Love's Final Act (Circus of Love Romances Book 3) Read online

  I shook my head, reaching for my phone. Not sure I had the words to explain what I’d read from Simon, I swiped my screen awake, scrolled back to the top of the email, then handed it over. “You read it.”

  Robert took the phone in hand, while he started to lightly rub my foot with the other. It only took a moment or two for the massage to stop, his fingers lay motionless, while his thumb pressed firmly into my arch. Watching from the side profile, I could tell his molars were grinding into one another. I closed my eyes as I tried to recall the words my fiancé was now reading. Not that I wanted to re-live Simon’s sentiments—He’d mentioned the word love—more I was trying to anticipate when Robert would reasonably finished the email.

  “Do you think he was drunk when he wrote this?” Robert settled my phone on my lap, then both of his hands returned to massaging my feet.

  I opened my eyes. “Probably. Why else to someone write such an email at one o’clock in the morning?”

  Robert grunted in response but kept his focus on my toes. “Have you thought about what you’ll write back?”

  “I’m not sure I’m going to.” I continued to watch Robert while he remained fixated on my feet. Did I want him to stop and look at me? A faint feeling of nausea had settled in my stomach since handing Robert my phone. Would it be too much emotionally to have this conversation facing him directly? Would I feel the desire to compare the chiselled jaw and crooked nose in front of me, to the straight narrow nose with glasses perched on top that I’d seen yesterday?

  “I think you should.” Robert paused again, although he continued to look ahead. Apparently neither of us were quite up to facing the other. “He sounds a bit desperate.”

  I blew a huffy, exaggerated breath out my lips as I crossed my arms over my chest. “Why the hell did he propose to his fiancée if he doesn’t want to marry her?”

  Robert shrugged. “If he’s been hanging on to you in his memories, maybe he thought she was his best second option? You said you met her, is she similar in appearance to you, or was there anything about her that might suggest she has similar interests or habits?”

  Once Emily had introduced herself on Friday night I got out of the conversation as fast as I could. I might have spent five minutes in her presence, not enough to judge whether we were long-lost kindred spirits. “She’s a brunette, that’s about all I remember.” And big boobs, but I didn’t need to go there.

  “Right, and you said she was gorgeous.” Robert’s right hand had strayed and was sliding its way up my left leg. “So far you sound pretty similar.”

  “Robert.” I hoisted myself upright on the sectional so that I drew my feet and legs out of his reach. I looked to my fiancé, only to realize that he was facing me, sitting sideways across the cushions. His gaze had settled on my face, and his lips were pressed into a firm line, but the occasional flicker in his jaw told me he was still grinding his teeth. “I would prefer to forget yesterday’s meeting ever happened. It foisted me with feelings I don’t share and added extra noise I don’t need in my life right now.”

  The smallest of smiles crept into the corners of Robert’s lips—possibly relieved to hear me say I didn’t harbour any long-hidden feelings for Simon. “I think you should tell him that at the least. Don’t make the man wonder forever.”

  “I’ll think about it,” I said as I unearthed my cell from the rumpled blankets.

  “Good. Think about it while I make breakfast—what’ll you have?”

  ∞∞∞

  As of our 1:00 pm arrival at the High Flying Circus Club, I hadn’t emailed Simon back. After a lengthy discussion that bordered on argument, I swore to Robert that I would before I went to bed tonight. The phrase ‘because it’s Christmas’ may have been tossed around in support of why it needed to happen and even though I’m not much of a holiday sentimentalist, I’d caved. I told myself as I’d read his messages that I didn’t hate Simon, and if that was the case, I owed him the curtesy of a response. Even if it crushed his last fond memories of me.

  “Beth! McAllister!” Becca bounded over to us, the moment we’d entered the studio. She pulled me into a pythonesque hug before I’d managed to get my jacket off but released me quickly. “I’m so glad you could make it. We can spend the afternoon in a hard training session, then stuff ourselves with Mom’s home cooking tonight.”

  I slid my shoes off at the door but kept my jacket. “I’m looking forward to it—the food and the company.” I said, not untruthfully. It was sure to be a noisy night, but that would help me keep some of my worries at bay for a while.

