Page 90 of Devil's Thirst

He disappears, and a few minutes later, my sister joins me. I see the sadness in her smile and hate that I put that there. Someone as loving as Noemi should never have to be sad. I know that’s not realistic, but I can keep myself from being the cause, at the very least.

“Hey, Em. You doin’ okay?”

“Yeah, I was getting the boys down for a nap. What’s up?”

I cross over to her and do something I should have done ages ago. I hug her. I wrap my arms around her and hold her in anembrace built by a lifetime of love. “I’m so sorry, Emi. I know it’s been a long four—nearly five—years, and I’ve put you through hell and back, but that’s over.” I pull back and look earnestly deep into her eyes. “I’m here for you—for the kids. I’m back, and I swear I won’t let you down again.”

“Oh,Sante. You never let me down,” she says in a shaky voice, eyes growing glassy. “I worried about you, that’s all.”

“Well, I felt like I let you down in so many ways. That’s why it’s been so hard for me to face you, but that was fucking selfish of me. You’re my Little Big. You willalwaysbe my Little Big, even when we’re in our eighties.”

She makes a strangled sobbing noise and lunges at me, hugging me tightly.

“I wasn’t done yet,” I tease, holding her close. “I didn’t get to tell you how much I appreciate everything you’ve ever done for me. I couldn’t have asked for a more incredible sister.”

Noemi devolves into a sniffling fit of hiccuping sobs. Conner rounds the corner like he’s ready to rearrange my face but stops when he sees us hugging.

“I’m s-s-s-sorry. It’s the h-h-hormones,” she forces through her tears.

I smile and kiss the top of her head. “No worries, Em. You cry all you need, so long as they’re happy tears.”

She nods against my chest. Conner slips back out of sight, and I finally toss aside the first boulder from the mountain of guilt I’ve been carrying with me.

CHAPTER 42

AMELIE

Most Broadway performancesrun Thursday through Sunday, with rest in between. Opening nights are usually scheduled for a Thursday or a Sunday. This time around, we open on a Sunday, which I prefer because that means a few days off after all the hype of a first big performance. It also means an earlier show. The curtain draws at five thirty, and we’re nearly there.

We did a light rehearsal to warm-up and address any last-minute issues—more to settle nerves than anything. Our director gave a teary pep talk slash thank-you speech with a gentle reminder about the critics and reporters in tonight’s audience. As if we could possibly forget.

Lights and sound have been checked, and the orchestra is warming up. The cast is fully costumed with Hazel and her crew on hand to deal with any wardrobe malfunctions. And most importantly, the audience has begun to enter the theater.

Our months of tireless preparation are about to be put to the test.

The air backstage is electric yet subdued as though we’ve all won the lottery but also have a room full of sleeping babies we don’t want to disturb. Even in the dressing room, where we can’t be heard on stage, everyone speaks in hushed tones.

I adore the feeling of opening night jitters. Sure, my stomach is in knots, but there’s also a giddy sense of relief and anticipation. Even more so tonight since this is my first principal role. I can’t wait to prove myself worthy of that honor, though only one set of eyes truly matters to me. I know exactly where he’ll be sitting, so I’ll dance for him tonight.

“Hey, all ready?” Hazel asks when she joins me while I stretch to keep my muscles warm.

“Definitely.” I grin at her. “You get everything handled?”

“Yeah, Melody’s headpiece refused to stay put, but she may have to be buried in it now. That thing’s not going anywhere.”

“She’d probably prefer to lose a chunk of scalp than risk the thing flapping around during a key moment. I know I would.”

Hazel snorts. “Hey, is your new man going to be here tonight?”

“He is.” My grin is infectious. “Haze, I didn’t say anything earlier because I don’t have a ring or anything, but he proposed.”

Her jaw hits the floor. “What?” she shrieks.

“I know, it seems crazy fast, but it’s just … right.”

She gapes at me for a second before shaking her head as if to snap back to reality. “Hey, when it’s right, it’s right. And your families are close, so that helps, but I’m still blown away. Mellie, you’reengaged!” She pulls me into a borderline aggressive hug. “I’m so happy for you. And seriously, if I had a man that hot begging me to marry him, I’d say yes, too.”

I giggle at the thought of Sante begging because it would never happen. He’d probably roofie me into marriage before he begged. I keep that little nugget to myself. Just because I’ve accepted the unique nature of our relationship doesn’t mean everyone else will understand.

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