Page 24 of Come to Me
This could be real. I could be on Broadway. In a fucking classic.
I could be the star.
Luke watches me, his eyes hopeful. "You like it?"
I nod stupidly.
He really wants me to do it. Maybe I should be annoyed--he's trying to convince me despite his earlier promise--but I'm not.
I love it.
He wants me to do this. He's willing to do the work.
Maybe... if we're both willing to work at it. Maybe we can get through six months.
"Ally, if you don't say anything I'm going to think you hate it."
"I love it," I whisper.
"Really?" His eyes light up. He's so excited for me. "So will you take the part?"
"It's such a long time," I hedge.
"Fuck, we can do it. Look at how much we've been able to get through."
He's not wrong about that. But...
"I'm not even sure I can survive six months in New York, alone. I'm not that far along in recovery."
"You've been doing amazing with your recovery. I think you can do it."
I shake my head. New York City is the land of temptation. There's a trigger food on every fucking block. I've been in recovery for my bulimia for almost two years now, but I've had help. "I don't know if I can do it without you."
He slides his hand along my cheek. "I think you can. You're not giving yourself enough credit. It's going to be difficult, but we'll get through it."
I grip his hand, holding it there.
"But what if we can't? I'm not willing to risk this relationship. Not even for Broadway."
"Trust me," he murmurs. "You're everything to me. Everything that matters. We'll make sure we check in, stay as connected as possible." He brushes my hair behind my ears, glancing at the gift. "You look so excited. You want to take the part, don't you?"
I have to admit it. It's too obvious.
Clearly, nobody is buying my act anyway.
"Yeah."
"So do it. I want you to do whatever will make you happy."
Maybe... I can.
Oh my God.
I nod, filling up with the almost painful excitement I wasn't allowing myself to truly feel.
My head is bursting with visions of how it'll be--my name on the marquee, standing on stage to a standing ovation, Luke visiting me in my tiny little New York apartment.
But I still can't quite shake some other images too--lonely nights alone, missed calls, ignored texts.
