Page 120 of When Ben Loved Jace
Greg is grinning from ear to ear. He must have conspired with his best friend. All I know for sure, as I watch Jace enthusiastically inspect the colorful images on the box with Emma, is that he’d be a wonderful father. To a child of any age. When we’re ready.
— — —
He’s out there again. In the audience, watching me. I’m almost certain, but I need to know for sure, because if it isn’t him that reflects poorly on me. I shouldnotbe imagining my ex-boyfriend. Especially in the middle of a show.
I’ve been performing at the theater for the better part of a year. The work isn’t as intimidating anymore, even the acting parts that don’t involve much singing. Whatever emotion my character needs to embody, I simply draw from past experience. Which feels like a super power, because it allows me to relive the good and repurpose the bad. All those times I was bullied, for instance. Now I have a place to put the fear, the indignation, the humiliation. Fuel for my furnace. I’d love to see Bryce and Darryl in the front row, forced to watch my command of the stage while their wives swoon over me. Okay, maybe I’m getting a little carried away. I’m not the best actor. I still refuse any role that doesn’t allow me to sing, because only then does the audience truly react, like I’ve managed to reach them.
Even in the back row. That’s where I saw him last week, in the far corner, light reflecting off those unforgettable silver eyes. The table was empty when I took a bow at the end of the play, afew beer bottles the only evidence that anyone had sat there at all. The same thing had happened earlier this week, albeit at a different seat. And now…
We’re about to enter the final act. Flickering lights will move across the audience, indicating the passage of time. When they do, that’ll be my chance to see him clearly. Or whoever it is. I’m not sure what result I want. Some part of me wants Tim to witness how well I’m doing. My life is great. If we were going to run into each other again, this would be the ideal time. And Iamcurious about his life, because neither of us has a presence on social media. I don’t know what became of him after we parted ways. How long has it been exactly?
“Years and years and years!” I sing, turning to the audience so I can watch the lights sparkle across them in a wave. “And always this same feel—” The note catches in my throat because it’s him. Our eyes meet—a jolt running straight to my heart. Speaking of which… “This same feeeeeling!” I belt, hoping the mistake seemed intentional, like my character was overwhelmed by emotion. Which I truly was, no matter how briefly. Did he notice? This is the third time Tim has seen this play. That I know of. How come he’s sitting by himself? What does that mean? Anything?
The role demands my full attention until the final curtain call. When the house lights come up again, the table is empty. What is he trying to do, pass himself off as a ghost? Then again, I totally get it. I did the same thing back in high school when showing up at his baseball game after we’d broken up. Hell, I’d do that now. If there was an opportunity to watch Tim partake in some public spectacle, I’d indulge my curiosity and make a discreet exit toward the end, hoping he wouldn’t notice. I did though. There can be no doubt in his mind, considering the way my voice faltered. I’d be surprised if he comes to another of my performances.
“Great show, everyone!” Brian says as we make our way backstage. He falls in line beside me. “You uh… Missed a note out there, Ben. You sure made it work though. That was a really nice save. Especially the way you clutched at your chest, like your heart was going to break.”
I wasn’t aware of having done that. “Thanks,” I reply, hoping he doesn’t clock my flushing cheeks. “You always write such emotional stories. It just comes naturally.”
“Maybe you should make that an intentional part of future performances.”
“The inspiration has to be there,” I reply diplomatically. “I’m not sure I can fake it.” Or that I want it to ever happen again. Seeing him again was a thrill. Now it’s over.
I report to the long dressing room that I share with the rest of the cast. We joke around and blow off steam while changing into our civilian clothes, transitioning back to our usual selves. They’re teasing me about the screw-up when Brian reappears.
“Ben? There’s someone here to see you.”
My stomach sinks. I’m not ready for this. “Probably one of mymanyadoring fans,” I say grandly, getting back at the others for taking me down a notch. “You know how it is. Oh wait, I suppose you don’t.”
A sweaty T-shirt smacks into the side of my head. A couple of towels soon follow. I rush from the room, Brian shielding me like a bodyguard. Why can’t it stay like this? A nice simple night. No complications. Just me, tired and content after another performance.
But then, if I’m honest, Idowant to see him again.
“He’s quite the looker!” Brian says, walking me toward the front of the building. “Were you expecting anyone?”
“I noticed him in the audience,” I reply. “We go way back.”
“Were you his babysitter or something?”
The comment confuses me until we step into the lobby, which has cleared out except for one person. And it isn’t Tim. The guy is young. Fresh out of high school. His build is slender. Platinum blond hair spills across his forehead and around his ears to tangle at the back of his neck. I’ve never seen him in my life. Holy crap! Maybe I actually do have a fan! Although those sky-blue eyes are pure ice.
The young man opens his arms and walks toward me, as if wanting a hug. “It’s so nice to finally meet you, Benjamin!”
I feel myself tense. If the sickly-sweet sarcasm wasn’t hint enough, the name he used gives away the game. I take a step back as he nears, and it’s a good thing I do, because he swipes at me, painted nails moving through the air just inches from my face. The crazy bitch is literally trying to scratch my eyes out!
“Hey now!” Brian says, trying to insert himself between us.
Not that it helps.
“Stay away from my boyfriend, you fucking slut!” The young man lunges at me, his face twisted up with rage. And somehow he still manages to look pretty. No doubt about it. Tim landed himself a hottie.
“I’mmarried,” I shout back, walking in an arc away from Brian so he doesn’t get caught in the crossfire. “I don’t know what you think is going on—”
“I knowexactlywhat this is!”
Clearly not. “Calm the hell down and listen to me!”
“I don’t take orders from you!” He launches himself toward me again. I keep stumbling backward to avoid him, but the lobby isn’t that big, and it’s just a matter of time before—
