CHAPTER THIRTEEN
OWEN threw himself into work. He worked and worked and worked. And every minute of the day he thought about Bella. Missed her. Wondered what the hell she was doing—where she was, who she was with, whether she was happy, whether she was missing him. And then he worked some more.
He hadn’t thought he had it in him to be so aware of another person. To be driven to meet their needs—to put someone before himself. He’d been so ignorant of his parents’ situation, so wrapped up in himself and his ideals and ideas. Only now he saw how they and Liz had tainted his view of marriage and children.
He hadn’t been in love with Liz. He’d never been in love with anyone until now. So of course back then he hadn’t been ready for a child. The baby-that-wasn’t hadn’t ever seemed real to him, it had simply been the symbol of a burden he hadn’t wanted then and thought he’d never want.
Now he knew that if Bella’s child had been real he would have loved it—because now he knew what it was to love and how uncontrollable love could be.
When Liz had turned on him and told him how lonely he’d end up, he hadn’t believed her. He’d never felt lonely. Too busy with his work. Too busy out partying when the need for physical company bit. He’d thought he had it all sussed.
Until now. Now he felt as lonely as it was possible to feel. And it hurt so badly he didn’t know if he’d ever recover—he could only try to get used to it somehow.
He supposed it served him right. That the woman he’d found he was able to love wasn’t one who needed it. The timing was all wrong. Her career was just starting. She was finally getting to where she’d wanted to be for so long. And he refused to ruin it for her. He didn’t want her to resent him.
It was so ironic that when he finally found someone he wanted to care about, to love and cherish, help and protect, she was someone who was determined not to need those things. Bella didn’t want help; she didn’t want his money. She wanted independence. She’d said it, at the end there, that she needed to do this by herself. She was looking for respect. Trying to fight her family for it, fight him, every step of the way. But couldn’t she see there was a balance? He couldn’t stand back and watch her futile efforts when there were ways in which he could help. Maybe the way it had ended was all for the best.
Like hell it was.
As the days progressed, so his anger rose. Screw this true hero thing. It was a con. There was no happiness in nobility—not this sort. He should never have let her go, at least, not without him. She’d tipped his world upside down and then walked out, leaving him in a hell of a mess. Damn it, his wanting to help her wasn’t because he thought she was incapable; it was about him simply wanting to support her. No one was truly independent—not even him.
And there he’d been worried he’d get bored with one person for life. He laughed, a bitter, self-mocking laugh. What an arrogant jerk. No one could ever be bored around Bella.
She was full of life—a little kooky perhaps, most definitely a touch accident-prone. But she was also true and sweet and generous and funny. He wanted the warmth she had to offer. And he didn’t want to ever give it up.
He couldn’t stop the emotion from flowering in him. She was his own magic fairy—she’d brought back his humanity, his humility, his hope. And he wanted to keep her by his side for ever. He chuckled. So he was still selfish. He was about to make his most selfish move ever.
The rehearsal weeks flew by. Bella had never worked so hard in all her life. They rehearsed all day and halfway through the evening. After that she collapsed into her little single bed in the tiny overcrowded flat that she was sharing with three other cast members and tried to sleep. Tried not to feel cold and lonely. But it was only when she closed her eyes tight and imagined herself in his big warm bed that she managed to drift off to sleep. In that blissful moment just on waking she’d still think she was there with him, but then she’d open her eyes and remember.
The work was full on but fun. She was glad she’d done all those years of dancing as a kid. Costumes were made, the set was designed, affairs were begun, gossip was spread. It was the mad, bad, bitchy world of musical theatre. She kept her distance from the worst of it. She learnt her part, understudied the other and developed an unhealthy obsession with the Internet. There was a lot on him—had she known she’d have looked sooner. But there was his website and a ton of articles about the savvy young entrepreneur. One of them had an accompanying picture of him in jeans and tee, totally looking like the relaxed guy she’d met that first night.
She couldn’t indulge in her usual fix of chocolate, ice cream and red wine without thinking of him, couldn’t eat her muesli at odd times of the day, couldn’t even have a coffee. Everywhere she turned, everything she did, she thought of him. But worst of all were the nights. When in her lonely, little bed she lay restless, remembering every moment, every move, every touch, every tease.
