Farah could feel Courtney’s eyes boring into the back of her head from the row behind. She resisted the urge to squirm, focusing instead on the opera unfolding before them. Puccini’sMadame Butterflyhad never felt quite so tragic.
As Cio-Cio San’s heartbreaking aria filled the air, Farah felt a gentle touch on her shoulder. She turned to look behind her only to find Lucien leaning close, his breath warm against her ear.
“Beautiful, isn’t it?” he murmured. “Though not as beautiful as present company.”
Farah’s cheeks flamed. She was acutely aware of Rockwell stiffening beside her, of Courtney’s sharp intake of breath. “Yes, quite,” she managed to reply, her voice barely above a whisper.
The rest of the first act passed in a blur of music and mounting tension. When the curtain finally fell for intermission, Farah felt as though she might snap from the strain.
“Farah…” Courtney’s voice rang out, overly bright, “would you accompany me to the ladies’ retiring room?”
Farah nodded, grateful for the excuse to escape. As she rose, she caught Rockwell’s concerned gaze. She gave him a small, reassuring smile before following Courtney out of the box.
The ladies’ retiring room was mercifully empty when they arrived. Courtney immediately rounded on Farah, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears.
“What’s going on, Farah?” she demanded, her voice trembling. “Is there…is there something between you and Lucien?”
Farah’s heart clenched at the pain in her friend’s voice. “No, Courtney, I swear it. There’s nothing between us.”
Courtney’s lower lip quivered. “But I’ve seen the way he looks at you. The way he leaned in to whisper in your ear. He never looks at me that way anymore. He is so reserved and awkward with me. It’s as if he feels obligated, and I don’t want that for him, or me.”
“Oh, Courtney.” Farah reached out, taking her friend’s hands in hers. “Lucien is…confused. He’s latching onto familiarity, that’s all. You know I would never…”
“But that’s just it”—Courtney interrupted, a tear slipping down her cheek—“I know nothing anymore. The man I loved, the man I mourned for five years, is sitting right there in that box and yet he might as well be a stranger. And now he’s looking at my best friend the way he used to look at me.”
Farah felt her own eyes welling up. “I’m so sorry, Courtney. I can’t imagine how difficult this must be for you.”
Courtney pulled away, pacing the small room. “Is he interested in you, Farah? Be honest with me, please. I need to know.”
Farah hesitated, torn between honesty and the desire to protect her friend’s feelings. “I…I think he might be,” she admitted softly. “But Courtney, you must believe me when I say I have no interest in him. My heart belongs to Rockwell.”
Courtney stopped pacing, turning to face Farah with red-rimmed eyes. “And what if Lucien decides his heart belongs to you? What am I supposed to do then?”
The raw anguish in Courtney’s voice broke something inside Farah. She crossed the room in two quick strides, enveloping her friend in a tight embrace.
“Then we’ll face it together,” she whispered fiercely. “You’re my dearest friend, Courtney. Nothing and no one will ever change that. If Lucien can’t see what an amazing woman you are, then he doesn’t deserve you. But I’m sure if you give him time, he’ll see the woman he fell in love with.”
Courtney clung to Farah, her body shaking with silent sobs. “I just want him to remember me,” she whispered brokenly. “To remember us. Is that too much to ask?”
She had to lie. It was too much to ask, because Farah doubted Lucien would ever remember. Farah stroked Courtney’s hair, her own tears falling freely now. “It’s not too much at all,” she soothed. It appeared lying came so easily now. “And who knows? Maybe his memories will return. But even if they don’t, that doesn’t mean you can’t build new ones together.”
Courtney pulled back slightly, wiping at her eyes. “You really think so?”
Farah nodded, managing a watery smile. “I do. The Lucien I’ve come to know may not remember his past, but he’s stillkind and honorable. Give him time, Courtney. Can you imagine what it’s like for him? To have all these people around him who say they know him, but he cannot remember. That is why he’s become a bit fixated on me. I helped him in his hour of need and he feels safe with me. He doesn’t have to pretend. I know his story and I’ve accepted him and his daughter.”
Courtney nodded and dried her eyes. “I’ll have patience. But if he and you want to be together…”
“I don’t want him like that, Courtney. Be patient. Let him get to know you again. And in the meantime, I’ll do everything in my power to discourage any misplaced affections.”
Courtney let out a shaky laugh. “What would I do without you, Farah?”
“Let’s hope you never have to find out,” Farah replied, giving her friend another squeeze. “Now, what do you say we fix our faces and go show those gentlemen what they’re missing?”
As they turned to the mirror, repairing the damage done by their tears, Farah caught Courtney’s eye in the reflection. “I love you, you know,” she said softly. “No man will ever come between us. I promise.”
Courtney’s smile, though tremulous, was genuine. “I love you, too. Thank you for being my friend and being honest with me.”
Arm in arm, they made their way back to the box, their bond stronger than ever despite the emotional storm brewing. As they took their seats, Farah caught Rockwell’s questioning glance. She gave him a subtle nod, silently communicating that all was well.
