Page 140 of Turnabout Is Fair Cosplay
“We’d live happily ever after. I’d follow you up to LA for work. On the weekends, we’d come back here to La Jolla. In the summers, we’d bounce around with the festivals.”
“Come on, Bea. Give me more credit. You love having a home, your own space. You’d hate the nomad existence.”
“I would not.” I join him on the couch once again, lifting his arms to wrap them around me. “I would delight in all the forced proximity that would push what we have into something even hotter.”
“Because sofa beds and no door for privacy is super hot.” He gives me a squeeze and a quick kiss on the top of my head before pulling away.
“Mike, you could do anything.”
“No. That’s the point,” he says, rising. “And I can’t be serious with anyone who doesn’t understand that I’m not going to save lives in the ER. I’m not going to argue nonstop until my client gets what they’re due. I’m not going to catch bad guys or fight fires. I’m going to act. I’m going to keep telling Shakespeare’s stories.” He’s pacing in front of the big window. “This is why I’m here. This is what I have to contribute.” He runs a hand through his hair. “I love you. I think about you… And I’ve thought about us. I’m not going to drag you into this. You deserve more than I can give. You want a home. You want weekends watchingStarship Cruiserand weekdays reading. You don’t want tobe dragged across the country to chase the next Shakespeare festival.”
“You could be more. You could be in film, streamed—”
“I like the stage, Bea,” Mike says, sinking back onto the sofa.
“More than me? Oh my gosh, are you breaking up with me?”
“Of course not.” He pulls me in for a hug. “I’m sorry. I’m bad at this. I heard the boyfriend label and panicked about a future that will work itself out in its own time.”
Work itself out? The way my career in corporate law worked itself out? I don’t like the sound of that.
Chapter 42
I may not be a sensitive, introspective, artist type, but I’m smart enough to know when something is off. There’s distance between me and Mike that wasn’t there before. I’m not going to poke a bear, but I do wonder if we’re both pulling away because he was on to something.
Walking dogs and cat sitting for a living means I have a lot of time to think and lots of sweet, adorable listeners to talk through whatever is on my mind. And two things become clear.
The first: I love Mike.
The second: I’m not going to just stand here and watch our moon shot fall apart.
But things do fall apart. Thursday night, I get a frantic phone call from my brother at ten p.m.
“What the heck did you do to Mike? He’s unhinged.”
I put Mike’s volume ofMuch Ado About Nothingdown, not liking the urgency in Adam’s tone. “He plays a villainous psycho. I thought that was the point.”
“I’ve had two birthday parties end in tears after the guests went to his room tonight. And not because he was scary. Heartbreaking, I think I heard through the sobs.”
I’m scrambling to find my keys and shoes.
“Can you get down here? We’re closing up and comping tickets, but I think he could use a friendly face.”
“I’m leaving now. Tell Mike, yeah?”
My heart is racing the entire drive over. Adam’s waiting for me outside the escape room. “I’ll park your car and text you a photo. Your keys will be on the counter. Just make sure the door locks when you leave.”
“If this is some kind of prank—”
“I’m not pulling anything,” Adam says. “I swear on Mom’s tarot cards.”
I head into the quiet escape room. “Mike?” I call.
I hear laughing from Malum Escape. “My Lady Cactus! Come to play with me again at last.”
Mike sits with his back slumped against the wall of his cell. He’s in his full cosplay, including heavy pancake makeup.
“Mike…” He doesn’t even look like himself. “What happened?”