She worked harder, longer, not wanting her silly heart to ruin this time for her.
There was nothing, no contact from him, just as she’d requested. And she forced that stupid, still sparking hope inside to shrink—day by day.
Opening night was upon her before she knew it. Nerves threatened to swamp her. But as she put on her make-up the security guy came and delivered the most beautiful bunch of flowers to her. There was no note other than her name. No hint of who they might have come from. The speed of her pulse quadrupled. Were they from him? She got through the show on a buzz of adrenalin and bubbling hope. Was he out there—in the audience?
Afterwards she joined in the laughter and excitement of the others, then scurried back to her dressing room, changing into her opening-night party outfit. There was a knock at the door. Heart thundering, she opened it.
‘Dad! Vita!’ Her jaw dropped. ‘It’s you.’
‘We wouldn’t miss it for the world.’ Vita threw her arms around her.
‘I didn’t think you even knew.’ Bella emerged from the hug and looked from her father to her sister.
‘Well, we wouldn’t have if it was down to you.’ Vita gave her a sharp look.
She hadn’t thought they’d be that interested. Not that she was about to admit that to them.
‘Did you get the flowers?’ her father asked almost shyly.
‘They were from you?’ she asked in the wobbliest voice ever.
Her father nodded. ‘Vita chose them.’
Her sister smiled at her.
Bella smiled back. She shouldn’t feel disappointed. It was wonderful of them to have sent them. It was even more wonderful that they’d been here for her. But she’d wanted to believe they’d been from Owen. Crushed, she forced out a smile. Her best acting job of the night was required after the performance.
‘We’re coming again when you get to Auckland,’ her father said unexpectedly.
Vita nodded enthusiastically. ‘To a matinee when you’re playing the lead. All the brothers are coming too. We’ve booked out a whole block of seats.’
Bella failed on the smile front then, bent her head to hide the sudden tears that were stinging her eyes. She blinked a few times. ‘How did you know about that?’
‘Someone sent us the details.’ Her father spoke.
‘Oh?’
‘Owen sent an email to the whole family,’ Vita said.
‘What?’ But there was no time for a repeat—now that her father had started talking, it seemed he couldn’t stop.
‘You were great up there, honey. I was so proud.’ He beamed. ‘Your mother would have loved it.’
She couldn’t hide the tears then, and her father awkwardly put his arm around her, offering her a comfort she hadn’t had in years.
Vita and Bella sat while their dad went up to the counter to get drinks at the after show party.
‘You know, I’ve always been a bit jealous of you.’ Vita smiled. ‘Now I’m a lot.’
Nonplussed, Bella just stared at her for a moment. ‘You want to be onstage?’
Vita laughed. ‘No!’ She shook her head. ‘All that make-up would play havoc with my skin,’ she joked. ‘No, it was because you always seemed so confident. You didn’t give a damn about what the rest of us were doing, or what Dad thought you should do. You just knew what you wanted and went for it. You’ve got such determination.’
‘You’ve got to be kidding me.’ Bella nearly choked. ‘It’s not like that at all.’
‘But you’ve always known what you wanted,’ Vita said. ‘I’ve never known. I only did commerce because it was what everyone else had done and they seemed to do OK.’
Yes, but the fantasy of what Bella had wanted and the reality weren’t panning out to be quite the same thing. ‘Is it OK?’ she asked her sister.
‘Yeah, but I’m not exactly passionate about it.’ Vita winked. ‘Spreadsheets and tax returns aren’t exactly something you live for.’ She laughed. ‘Whereas you have a job you love. I’m envious of that. But—’ she leant forward ‘—I’ve got a secret. I’m quitting accountancy and I’m opening my own café.’
‘You’re what?’ Bella was astounded. ‘Vita, do you know how hard it is to work in a café?’
‘Sure.’
‘What does Hamish say?’
Vita’s eyes glowed. ‘He’s really supportive. It’s because of him that I’m finally going to do it. I’m doing a catering course and then I’m opening up. He’s keeping an eye out for a good location now. He’s such a great guy, Bella.’
