Chapter 47
If backstage is chaos, this side of the curtain is loud. There’s applause coming from all sides, and I try to hold it together as I march down the runway with my models. In my designs.
Holy shit, they’re applauding my designs.
All at once, I remember why the hell I’m even doing this: to land some investors and take these designs across the country. Buoyed by the applause coming from the audience, it’s the first time I realize I might actually accomplish what I set out to do.
Back at the beginning of the runway, I turn to give the audience a little bow as I attempt not to bawl in relief. Through the haze of the spotlight, right off stage left, in the crowd, I glance at the seat I reserved, hoping against all hope it was the right thing to do. To put my heart on the line one last time.
While Patrick, Kendra, and Leslie are giving me a standing ovation, Kit’s reserved chair is empty.
It feels like a punch in the stomach. I force myself to stand an inch taller, spine rigid. I will not break down.
He left. After saying he wanted to divorce me. Then he basically fell off the face of the earth, just like the last time. It was silly to hope he’d show.
And dammit, I’ll be okay. I have to be. Even though that knot in my chest is pulling tighter with every breath.
I should know better than this, better than to hold out hope. It was only luck that I’d ever seen him again after the first time he walked away. If it had been up to him, he probably wouldn’t have chosen to see me again.
As I return backstage, the applause here is even louder, punctuated with whoops and hollers. Jamie is up on the scaffolding, telling everyone to head to the dressing area and hang up their dresses. In the flurry of commotion, Catarina pulls me aside. “I’ve got someone who wants to speak with you. About investing in your line.”
“What?” I snap my head in her direction. “Already?”
Catarina nods, beaming. “They have a small conference room inside. It’s the last door on the left. He’s waiting when you’re ready.”
I swallow, giving her a nod. Without thinking, I pull her and Ruby into a bear hug and tell them tearfully, “Thank you so much, both of you. You made this silly dream of mine come true and I—”
My voice cuts out when they both squeeze me tightly. “Best show of my life!” Ruby sounds like she means it.
“Go meet your guy.” Catarina nudges me toward an exit. “You’ve earned this moment, Andie. Take it.”
I wipe the tears off my face as I swallow the lump in my throat, riding the wave of catharsis to the conference room inside the main building.
I open the door to find a man in a bespoke suit with his back to me. He’s holding a stack of paperwork. My heart lurches in my chest when he turns around, a half grin hooking the corner of his pretty mouth.
My knees very nearly give out, because it’s the same view and the same look he gave me almost four months ago, walking down the aisle in my very own wedding dress—the one I’m still wearing—to start the beginning of a truly transformative experience.
Kit.
He came. And he’s wearing one of my pocket squares.
I give him a shaky smile, too afraid to guess at what it means that he’s here. “Hey, stranger.”
He turns to fully face me, eyes tracing a path from my toes to my face. It feels like his hands all over me again. “Hey,” he offers with a wistful smile. “You look beautiful.”
Tears prick the backs of my eyes again. “You always tell me that.”
“It’s always true.” We stand on opposite ends of the room, afraid to get closer.
The way he’s looking at me right now, his eyes soft with hope and apology, something clicks in my brain.
He’s always, always told me I look beautiful. Every time I saw him. From our kiss at the altar to every day after. Because there it is, the perfect thing for him to say: You look beautiful.
It was right there, the whole time.
I can’t believe it took me this long to figure it out.
I take in a sharp breath. “Kit, when you say I look beautiful, what is it you’re really trying to say?”
“How I feel.” He lets out a huff of laughter and takes a step closer.
It’s all the invitation I need—my feet hurry across the room as I give in to the pull humming between us. Kit’s here, and he wants to talk, and that must mean—
My eyes fall to the stack of paper next to him on the small table. I stare at the letterhead, frozen.
These are the divorce papers I sent to him weeks ago. And on top of them, there’s a check for a hundred thousand dollars. One of the official kinds, from a bank. Which means this move was premeditated. He came in here ready to hand me divorce papers and a pile of money.
He takes a deep breath. “I want to invest in Andrea Dresser Designs. Silently. I don’t want a say in what you do.”
I roll my tongue in my mouth, trying to absorb the bitter taste of disappointment. How dare he do this on the best damn night of my life? I thought for a split second he was here to … I don’t know … ask for forgiveness? To tell me he made a mistake?
But my vision blurs as I close my eyes and slowly shake my head.
Despite all of this, I still love him. My heart is still reaching for him through my rib cage. And my mind knows we can still work it out, if we do this our way.
I take one more deep breath and open my eyes, ignoring the screaming in my chest as I simply stare at the divorce papers like a ticking time bomb. Now or never, I suppose.