An ache struck him so ruthlessly, he had to support himself on the display case.
God, he missed Reese. Every damn second of every damn day.
He’d sent her away, too. This yawning pit of loneliness was his doing. He replayed his stupid speech—on Valentine’s Day, no less—to her on a constant loop, wishing like hell he could take it all back. Wishing he’d put aside his own hang-ups and looked at her pale face. Her misery. Wishing he’d stopped and listened.
Of course she wasn’t answering his calls. Of course she didn’t leave Port Authority with him and come back to his place, to remain indefinitely. In a matter of minutes, he’d stripped away every layer of security she’d had in their relationship. And that on top of her being rejected for role after role. The poor girl had been hollowed out—and he’d added to that feeling. Now he’d fucking lost her and his own agony was well deserved.
She’d helped him become more confident. Find his voice.
Made him acknowledge his capabilities. Brought joy into his life. Reminded him how to laugh, smile, venture outside of his comfort zone. Hell, her Sweetest Fix idea had given the bakery enough capital for the expansion. They planned on knocking down the wall into the vacant space beside them next month. And what had he done for her in return?
Cut her off at the knees when she was already at her lowest point.
After all that, why would she be comfortable enough to let him carry her for a while? He craved the chance to help her. To be her rock while she figured things out. But she couldn’t rely on him like that because he’d damaged her faith in him. In them.
About a million times, he’d come an inch away from asking his father to find Reese a chorus position. It wouldn’t even be a favor. She was good. Good enough to win an audition with Bernard. If she hadn’t missed it, she’d already be working. No question. But Leo knew she’d never accept the help, as badly as he needed to give it, so he somehow refrained.
Forcing himself back to the present, Leo asked about the customer’s dog breed and bagged up her key lime tarts, running her credit card and sending the woman on her way. With the bakery empty, he rested his elbows on the counter, massaging the ever-present throb in the center of his forehead. It was nothing compared to the emptiness inside of him, but there wasn’t anything he could do about that. Not without Reese.
Voices outside drew Leo’s attention and he lifted his head to see Jackie chatting with the mailman. She laughed and accepted the small bundle of letters, bills and advertisements, wishing him a good day and dancing into the store. Leo guessed he looked about as shitty as he felt, because Jackie drew up short at the sight of him, sending him a sympathetic smile.
“Hey, boss. How was the after work rush?”
“Decent. Sold out those cronuts,” he said absently, turning for the back room. “Let me know if you need me.”
“Oh, Leo.”
Something in Jackie’s tone had him turning around, eyebrow raised. “Yeah?”
She stared down at a powder blue envelope in her hands. Started to say something, but held up the envelope instead. His heart almost stopped dead in his chest when he saw it was from Reese. Reese Stratton. A Wisconsin address. Had she written him a letter?
Leo reached for the envelope and opened it carefully, not wanting to screw up his first chance to hear from her in six excruciating weeks.
Inside was a theater ticket. Just one.
For tonight’s performance of Chicago.
Hope almost caused his knees to lose power.
But neither of those emotions came close to the pride that expanded his chest.
“You don’t think…” Jackie started, a smile curling her lips.
“She did it.” God help him, his eyes were burning. “She did it.”
And after everything, she still wanted him? Is that what this meant?
Please God. Please let her still want me. Need me. Like I need her.
A splotch of moisture fell onto the ticket and he wasn’t sure whether it came from him or Jackie, who was openly weeping. “Well, you have to bring flowers. Roses. Find something nice to wear.” She checked her watch, a laugh bubbling out of her mouth. “Better get started, boss. You only have a couple of hours.”
Two hours and one ripped dress shirt later—apparently his shoulders…and the rest of him had bulked up since college—Leo found himself in an aisle seat, anticipation tensing every one of his muscles, his hands in a white-knuckled grip on the carved armrests, a bouquet of red and white roses in his lap.
Reese was in the building. The same building as him. Somewhere within these walls.
How was he supposed to breathe normally?
Leo had accompanied his parents to Chicago years ago, so he wasn’t expecting the lights to dim halfway, an unfamiliar song drifting down the occupied rows like smoke in a speakeasy. A murmur passed through the audience when a dancer appeared in one aisle, and then a second performer in the other, a spotlight swinging between them. Even with the hats pulled low over their brow, he could tell they weren’t Reese right away, though. Where was—