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But she wasn’t. Merida was dreading it, in fact.
It was no longer her picture in the programme. And there was a full cast tonight—no announcements, it was all as it said on the programme.
Merida sat there as the lights dimmed and the curtain lifted and watched the birds flutter home to roost and the night descend on the beautiful forest.
As it had on her career.
She glanced over to Ethan and saw he was lost to the show, utterly oblivious to the agony in her.
He wasn’t.
Ethan felt her scramble for a tissue but he made no move. For, just as he needed to face things with his father—and he would tomorrow—Merida needed to do this.
The production was beautiful, stunning, breathtaking. And she had every right to mourn her absence on this stage. Yet not once had she thrown it back at him, Ethan thought.
Ethan’s hand closed over hers, and for a moment Merida clung to his strength and this rare warmth outside of the bedroom.
Ah, but that was right—they were on show now, Merida thought, and pulled her hand away.
But then he pressed a handkerchief into her hand, just as Jobe had done on their wedding day, and he took her hand and held it. As if he would never let it go.
When Belladonna came out and sang her solo, Merida rested her head on his shoulder.
‘You’ll be back,’ he told her quietly.
‘I don’t think so.’
‘Iknowso.’
Ethan did know so—for after the production they would speak. Tomorrow he would speak with his father, but tonight was just for them.
It had to be, for her friend would arrive in the morning and in a couple of weeks the baby would be here.
And so, thinking he was being cruel to be kind, he had brought her here, to reduce her to tears, so he could pick her up and hopefully they could start over again.
But now she was pulling away.
Merida felt a tightening in her stomach and shifted in her seat. She was more than used to them, but unlike the others this seemed to move round to her back.
And then, just as the lights came up for the interval, Merida felt another one.
‘You miss it, don’t you?’ Ethan said, but his voice seemed to be coming from a million miles away.
‘Merida?’ Ethan said. ‘I know that you must miss it, but—’
‘My private thoughts are not a part of our contract,’ Merida hissed, and her words were far harsher than she had intended, though she did not really know why. ‘Even you, with all your millions, can’taffordto know how I feel.’
‘I don’t get what you’re saying.’
‘You can’t have it all, Ethan. You can’t have every part of me. Because I need something to be left when our time is over...’
She couldn’t do this here. They were out in public and starting to row. The façade was slipping, the mask falling down, and she sat there on a red velvet seat and scrambled to find the Merida she had created. The tough persona, the perfect wife...
She felt adrift on turbulent waters, with nothing to cling to.
‘I’m fine,’ Merida said suddenly, and she looked at his black eyes, narrowed in concern.
But her back was really hurting, and she couldn’t stand to sit through the second half. She just wanted to be alone.
