Page 108 of Perfectly Complicated
Stage fright isn’t the only problem here; it’s also the unresolved situation with Nick. He’s been texting me daily about Christmas—when he can have Aria, for how long, what our “arrangement” will be. It’s an impossible problem to solve when I know that giving in to his demands means leaving Rourke out completely.
Rourke has been more of a father to Aria than Nick ever was—holding her when she’s sick, reading bedtime stories, tickling her belly and making her laugh until she gets the hiccups. The thought of excluding him from Christmas feels wrong on every possible level.
Between his away games and my last-minute preparations for the pageant, we haven’t had a chance to see each other since he moved back into his condo. Since the show starts in just a few hours, I doubt we’ll get more than a fleeting moment before the pageant. The auditorium is already buzzing with parents as I check my list backstage for what feels like the hundredth time,trying to focus on last-minute details instead of my heart feeling like it’s going to explode from nerves.
“Ms. Bennett!” Lily appears beside me, her angel wings slightly askew. Preston forgot his hat and Emmalynn can’t find her wings AND Jack is in the bathroom because he’s sick.”
Just what I need—more problems.
“Slow down, sweetie.” I kneel to fix her costume and give her what I hope is a confident smile. “We’ll figure it all out. We always do.”
“But what if we don’t?” She tilts her head. “What if Emmalynn’s angel wings have disappeared forever?”
“Then we’ll go without them,” I tell her. “The show must go on, right?”
She nods before skipping off.
“Ms. Bennett?” Jack tugs on my sleeve next.
I turn toward him. “Are you feeling any better?” His face is pale, but that might just be nerves.
He rubs his hand across his belly. “My stomach still hurts, but I think it’s because I ate too many gummy bears.”
“Understandable,” I say. “Anything else on your mind?”
He looks around. “Is Mr. Rourke coming? Because Lily said he’s not. That maybe hereallydoes hate Christmas.”
“Of course he’s coming.” I bite my lip and glance at the entrance, hoping he’ll show up soon.
He’s only a few minutes late, which is understandable given his busy day. He texted me that his flight came in late this morning, and then he had practice this afternoon, but he promised to be here.
I smooth down Jack’s cowlick. “Mr. Rourke wouldn’t miss this for anything.”
“How do you know?” he asks, frowning.
“Because I could see it on his face during the last practice. He was actually happy to be part of the show.”
He shakes his head. “I hope you’re right.”
As Jack heads back to where the other students are waiting, the worry inside me grows.
I miss Rourke. I miss his footsteps in the house, the sound of his bag hitting the floor when he arrives home. I miss the excitement that bubbled up in me every time he walked through the door grinning.
“There he is!” Emmalynn shouts, and I spin around to see Rourke walking through a side door.
He’s slightly out of breath from rushing, his dark hair tousled and falling across his forehead in that way that makes my fingers itch to brush it back. As he sheds his coat, the movement pulls his dress shirt taut across his broad shoulders and chest, reminding me of exactly why I had trouble concentrating during our first few rehearsals.
“Hey, kids, who’s ready for a show?” he says with enthusiasm, even though he’s clearly had an exhausting day.
They all run over to him, crowding around his body, before his gaze meets mine. His mouth lifts, and my heart doesn’t just jump—it does a full backflip before landing somewhere in my throat.
Man, I’ve missed that smile.
I want to tell him how the past few days without him have felt like trying to breathe underwater and seeing him walk through the door made everything right again.
Instead, I’m surrounded by a swarm of nervous children and an auditorium full of people waiting for the show to begin, and all I can do is stand here drowning in the way he’s looking at me, like he’s the only person in the room.
“So you really don’t hate Christmas?” Lily asks.