  “Oh, before you get started, you should come meet Rachel’s boyfriend.” Becca grinned, as she grabbed my hand and towed me toward the back half of the studio where the trapezes were hung.

  I scanned the space for the other twin. Not surprisingly she was already down to work, hanging from a bar, legs glued together, toes pointed, as she performed a series of shoulder warm-ups. Standing on the floor nearby, was a man, tall, with sandy-blond hair tied back into a low ponytail. He was sporting a black technical shirt with orange writing I couldn’t make out, and a pair of loose-fitting black pants. Ostensibly he was also warming up, but as he swung his arms across his chest, he looked around the studio in such a way that it seemed to suggest he wasn’t too sure what he was doing there.

  “Hey, Jake,” Becca said before we’d even covered half the distance to where he stood.

  Jake turned and gave up his pretense of stretching as he moved to join us.

  “Jake, this is our friend Beth Witt. She was in us in the Circus of Height before she switched to teaching for our parents. Beth, this is Jake Talbot, Rachel’s boyfriend. He’s a talent scout for Cirque Celestial.”

  I smiled as I shook hands with Jake. I’d heard some limited stories about how the two had gotten together. Becca had hinted that the summer with the circus had been laden with drama, including Rachel skipping out on the tour for several days, but she’d been uncharacteristically quiet on details. Not that I was hungry for gossip—although I suspected that Rachel had arm-wrestled her sister into silence. In the end, the twins had concluded their tour with Circus of Height a few days ago. Immediately after the wedding they were headed to the Cirque Celestial headquarters in Canada to begin training for their new gig.

  “Nice to meet you,” I said, as I released my grip on Jake.

  “Likewise. Becca certainly talks a lot about you.”

  I laughed. “But not Rachel?” Seeing the hints of a blush creep onto Jake’s face, I continued. “Don’t worry, I don’t mean that as an insult. I know the twins and what each of them are like.”

  “Of course,” Jake rested his hands on his hips. “I suppose anyone who’s been in their presence for ten minutes can start to tell their personalities apart.”

  I nodded as I realized Becca had abandoned me to talk with Robert. I searched my thoughts for a conversation topic. “So, do you do any circus yourself?”

  A quirky half-smile, pulled at Jake’s mouth, as he ran his hand over his hair. “Not really. I have a Masters in kinesiology and spent several years training athletes in a variety of different fields before the opportunity with Cirque Celestial came up.”

  “Cool.” I nodded again. Doing the mental math, Jake must be several years older than the twins, older than me for that matter.

  “Anyway, I don’t want to keep you from your training.” Jake gestured toward the silks hanging behind me. “Even if it’ll postpone Rachel’s intentions to get me up on a trapeze.”

  I glanced over Jake’s shoulder toward the high-rigged trapeze that Rachel was still working on. Now she was hanging on with one hand as she brought her legs up to tap the bar overhead. She had an incredible work ethic—and strength. It was no surprise she’d been recruited to Cirque Celestial.

  “I’m sure we’ll have a chance to talk more tonight at Dehlia and Stephen’s.” I smiled, then jogged away, beginning my warm-up. I had a couple of hours to train hard before being stuffed to the gills with Christ
mas Eve dinner.

  ∞∞∞

  “How are you doing, love?”

  While after dinner coffee and tea were being brewed, I’d snuck away from the dining table. I’d said I needed to go to the bathroom, which I had, but I wasn’t in a hurry to return to the table, I’d wandered to front hall, where if I pressed my face against the glass panes that framed the door, I could look at the nearly full moon hanging high in the sky. The cold glass was comforting to my burning hot cheeks. I’d eaten too much turkey. And stuffing. And I’d lost count of the glasses of wine. That was what Christmas dinner was for, right? Even for circus artists. Eating too much? Dulling my anxiety and frustration over former boyfriends with too much alcohol?

  “I’m okay,” I said. It might have come out more like ‘Mm-kay.

  “You looked a little unbalanced when you got up.” Robert pressed against me and wrapped his arms around my waist.

