Page 84 of For My Finale
Blossom pressed her hand against her chest, like she could physically keep her heart from breaking through her skin right there in the wings of the stage.
Lilah took a step forward. “I thought I was protecting someone I love,” she continued, her voice clear and strong. “But I was protecting myself. Because I was scared.”
Blossom couldn’t move, couldn’t think. This wasn’t happening. This couldn’t be happening. Not here in front of the entire village. But Lilah wasn’t done.
“I thought I was brave. I thought I was strong. But I was wrong.” Lilah’s gaze was locked on Blossom’s now, her voice shaking only slightly. “I hate feeling vulnerable. I hate letting anyone in. But I understand now that if I want to love someone, truly love them, then I have to let them in, let everything in.”
The audience was deathly silent. There wasn’t a whisper, wasn’t a cough, just eyes watching, waiting, devouring the scene as it played out.
“Forgive me for being a coward,” Lilah said. She held out her arms.
Blossom’s vision blurred. She was vaguely aware of a hand on her back. Ives perhaps, or Daisy. She gulped in a deep breath, felt the tears hot in her eyes. And then Lilah was opening her arms and Blossom did the only thing she could, the only thing she wanted to do, the only possible move there was to make.
She ran onto the stage and into Lilah’s arms.
The moment she crossed the stage, the crowd gasped and then erupted into cheers. It didn’t matter though, none of it mattered. The only thing that did matter was Lilah, the way Lilah’s arms closed around her the second Blossom touched her, the way Lilah held on to her so tightly that Blossom thought she might never let her go.
And then Lilah kissed her.
Blossom’s universe narrowed down to the press of Lilah’s lips, the warmth of her hands, the way everything else, fear and doubt and the past, all melted away. The crowd was clapping and cheering, but it was nothing more than a distant hum in Blossom’s ears.
Lilah pulled back just enough to whisper, “I love you.”
Blossom let out a shaky breath, pressing their foreheads together. “I love you too,” she whispered back.
???
The village hall was empty, the last of the chairs stacked,the final whispers of applause fading into memory. The air still carried the scent of dust and makeup and paint. Lilah sat on the edge of the stage, her feet dangling just above the floor, Blossom beside her, head on her shoulder, their fingers twined together.
The warmth of Blossom’s hand in hers steadied her, grounded her. No cameras, no scripts, no expectations. Just them.
Lilah exhaled, glancing sideways at Blossom. “I owe you an apology.”
“For declaring your love for me on stage in front of literally everyone I know?” Blossom asked.
“Yes,” Lilah said, with a smile. “But also for running, for leaving, for being a coward, for making you doubt that what I felt for you was real.”
Blossom squeezed her hand. “You’re here now though.”
Lilah swallowed. She had to be honest. She had to be open. “I don’t know what the future holds, Blossom. I don’t know if I’ll ever act again, or if I’ll stay in this little village forever, or… or be hit by a bus tomorrow. But I do know that I love you, and I want you to be by my side, whatever happens.”
“There’s no bus service in the village,” Blossom said. “So you’re probably safe on that front.” She looked down. “But I know what you’re saying, I think.”
“I mean it,” said Lilah. “I’ve spent my whole life chasing something, fame, success, recognition. None of it ever felt as solid, as important, as real, as you do. But I can’t guarantee that life will always be quiet or easy. No matter how much I might want it to be.”
Blossom let out a small laugh. “Lilah, I will punch the tabloid journalists, I’ll go head to head with that agent of yours, if that’s what you need. As long as you’re right there, I don’t care.”
“Uh-huh,” Lilah chuckled. “And where is all this confidence coming from?”
“From you,” Blossom said, shifting closer so that their knees touched. “You make me believe in myself, Lilah. I don’t know how, but you do. It’s an effect that you have on me.”
Something in Lilah’s chest tightened. An ache of regret for allthe time she’d wasted, for every moment that she’d let fear get in the way. She brushed her thumb against the back of Blossom’s hand. “I want to be me. And I want to be with you.”
“Good,” Blossom said. “Because I’ve wanted to be with you for as long as I can remember.”
Lilah arched an eyebrow. “So now you’re admitting to having a teenage crush complete with posters on your bedroom wall?”
“Maybe,” said Blossom. “But I do know that that wasn’t the real you. Those were pictures of the Hollywood version of you. This is the real Lilah, right here, right now.”
