“Did she follow you around at home?” I asked.
“She was my shadow. She would come sleep on the couch if I was up working, and if she saw me leave the room to take a call, she would cross her arms and look offended if I didn’t invite her to listen.” He let out a short laugh, but he didn’t say anything else.
“Can I ask you something?” I leaned against his chest.
“If I say no I don’t think it’ll stop you…”
“Where do we go from here?”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean…What happens now with us?”
He looked at me, confused. “Us?”
“Are we in a relationship? Are you going to stay with me, or are you going back to Date-Match?”
He stared at me for a long time. “I can’t stay in New York, Aubrey. I think you can understand why…”
“You had no plans to stay past tonight did you?”
“No.”
“And you leave in the morning?”
“Yes.” He tried to kiss my hair, but I moved away. “So, was this some type of way to get your Aubrey fix before you went home? Say all the right things so you can feel better about yourself when you leave?”
“I wanted you to know that I loved you before I went home.”
“And to get some pu**y on the side, of course.”
“Of course.” He smirked, but I didn’t return his smile.
“I told you not to get my hopes up, Andrew.” I stepped back. “And you did it anyway.”
“What do you want me to do, Aubrey? Move in with you? Fucking propose?”
“I want you to stay…And if you can’t stay, I want you to leave…Now.”
“Aubrey…”
“Now,” I said. “We can still be friends, but I don’t want to—”
“Stop.” He pulled me close and pressed his mouth against mine. “We’re more than friends…We always were. I just can’t be with you right now.”
I opened my mouth to protest, but he kissed me again and again, whispering as he cupped my br**sts, “I would really prefer if we spent the rest of night in bed and not arguing…”
Adjourn (v.):
To suspend proceedings: to suspend the business of a court, legislature, or committee indefinitely.
Weeks later…
Aubrey
I stood on my toes backstage—tilting my head toward the ceiling, rehearsing the final move of the production one last time. I should’ve been happy and smiling—overjoyed at the fact that I was about to debut in the leading role in a New York Ballet Company production, but I wasn’t. Far from it.
I felt alone, and I knew no amount of applause or accolades would take those feelings away.
I was still hanging onto my last few moments with Andrew: The early morning sex in the shower, the sex against my door, the sex in the town car on the way to the airport. (And there was also the final romp in the airport’s bathroom…)
He told me that he loved me each time—that he didn’t want to leave me, but he left anyway.
Our relationship was now relegated to talking on the phone every night—recapping our days, getting off on each other’s fantasies in between, but it wasn’t enough. And I knew it wasn’t going to be enough for me for too much longer.
I needed him here.
“Forty minutes everyone!” A stage hand slipped past me. “Places in forty!”
I took a deep breath and walked to a mirror that hung near the wing. Staring at myself, I looked over tonight’s costume—a glimmering white visage that looked like it’d been plucked from a dream: Sparkling crystals adorned every inch of the leotard, the tutu was freshly fluffed and sprayed with glitter, and my feathered headband was far more defined and layered than the one I’d worn in Durham.
“Aubrey?” A familiar voice said from behind.
“Mom?” I spun around. “What are you doing backstage?”
“We wanted to come and tell you good luck in person.” She nodded at my father.
“Thank you…”
“We also want you to know that despite the fact that we still wish you’d pursued law school, we’re very proud of you for pursuing your own dreams.”
I smiled. “Thank you, again.”
“And we are also very, very honored to have you as our daughter because you’re such an inspiration to all the college students who will be heading to the polls in this year’s election—students who have similar dreams and ambitions regarding careers in the arts.”
“What?”
“Did you get all that?” She turned to the reporter behind us who was shutting off his device. “Make sure you use that last part as a sound bite for the next commercial.”
“Seriously?”
“What?” She shrugged. “I meant every word of that, but it’s also good to get it on tape, don’t you think?”
I didn’t bother with a rebuttal.
My father stepped over and hugged me, posing for an unnatural photo-op, but when the photographer walked away he smiled.
“I’m happy for you, Aubrey,” he said. “I think this is where you belong.”