Chapter 15
END OF THE LINE
LOURDES
“Idon’t want you to go,” Leah whined. “You can’t.”
My departure from Victoria wasn’t my first choice, initially.
But my agent, Gabe, landed me the lead role in a new rom-com that began shooting in LA in only two days.
I’d known for two weeks and notified production.
My lawyers did their job to extricate me.
However, I didn’t tell Leah until two days ago.
She’d taken it on the chin, but reality loomed as we sat in her dressing room after the show.
“I wish you’d have let me throw you a party. At least let me buy you a drink.”
I reluctantly agreed. In truth, she was the only one I cared about saying goodbye to.
I knew I’d meet everyone again in a future life, but Leah was the one I’d miss too much.
She played the annoyingly bubbly force that bookended my day at least several times a week.
Now, I’d be lucky to see her a few times a year.
We ended up in the back room of a questionable pub where the cast sometimes decamped. Leah looked bereft as she drank a pint of Guinness with a bare face. It was the same face I’d no longer have the privilege to wake up to. We weren’t A Thing in any true sense, but it pained me to leave her.
“I don’t know why you had to go right now, Lou.”
“Darling, you aren’t daft. You know.”
“I do, yes,” Leah agreed. “In a logical sense. But it seems so quick.”
“You know a film is—”
“So big. And I am happy for you.”
She reached for my hand. “I get it, but you gotta give me time to be okay with it. I’m simply not, Lou. I want you here. I’m selfish. It’s not the same without you.”
I swallowed. “Well, it just can’t be changed.”
“I know.” Leah looked at her glass.
“What good would it do me to drag it out? Anyhow, lord knows you’ll be onto Broadway while I’m in Hollywood.”
Leah didn’t meet my gaze. For a moment, I had a flash of hope.
I realized what I wanted from Leah—what I’d also avoided—was a confession that she wanted to make it work.
Come on, Leah, tell me that you want me.
I pleaded internally. She opened her mouth and I prayed she was about to do just that. Instead, she remained perfectly Leah.
“Well, I’ll come visit you anyhow.”
It wasn’t what I wanted to hear.
Disappointed, I quipped, “No. You hate LA. You don’t have to—”
“Shut the fuck up, Lou!” Leah giggled. “Yes, I loathe LA. But I love you.”
My jaw dropped.
Leah course corrected as fast as the phrased dropped, “Oh, stop! I’m not proposing. I’m saying we are besties, right? Joined at the hip? Of course I will visit!”
Visit me. Friends. I wanted her to visit. I knew she’d crash at mine and we’d have fantastic sex. It always just worked with Leah. She was the vice I’d never quit. Yes, she was my dearest friend in some weird twist of fate. I’d have to settle for that.
“Sure,” I agreed. “That’s… I can show you around.”
“We can go shopping and eat sushi and all the things,” Leah tried cheering me up. “Yes, okay, you’ve cheered me up a little. Lou, I really am so happy for you. I promise you that I always will be.”
I fought the urge to cry. “Yeah, I know.”
She was painfully earnest, but in that honesty was the truth. I wanted to tell her how I felt deep down but knew she didn’t feel the same. Unable to take it anymore, I finished my beer.
“Look, I have such an early morning,” I said. “I need to sleep.”
Leah pouted. “You don’t even want a goodbye fuck?”
I couldn’t bear the thought. “It’s not that I don’t want to. It’s that I know if I don’t sleep, I will be a mess.”
“Boo! I hate your self control.”
“No, you admire it.” I sighed, standing.
Leah rose. She wrapped her arms around me tight.
I wanted so badly to kiss her, but the rules were I couldn’t.
We were on display in a pub that was much too close to the theater and full of prying eyes.
I stepped back and took her in—her messy post-cold-cream existence.
It was what I adored most. It was the unadulterated, brave, carefree woman who broke me every time.
“Breakfast. Tomorrow, remember?” She said confidently.
“Sure,” I agreed.
Leah pecked my cheek and off I went. I broke into tears the minute I reached the cab.
The idea of seeing her tomorrow and saying goodbye cut too deep.
I knew once more I’d be hopeful that she’d offer to make this work despite my concerns and the distance.
I needed her to be the one to say it. And yet?
She didn’t. I couldn’t let her take me to breakfast and the airport.
The cabbie asked, “You alright, miss?”
“Sure,” I agreed. “I’m… actually, can you make a run to Heathrow?”
“From here?”
“No, if you go to the address we planned, I’ll just be a minute grabbing my bag. I have an early flight. I’d rather just get right on it.”
“Ah. Sure,” he agreed. “Not a problem.”
We reached my address and I raced to my tiny walk-up.
My studio was vacant. The movers put my stuff into storage the day before.
Seeing it totally empty felt final. I was leaving London poor but triumphant, so why did I feel such a loss?
I didn’t need this apartment or this meager existence, but none of that mattered.
I changed into my traveling outfit and packed everything else in my large suitcase which I hefted downstairs by some miracle.
My muscles were tired from a full performance and a Wednesday matinee.
The cabbie collected my bag, and I settled into the cab. Once we landed on the curb at Heathrow, it was over. Done. Final. I texted Leah knowing she was asleep by now and wouldn’t see my text until morning.
ME
Took an early flight. Apologies but things changed. I will miss you. XX.