Chapter 36
EMMA
It’s been a stressful week full of tech and dress rehearsals.
The first several shows went well, and I’m relieved that this matinee is our final performance.
Avoiding John during those has been surprisingly easy.
It’s in the quiet moments of the evening, when I’m lying in bed, that my mind drifts to him.
I still haven’t looked at his texts. If I don’t look, then his excuses won’t let me down.
I’ve officially moved on to bargaining, with a side of ice cream-fueled depression.
We’re nearing the end of Act Four as I stand in the wings, taking deep breaths, pushing these thoughts down as I will the nerves away.
“Stage fright?” a voice whisper asks behind me. I turn to see Jeremy and offer him a small smile.
“Something like that,” I say, tight-lipped.
We’ve come a long way in rehearsals, and I’ve been able to handle his touches with little incident.
With some creative blocking, we were able to stage our kiss so it looks real.
I’ve built it up in my head, but our actual kiss is just a quick peck.
And that quick peck is all that’s standing between me and the end of the show.
Once I get through this, I can go back to my apartment and sink into my bed as I wallow in my married professor-induced grief.
I shake out my hands, hoping to dispel more of my nervous energy.
“Want some water? I haven’t drunk from it yet,” he says, unscrewing the cap and handing it to me.
“Thanks.” I gulp down nearly half the bottle.
“Easy there, tiger.” He laughs as I hand it back to him.
There’s a blackout on stage, and we stand there, waiting for our cue.
Once we make our entrance, the scene moves along smoothly, the audience laughs at the appropriate parts and gasps when the hidden identities are revealed.
But something feels off. I look out into the audience and make eye contact with a man in the front row.
It’s hard to focus, and I suddenly feel dizzy, like I’ve been drinking.
The man sitting in the front row peers up at me, clenching his jaw.
He looks peeved. Wait, is that John? It looks like John, but it’s hard to tell since my vision feels foggy and he’s blurring in and out of focus.
I squint my eyes, trying to make him out better.
“And since you called me “master” for so long,
Here is my hand. You shall from this time be
Your master’s mistress.”
I can hear Jeremy’s words next to me, but my gaze is stuck on the man in the crowd.
Is it him?
Jeremy yanks me against his body, and I stumble over my feet.
This isn’t what we rehearsed. My mouth goes dry as I struggle to hold my head up.
I look down at my arms that are trapped between us.
Rough hands cup my face, as thumbs stroke my cheekbones.
For a second it feels like a dream, and I shut my eyes, picturing John’s face peering back at me.
But when I open them, I see Jeremy’s face coming toward mine as he leans in and kisses me directly on the lips.
I feel light-headed and I try to push him away, but everything around me feels like it’s in slow motion yet quickly spinning at the same time.
The kiss feels like it lasts forever, but I’m too weak to stop it.
What’s happening?
When he breaks the kiss, he scoops me into his arms and my head lolls against his shoulder.
“M’lady is overcome with the news, I must bid you adieu,” I hear him say. Is he ad-libbing now? The scene isn’t over. Why are we going backstage?
The sound of applause is distant as I lose the battle to keep my eyes open as everything fades to black.
——————
John
The minute she comes back onstage for Act Five, I know something’s wrong.
She hits all her cues, but her speech is slightly slower.
And then when she looks at me with those glassy eyes, alarm bells start going off.
She almost seems… drunk? Emma doesn’t really drink, but maybe she did a shot to ease her nerves?
And then that fucker throws everything we’d worked on in rehearsal out the window and actually kisses her.
I can see the way she struggles against him—it’s subtle, but I know every movement Emma makes.
I have watched her submit to me at the club, know every twitch, every shudder, every microexpression, and her body is screaming to me for help.
Turning my head, I scan the crowd for Alyx, but I don’t see him. I’m not sure if she has anyone at today’s matinee. Maybe they all came to an earlier show.
I watch as Jeremy carries her off stage and I’m out of my seat, not waiting for the curtain call.
When I get to the door that leads backstage, it’s locked.
Fuck.
I pat my pockets, feeling for my keys, but come up empty, realizing they’re across campus in my office. There’s a distant roar of applause, and I run back to the theatre, making my way down the aisle during the standing ovation and discreetly slip backstage.
It’s chaotic and crowded in the wings as the cast and crew run around excitedly. I see Mackenzie near a dressing room, and I call out getting her attention.
“Where’s Emma? Is she okay?” I force myself to ask calmly, even though I’m screaming on the inside.
“Yeah, Jeremy said she was acting weird backstage earlier. Told him she didn’t feel good.
It’s probably the nerves mixed with the heat from the stage lights that made her pass out.
He said he was going to take her to the hospital to get her checked out just in case.
” Her tone is distracted as she speaks, waving at people and hugging others that approach while we talk.
Am I making things up? Why isn’t she more concerned? Maybe I’m overreacting.
“Did he say which one? The nearest one is a forty-five-minute drive,” I say, panic rising in my throat. Something isn’t sitting right with me about all this.
“He didn’t actually, but I can text him and send you an update.”
“Okay, I’m going to head in the direction of the nearest hospital he might have taken her to. Text me as soon as you find out where she is.” I don’t give her the chance to respond; I take off for my office to grab my keys and start the drive to Columbus to find her.