We don’t figure it out. Kane recovers well, consuming more homemade matzo ball soup than I’ve eaten in a lifetime, but weeks go by without any concrete plans to visit Millie.
What about this day?
Tickets are nine hundred dollars.
Don’t you dare spend that much money.
I have back-to-back shows, and I’m on vocal rest that weekend. It won’t be any fun.
“This fucking sucks,” I finally admit to her one evening.
“It does. I’m sorry.”
I breathe deeply, willing the ache in my chest to abate. “I thought it would be easier.”
She exhales. “I did warn you.”
“That’s not helpful.” My tone comes out much harsher than intended. I’m so tired and I miss her.
“That’s not what—I’m just trying to?—”
“I’ll call you later.”
“Ezra…”
“It’s been a long day, and this isn’t working.”
“What?” she gasps. “This isn’t working? Are you breaking up with me?”
My lungs seize, and it takes me a handful of heartbeats to remember how to breathe. “Shit.No. I meantthis conversation. Just… It’s been a long day, and I need to get some rest.”
“But you promised that if things got tough, we’d talk to each other about it.” The pain behind her voice is unmistakable.
“I know. But it’s really late, and I’m tired. I don’t want to say anything I’ll regret.”
“Like what?”
“Millie.Please.” The tag on my shirt brushes across my back like eighty-grit sandpaper. Without thinking, I rip it from the seam.Dammit, that’s another hole.
“Fine.”
“I love you,” I tell her, just as she says “bye” and hangs up.
Fucking great.
43
Millie
MY PERFORMANCE TONIGHT WAS SHIT.Sasha swears it wasn’t, but she’s too nice to tell me the truth. When I wake up, I have zero text messages from Ezra, and when I call him, he doesn’t answer. I text Kane, who informs me his brother went for a run. Nausea consumes me as I waste the entire day waiting for his call. After the matinee performance, I’m greeted with a missed call notification, but the theater is forcing us to clear out of the dressing rooms, so I’ll have to call him later.
It’s a rush to the airport and through security, so when I finally get the opportunity to sit down, I pull out my phone, only to find that it’s dead.
Digging into the side pocket of my carry-on, I locate the external charger Ezra gifted me. I smile to myself, considering whether to actually admit to him just how many times I’ve had to use it.
As I’m waiting for it to charge, Sasha passes me her phone. “Did you see this?”
The headline readsThe Final Curtain Call.