‘I know.’ Bella nodded. ‘Wow. That’s really cool. Good for you.’
‘I’d never have had the guts if I didn’t have you as an example, though.’
Bella nearly laughed. If only her sister knew. It had only been because of Owen that she’d got the part. He’d made her so mad. Worst of all he’d been right. But she couldn’t think of him any more. ‘Thanks so much for coming to the show. And for bringing Dad. I really appreciate it.’
‘It was Owen who organised it. What’s happening with him anyway?’
‘Oh, nothing,’ Bella answered shortly, really not wanting to dwell on him. ‘We’re just friends.’
Vita giggled. ‘As if. The two of you the night before my wedding? My God, you had the place steaming up so bad there was practically water running down the walls.’
Bella felt her cheeks blaze.
‘He’s very good-looking,’ Vita said. ‘And very successful.’
‘What do you know about him?’ She couldn’t stop her curiosity.
‘Bella—’ Vita shook her head ‘—if you were remotely clued in to the real world like the rest of us you’d know too. He made squillions when he sold his web stuff to that multimedia conglomerate.’ She looked sly. ‘How did the two of you meet anyway?’
Bella shook her head. She sure didn’t want to go there. ‘It was nothing. It’s over. This was just him being nice.’
‘I don’t think a guy like Owen would be organising your family for you if it was over—he wouldn’t want us getting the wrong idea.’
‘I haven’t spoken to him in weeks. Trust me, it’s over.’ This last gesture was just the way he worked, charming to the end, still helping her out. Only now she was trying even harder to forget the heat in that final kiss, trying to stop wondering what might have happened if she hadn’t got the part, if she hadn’t left town.
Thankfully her father was heading to the table carrying a tray laden with glasses and nibbles. Talk returned to the show and the tour.
She got to the theatre early as usual the next day.
‘This parcel arrived for you last night too—sorry I didn’t get it to you sooner.’ The security guy at the theatre door collared her as she made her way in.
‘Oh, that’s fine,’ she answered, heart hammering as she recognised the handwriting on the packet, trying not to snatch the thing out of his hands. She hurried to her dressing room, ripped the end of the bag and tipped the contents out.
A soft toy tiger bounced onto the table. She picked up the plush creature. There was a small card on a ribbon around his neck. She read it. ‘Break a leg.’
She didn’t need her leg breaking as well, thanks very much. She already had a broken heart. That was more than enough. She tipped the bag upside down and shook it again. Nothing else. No other message. It wasn’t even signed. There was no return address on the back.
Bastard. She tossed the tiger across the room. She’d asked him not to contact her, all the while been hoping he would and now he had and with what—a damn toy? For the child he thought she was? She’d wanted more—she’d wanted so much more. This almost felt worse than nothing.
Almost. She frowned at the tiger. Why had she thought that he’d taken her seriously? But for about five minutes there he’d really seemed to want to believe in her and her party business. Hell, he’d even offered to help her paint a jungle mural on his warehouse wall, for heaven’s sake.
So what did he mean by this? She was too scared to try to figure it out and too stupid not to start hoping some more.
The tiger seemed to be looking at her reproachfully. She rolled her eyes. It was a toy, for goodness’ sake. Inanimate. Stuffed. The reproachful look deepened.
‘Oh, all right, then.’ She stomped over to it. ‘Stop making me feel so guilty.’ She picked him up, fingers automatically smoothing his fur. ‘Don’t think you’re sleeping in my bed, though.’
The nights started to blur together. After the excitement of the opening, the thrill of the first reviews, they settled into the performances, tried not to get stale. And the reality of her new life hit her.
She was lonely. The show lasted nearly two hours. The applause lasted maybe ten minutes at the most. There was no real contact or interaction with the audience. The cast and crew were fabulous, fun. They were a kind of family. But she couldn’t quite get into it. Why was it that things were never quite how you imagined they would be?
Early in the mornings that followed, she snuggled deeper into her bed, hugged Tiger that little bit closer, and dreamed.