Page 10 of The Orc That Got Away

To make sure he knows what he’s missing, a voice in me says. But it’s not that simple. I’ve certainly had my fun trying to make people jealous of me in the past. I’m a model, not a saint. But there’s something else when it comes to Ragnar. Something I don’t understand.

The designer gives me a thumbs up and I return backstage to stand next to Alan again.

“You doing any better?” he whispers.

I shrug. “It’s nothing,” I tell him, not very convincingly.

He smiles. “You know, if I didn’t know any better, I’d think that you look a little lovesick.”

I glare. That’s absolutely not what this is. Ragnar and I broke up years ago. It was the right choice then and if I had to make it again, I would. I’m not in love with Ragnar.

He just matters to me. For some reason. I just want him to like me.

“Oh, my god!” Alan says, bringing his hands up to cover his mouth. “You are lovesick, aren’t you? Who is it? Do I know him? Who finally brought down the great Bradford?”

“It’s not like that,” I answer, irritatedly. “We used to have a thing, but—”

“Oh no, Bradford’s in love with his ex!” Alan coos. Why did I think telling him that would make him tease me less? “That’s so romantic! You’ve been pining for him all these years!”

“I said it’s not like that!” I whisper, as sharply as I can manage. One of the stage crew looks at me and puts her finger over her mouth.

“Anyway, he isn’t into me, so maybe lay off a little?” I add, quieter.

“Fine, fine,” Alan says. That’s Alan for you. He likes teasing anyone he can get away with, but he does stop if you ask him to.

Okay, maybe part of it is a sort of competitive spirit. When you break up with someone, it’s like you’re saying to them, “I can do better than you.” And so, sure, there’s a part of me that wants to prove Ragnar wrong. A part that was wounded all those years ago when we went our separate ways and is still afraid that maybe Ragnar really did deserve better than me.

It doesn’t help that Ragnar kept the relationship a secret the whole time. Being someone’s boyfriend-that-they-could-have-done-better-than is bad enough. Being thesecretboyfriend they could have done better than is just humiliating.

And that was why I left him all those years ago, wasn’t it? Because the fact that he wanted to keep me secret told me he wasn’t committed to me in the same way I was. I was happy to let everyone know how happy he made me and how much he loved me. He valued his aloof, guarded image too much. He didn’t want anyone to know someone had gotten underneath his armor.

Maybe I’ve picked up a little bit of that myself over the years. There’s a reason Alan thought it was so funny to tease me in particular about falling in love. Because I’ve been pretty careful about that since Ragnar. I’ve had some flings, some one night affairs, but I never wanted to put myself into a situation where I was more in love with someone than they were with me.

Once was enough for that.

The next cue hits. Alan gives me a quick thumbs up and a smile and walks out on stage. I’ll follow him shortly. I start trying to get myself back into the right headset.

It was the right choice, I remind myself. And it was. There’s nothing worse than being a secret. Sure, I understand why Ragnar was so scared of showing tenderness. I know he didn’t get many chances to be soft when he was growing up in that boarding school of his. But I wasn’t made to be hidden away. I was made to be on the stage. I was made to shine.

Alan exits, exactly on time and I go out myself. I’m trying to act like I did the first time, to channel that ease and confidence that had been so effortless. But it isn’t as easy this time. There’s no one who I care about performing to. Just a lot of eyes and faces I don’t know.

I realize that a part of me is hoping Ragnar would come back in. That’s silly. Why would someone fully leave a fashion show and then come back in, two minutes later? Silly or not, I want to believe it’s possible. Looking at that empty spot where he had been standing makes my stomach drop.

I’m feeling nervous and emotional in a way I haven’t since my very first few shows, when I still didn’t know what to expect or whether people would like me. That’s Ragnar for you. Always bringing out the pieces of me I didn’t even know were still there.

Of course, I’m still a professional. I know how to keep walking even when you don’t feel it. I get to the end of the stage, hit a few quick poses. I try not to meet anyone’s eyes and as soon as the music hits, I turn back and walk upstage again.

The moment I’m offstage I slump.

“You really do like that boy, don’t you?” Alan whispers to me.

“I have feelings about him,” I return. “It’s complicated.”

“However complicated it is, you should probably find him, because that walk was night and day from your first one.”

“Hush, you.”

We’re both done for the night, and as soon as I’ve got the outfit off and am back in my own clothes, I drop onto the first chair I see to sit and think. I could use some time to make sense of things.

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