They were all excited for Leah. “You are so going to Hollywood, girl!” one of the crew shouted at the strike party, which prompted an eruption of cheers for her.
Leah felt so alive—she couldn’t imagine even sleeping again, much less coming down from the exhilaration. And there, across the room, leaning against a column, was the man of her dreams. He was nursing a drink, watching her as she flitted from group to group, saying farewell, accepting warm wishes and accolades from people who had become her friends.
Michael seemed nervous, Leah thought gaily. Like a man on the verge of a life-changing event. He was usually the life of the party, famous for making men laugh and women swoon—he was always flirting—but tonight, he kept to himself, his eyes on her.
He was going to ask her. She just knew he was, and she was floating in anticipation of the moment, buoyed by the knowledge that he was The One.
Later, when Michael caught her by the elbow, kissed her cheek and said, “It’s getting late . . . do you think we could talk?” she beamed at him.
She grabbed her coat, kissed everyone good-bye, laughed at their calls for her to find a place in her new TV show for them, and left on Michael’s arm.
He took her to a coffee shop at the corner, which she thought was odd—but it didn’t matter where he asked her. The important thing was that he loved her.
He sat across from her, his penny-copper eyes dark as he gazed at the orchids she was taking home. “You were wonderful tonight,” he said. “You’re going to be a huge star.”
“Oh God, I don’t know,” Leah said sheepishly. “I hope so.”
“You are,” he said adamantly, and reached for her hand. “You’re great, Leah. Everyone who meets you recognizes your talent. You will be very successful.”
“Wow,” she said, still beaming. “That’s so sweet of you to say.”
He smiled, too, but it was a strange smile—a smile like he was dying. “You’re going to be so successful that you won’t need me.”
“Oh, Michael!” Leah laughed. If only he knew that she worried she’d lose him. “I do need you,” she assured him. “I will always need you. You’re my rock.”
He sighed and withdrew his hand, then gripped the edge of the table so tightly that his knuckles were white, and Leah’s belly did a strange little flip. “What I’m trying to say is that you really don’t need anyone—you’re great all on your own. The world is your oyster.”
“Well maybe,” she said with a smile, “but I don’t want to be alone.”
“But you will be, baby . . . because I’m leaving.”
Leah laughed. “I know. We talked about that this morning, remember?”
He looked absolutely miserable. “But this time, I’m not coming back,” he added quietly.
Something thick and hard snapped inside Leah. Her mind couldn’t process the words, but her heart was reeling. “What do you mean, you’re not coming back? That’s silly,” she said with a flick of her wrist.
“Leah . . . I’m ending it,” he said, his voice depressingly soft.
“Ending it?” she repeated dumbly. “Ending it! Ending us? But . . . but why?” she asked as panic started to rise in her.
He looked away, shoved two hands through his hair. “My job,” he said simply. “It doesn’t leave room for a . . . a significant other.”
This could not be happening. This could not be happening! She loved him. She adored him, and he’d just chopped the legs out from beneath her. She couldn’t seem to find her balance, a center where she could even absorb the words he was saying, much less understand them. “Just like that?” she asked him breathlessly. “No warning, no indication? We made love today, Michael! What, is this about the Hollywood thing?”
“God, no,” he said, shaking his head. “No, Leah I want that for you. I want you to go on and be as great as I know you are.”
“But . . .” She surged forward, reached for his hand. “But Michael, we have a great relationship. Why would you do this? Why would you hurt me like this? I don’t understand.”
He grimaced. “I don’t want to hurt you. I never wanted to hurt you. In all honesty, I should never have entered this relationship in the first place. I’m not the kind of guy to settle down, and I knew, I . . .” He paused there, seemed to be searching for words. “I’m sorry, Leah,” he said again. “I am leaving for Austria in the morning. I’ll be gone indefinitely.”
The words fell like rocks between them, each one heavier than the last. Yet Leah could not believe it. She could not believe that nine months of a blossoming, fantastic relationship, that was, by all accounts, a match made in heaven, was ending so abruptly with no warning, no clue. It was a blindsided blow. “I don’t get it,” she said, as tears began to well in her eyes. “I thought we were so good together. I had no idea there was anything wrong—”