AllFreeNovel
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But I can't breathe.
There must be something wrong with me.
I'm not about to give in to whatever this is. I love Luke and I'm going to marry him and I'm not going to be afraid of a stupid fucking ring.
No, it's not a stupid ring. It's nice. It's gorgeous, actually, simple and elegant. It was his mom's ring. He gave me his mom's ring.
It's not the same ring he gave to Samantha. He gave her some shit from a chain store at the mall.
I smirk. Luke wouldn't be caught dead at a chain jewelry store. Her ring was also gorgeous, but it wasn't this. It wasn't his mom's. No, he was saving this one. He didn't realize it but he was saving this one for me.
The tension in my lungs eases, just a little bit, just enough that I can suck in a full breath.
I slide the ring onto my finger. It's just a ring. No big deal. Not at all a big deal.
There's another knock on the door. Dammit. Everyone is around today.
"Come in," I say. I check my hair and makeup--good enough--and turn towards the door.
It's Ellen. She smiles. "You wanna go out tonight?"
Where does she get the energy? I'm ready to collapse on this stupid, ugly couch and she wants to go out.
She shrieks. "Oh my God, Alyssa! When did you get engaged?"
Well, fuck. Her gaze is on the ring. This is what it was like last time. When I wore the ring, everyone wanted to see it or talk about it or offer their little commentary on it.
"Monday," I say. "My boyfriend was visiting."
"Damn. This calls for celebration shots."
"I'm tired," I say.
Ellen shakes her head. "So we'll only have one celebration shot." She picks up my purse and hands it to me. "Come on, let's go. I know a great bar. It's all theater people. They know better than to ask for an autograph."
She should have led with that. "Okay," I say. A few drinks might help break up this awful tightness in my chest.
I follow her through the hallway, to the back entrance of the theater. It's dark outside, but it's still warm. Even though she's wearing heels, Ellen walks fast. She has the "no-nonsense, take no shit, take no prisoners" New York vibe. I hate to admit it, but I'm madly jealous. One day, I'll learn not to take shit or prisoners.
"Are you always nervous after a performance?" she asks.
I bite my lip. So I'm not hiding it well.
"Just tired usually," I say.
She turns a corner, ducking into a quiet side street. "Fuck. If I was engaged, I'd be a nervous wreck. I can't imagine any scenario where that doesn't end with me stuck at home with some brat and him fucking his secretary behind my back."
"So you're a romantic." That should be enough to convince her I'm totally doubt free.
&
nbsp; "What I need is someone like Nicholas. Some pretentious tool with no interest in settling down. Who will happily be a theater actor forever." She says it with a grandness, like she's preforming Shakespeare. Then she drops back to her normal voice. "Guys are drawn to my 'delightful spirit.' They love dating an artsy theater girl until they realize it means I'm busy all night, kissing other guys on stage. Then they want to civilize me. Turn me into a good future housewife."
My chest tightens again. Luke has always been upfront about supporting my acting career, but things could change. We never talk much about the future. He must have expectations. He must...
I shake my head. That's ridiculous. He's obsessed with not getting in my way. And after how his father treated his mother... There's no way he expects to civilize me into a good future housewife.
Ellen points to an unmarked black door. She pushes it open and steps inside. I follow her, stepping into a dark dive bar.