  He was hot, as always. Not visually hot—he was that—but temperature hot, and with his body so close I could feel sweat start to collect in the small of my back. “Too hot,” I said as I dug my elbows into Robert’s rock-hard stomach.

  “Oh, love.” Robert stepped away from me, then circled around so he was in front of me. He took my hand in his. “I think you’ve had a bit too much tonight.”

  I closed my eyes, as I pressed my cheek so hard into the glass that I could feel my teeth dig into the inside of my mouth. “Mm.” I hadn’t been counting the glasses. It didn’t help that Dehlia offered to top my wine up every time it fell under half-full.

  “Oh, Beth, I was hoping I could catch you before you go.”

  A new body joined us in the front hall, but not one that was overly familiar to me. The voice…I could place it if I thought about it for a moment. It was Talbot—no, that wasn’t it—Jake. Rachel’s new boyfriend. I forced my left eye open followed by the right. I looked but didn’t move. He stood under the archway that connected the vestibule with the hall that led to the rest of the house. He seemed to be swaying slightly, or was that me? His hands were jammed in the pockets of his jeans.

  “Yeah?” I kept half of my face pressed to the glass.

  Jake stood himself tall, as he scratched at the back of his neck. “Sorry, is this a bad time?”

  “Beth’s just had—”

  “It’s fine. I’m fine,” I said, cutting Robert off. He was right. I was drunk. I’d let my glass be refilled over and over because I didn’t want to think about that early morning email from Simon. If he’d written to me after a night of drinking, then I should be able to return the favour?

  Jake looked at me, then Robert. He smoothed down the front of his button-up shirt, then returned his hands to his pockets. “Sorry, I know it’s Christmas Eve, but I’m headed to my parents’ tomorrow afternoon until the thirtieth, then back to Cirque Celestial headquarters right after your wedding, so this is the one chance I’ve got. Beth, if you’re be interested, I’d like to invite you to an audition for Cirque. It’s invite-only, and it’s at the end of January.”

  “Me?” I turned and pressed my back to the door, trying to stand as tall as I could without losing my balance—and to not look like the desperate mess I felt like.

  “I was watching you while you were training today—sorry, I hope that’s not creepy, it’s an occupational hazard when I’m in any kind of gym or studio. There’s a new touring show in the works, and you might be a good fit for it.” Jake removed his wallet from his pocket, flipped it open, and held his business card out to me.

  “Touring show?” My thoughts were trying to fight their way through the alcohol fog that had built up around my brain. I gasped onto small pieces of information one at a time.

  “I can’t say too much about it since it’s still in production, but they’re looking at an opening date in late summer or early fall.” Jake smiled as he gestured again with the card.

  He hadn’t said anything about Robert, had he? Just me? I didn’t want to get married, then immediately separate us.

  Jake’s arm sagged, along with the corners of his mouth. Had anyone ever refused his offer for an audition before? “Sorry, my timing could be better. Maybe take my card and think about it? As long as you get back to me by January tenth.”

  Robert reached forward and snagged the card. “No worries. Thanks so much. We—Beth, definitely Beth—will have to think about it.”

  Chapter 6

  We didn’t talk as Robert drove home, but something was on his mind, and I assumed it was the invitation from Jake. Was it the lack of invitation for him as well? Or the idea that we could be separated for months or longer? Both? He’d seemed to have settled quickly into the life of a full-time instructor. I wasn’t in a state to push the matter. That and I worried if I did, it would eventually circle around to Simon, who I didn’t much care to discuss either.

  I made it home awake, despite my inebriated and emotionally exhausted state, and I was only a little unsteady as I walked from the car to the door. Regardless, Robert kept a firm hand on my back as we mounted the stairs to our apartment and ensured that I drank a big glass of water before I crawled underneath our comforter. Between helping me safely into bed and the audition invitation, Robert seemed to have forgotten how he’d insisted that I write Simon tonight.

  Evidently my subconscious hadn’t. A little after midnight, Christmas morning, I woke up with the sense of something heavy weighing on my mind. At first, I thought my vestibular system was still off-kilter from multiple glasses of wine, but after lying quietly and focusing on my breathing for a few moments I realized it wasn’t a sense of the room spinning. It was a sense of unfinished business, or even guilt, chipping away at my peace of mind. I now had two men waiting for me to give them a reply—it was a small mercy that the nature of what they were looking for from me were vastly different.

