thumb over her shoulder. “Can you come back on stage with me? I messed up one of my lines and if you wouldn’t mind, I’d like to be in my exact position on stage and run it again, with your help.”
“Uh, sure.” I wrack my brain. I don’t remember her flubbing any line. But I’m happy that she’s asking me for my help. Is it possible that I read her all wrong and we can have a relationship? Still, why would everyone leave without even asking me to join them?
Certain that the guests would have left the theater by now, and the curtain would still be closed I agree, “Sure.” We head to the stage and she turns to face me. As she wrings her hands together, an uneasy feeling races through my blood. “Taylor?”
“My brother,” she begins, in a low voice and my blood drains to my feet.
“Taylor—”
She holds her hands up to stop me. “I love him, but he can be dense at times.”
“What?”
What is she talking about?
“He had some things to work through, but I think you know that already.”
I nod. “I wasn’t completely honest, Taylor. With him or you.”
She shrugs, her eyes full of understanding. “We all make mistakes. I think you two should talk.”
I swallow, remembering that Kalen told me she had a lot of forgiveness in her. “I tried. I went to your house. He wouldn’t talk to me.”
Her eyes go wide like that bit of information surprises her. “I actually think he’s worried you won’t talk to him.”
“Why…would he be worried about that?”
She winces. “He said some things…”
“Yeah, he did.” My heart sits heavy as I stare at the floor. “He was upset and had every right to be. I wasn’t who I said I was.”
“Yes, you were. You were always who you said you were. Your only mistake was not telling him you were Darien. But like I said, Sahara, we all make mistakes, and my brother needed to put some things in place to show you what forgiveness looks like.” She gives me a wink. “Actions…far more convincing than words…”
I frown, having no idea what she’s talking about. “What are you…”
My words fall off as the curtain opens and now, with the lights on in the theater, and not blaring on the stage, I can see everyone in their seats. I gasp and clasp my chest as tears fill my eyes.
“What…what?” I glance at Taylor as she inches away. I look back out over the audience, identifying them all.
My family.
The hockey players.
The WAGs.
Two men I don’t recognize, but one who looks an awful lot like Kalen.
I catch movement near the side emergency exit door and turn to see Taylor opening it. I nearly fall to my knees when a very familiar figure walks through it. Tears fall as a sob catches in my throat.
“Kalen…” is all I can manage to get out.
He rubs his eyes, which are dark and puffy, full of worry and pain. “Sahara.” He holds his hand out to me, like he’s terrified I won’t take it, but I do.
I look at the audience again. “What is happening? Why…why? How?”
His chuckle is soft, yet full of nervousness. “The how part was tricky, especially with everyone’s schedules. The why part is easy. We are all here because you’re important to us. I wanted to show you that. We’re all proud of you and your accomplishments. Tonight’s performance was off the charts, and your family is brimming with pride out there. Just look at them.”
I turn to see them all smiling at me, and for the first time in my life, I actually feel ‘seen’ by them. Valued. Respected.
My God, he really did all this for me? My heart wobbles, the love I feel for this man exploding inside me.
“Sometimes people make mistakes, they do things because they think it’s what’s best for you. Sometimes it’s to protect you.” He turns and makes eye contact with his father. “I understand that and asked for all these people to come here tonight so they could see what I see.”
“What…what do you see?” I ask, almost afraid of the answer after the way he walked out on me.
His smile is warm, and soft. “I see a woman who is talented, kind, and giving. I see a woman with strength, who always fought for what she wanted. I see a woman who is independent, and adventurous. I see a woman with many faces, and I love every single one of them.” Before I say anything, not that I think I can get any words out past the lump in my throat, he takes my other hand. “I didn’t know until tonight that you came to my place, to fight for me.” I swallow and tears spill. The warm tender look he gives me, wraps around my heart and pieces it back together. “No more secrets, okay?”
I nod. “I’m sorry, Kalen.”
“I’m the one who’s sorry. I shouldn’t have reacted?—”
I touch his lips to stop him. “I understand why you did, and I forgive you.”
He smiles. “I don’t deserve you, but it’s not going to stop me from doing this.” He drops to his knees and pulls out a box. I gasp and catch Taylor hugging herself in the corner, a big smile on her face.
“Darien Lewis Sahara Monroe, will you make me the happiest man in the world and be my wife.”
The audience falls quiet. “I can’t…” I begin and Taylor gasps. Kalen falters on his knees, a gurgling sound in his throat. “I can’t be Darien Lewis Sahara Monroe,” I say quickly, and he briefly closes his eyes.
“Jesus, girl,” he whispers.
“If it’s okay with you, I’d simply like to be Sahara Coolidge.”
A big smile spreads across his face and wraps around my heart. “It’s all I’ve ever wanted,” he says and takes my hand, to put the ring on my finger. He rises to his full height, pulls me into his arms and the audience gives us a standing ovation as he kisses me and spins me around. “I love you, Sahara. No matter what name you want to go by.”
“I love you too, but how about tonight, you call me Monroe,” I playfully tease. He arches a brow, and I run my finger down his shirt. “And I’ll call you Mr. President.”