  I sat up cautiously, pausing halfway to make sure I was, in fact steady. When no gyroscopic sensations hit me forcing me to retreat to my pillows, I swung my legs over the side of the bed. I groped through the pile of books on my bedside table for my phone as I ran my other hand across the floor, searching for where I’d flung off my hoodie before getting into bed. Once I located both objects, I slipped out of the bedroom. I paused in the kitchen for a glass of water before retreating to the sectional. Proper hydration would improve my mindset and increase the chance I wouldn’t suffer through Christmas morning with a hangover.

  Wrapped in a cocoon of blankets, and bolstered by a glass of cold water, I flipped to Simon’s last message, forcing myself to re-read it before I began to sort out my reply… If you’re truly happy with your choices, then I won’t interfere—I wouldn’t do that to you. But, if there’s any lingering regret, any uncertainty, any chance for me, I want to take it.

  Please, let me know, either way. No matter what.

  In the broadest sense I wasn’t truly happy. Life in Northboro wasn’t perfect, but I wasn’t questioning who I’d chosen to spend my life with. How could Simon have harboured feelings for me over the last seven years and never reached out before? I stared at my phone, thumbs hovering over the screen. What was I supposed to write? I couldn’t imagine there was any way to craft a response that would lessen the blow if he truly…loved…me. Damn it. I was too close to sober to do this.

  After wasting nearly half an hour watching Internet videos, I returned to my email. It was nearly one. I needed to get this over with, or I might never get back to sleep tonight. I closed my eyes for a moment, breathing slowly and deeply through my nose. Be polite but get to the point. Do it.

  Simon,

  I received your email. It caught me off guard, so I needed some time to think—not about how I wanted to respond, but how to say the following as kindly as possible.

  Honestly, I haven’t thought much about you since breaking up. You were a great friend, but our paths have led us in different directions. Many people who knew me in high school have a hard time understanding how my goals could change so drastically, but they did. I don’t
regret leaving law school. Circus life has its own joys that I find highly rewarding—one of them being it brought my fiancé into my life.

  Robert is a wonderful man. I won’t say something trite like ‘I’m sure you’d like him.’ I honestly don’t know if you would, and it doesn’t matter. I hope you can either find a way to be content with Emily or find a way to end your engagement without hurting her.

  If you can’t put this matter behind you, please don’t contact me again. I don’t want to have to repeatedly shut you down. I’d prefer to you remember you as my friend, even as the sweet boy I had my first kiss with, not the annoying guy who couldn’t take a hint.

  Sincerely,

  Beth.

  I read my reply over two, three times, to make sure it was clear and concise—as many former English teachers had drilled into me. Satisfied that it was the best I could do at one o’clock in the morning—or at any time in the day, frankly—I hit send, then switched off my screen. I burrowed deeper into my blankets but didn’t fall asleep. I didn’t even close my eyes. I looked around our apartment, most of which I could see from my spot on the sectional.

  The house was well maintained, but we were renters of the second-floor apartment. Our furniture was entirely second hand. Good for the environment, but not exactly the décor choices I’d imagined for myself in high school. I’d planned to have a penthouse suite, in which everything was shiny and sleek, drive a BMW or a Mercedes, and vacation in various European cities. I’d be lying to myself if I didn’t admit I harboured a little regret—mostly I longed for the ability to buy new things every now and again without carefully reviewing my bank account first. I didn’t miss the grind that I would have had to put up with if I’d gone through law school and pursued a partnership in a big law firm somewhere.

  Deep in my core, I loved being suspended in the air on a pair of silks. I loved moving to music, I loved inspiring and dazzling members of my audience. The toned body and the chance to paint my face with glitter were okay too. Even if Northboro wasn’t the right location for us to settle, it didn’t mean we couldn’t start to look about ourselves for other opportunities. I’d been given a chance to audition for Cirque Celestial, to be in a show that hopefully wasn’t run by a total tyrant.