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The show is just like any other show.
I should have known that from how excited my agent was about it. The more he tries to sell a show to me, the more boring it usually is. He was against the charity gig in Green Haven, and that’s been the best thing that’s happened to me in a long time.
The whole time, I’m thinking about Ragnar. I did my best to reassure him, and he certainly tried to put a brave face on. He always puts a brave face on; that’s who he is. But I could see how worried he was. That I would forget him as soon as I got back on the road. That getting back with him was just a fun little fling while I was stuck in a small town.
“I will come back,” I tried to tell him. “You know that, right?”
“Of course,” he said. But he paused just a second too long before saying it.
Now, as I settle into the airplane, a voice inside me asks the question. “What if it was?”
But it wasn’t. I’ve had flings before. I’ve even had flings that I thought would be serious. I’ve had flings where the other person broke it up, and flings where we just sort of drifted apart once we weren’t around each other anymore. I’m not the inexperienced, awkward boy that I was in college when Ragnar and I were together for the first time.
There’s no way to put it into words exactly what’s different about Ragnar and our relationship. I could tell you all sorts of things that I like about Ragnar. I could tell you about the way he makes me feel. But at the end of the day, the simple fact is that I’m not done with him. Our relationship is going somewhere, and I want to see where that somewhere is.
Meanwhile, the gig plods tediously along. There are two kinds of people who put on fashion shows: the ones who see models as artists who elevate the clothes they wear by lending them our personality, and the ones who see us as clothes hangers.
It doesn’t take me long to figure out which one is running this show, and it makes the whole thing feel tiresome and lifeless. Even the other models seem somewhat bored and low energy. I wonder how many of them also have a Ragnar waiting for them someplace.
Well, either way, I give the show my best. The clothes are interesting looking with lots of dramatic, swooping cuts. I wouldn’t mind if this style got more popular. The audience claps when we come out, and afterwards, a nice boy tries to flirt with me. I curve him gently and I head back to my room to rest.
As I’m falling asleep, I feel bad for Ragnar. He really doesn’t understand just how much he means to me. And of course, who can really blame him? I was the one who walked away from him all those years ago.
But what Ragnar doesn’t understand is just how difficult that choice was for me. Being kept a secret hurt more than I could bear. And I tried to bear it. I tried everything I could, but finally, I had to leave. That’s what it felt like to me at the time. Something I had to do, not something I chose.
Now that he’s not keeping me a secret, now that the two of us are able to love each other in the open, there’s nothing I want to do more than get back to his arms.
I just wish he could know that. I wish he didn’t have to carry the doubts and fears he must be struggling with tonight.
The day after the fashion show, I’m on the plane back to him. My agent isn’t happy with me, but if I only did what my agent wanted, I wouldn’t have a life.
I step out past the security checkpoint and there’s Ragnar. The moment he sees me, his face goes from nervous to overjoyed. Did he really think I’d lie to him? Let him wait for me in the airport for a plane I didn’t take?
Not rationally, I realize, as his arms wrap around me. But how many of our thoughts are really rational?
“I missed you,” I tell him. “You know that, right?”
He keeps hugging me, barely holding back his orc strength. “I missed you too.”
Just as I’m starting to worry about being in other people’s way, he lets go and takes my hand. “Did you check anything?”
“No, I’ve got it all in here,” I say, lifting up my carry-on. “Has anything exciting happened in Green Haven while I was gone?”
“You think exciting things happen in Green Haven?” He smiles. “Bradford, you’re the biggest thrill this town has had since the Civil War. We’ve all just been talking about you.”
I laugh. “I think that might just be you, babe.”
He shrugs and for a moment, I see the insecurity rise to his face. “Well, maybe. I did miss you quite a bit.”
He points out his car and I walk towards the trunk to get rid of this stupid bag. “You certainly didn’t miss much with this show. About as forgettable a trip as I’ve ever had, and that’s saying something.”
“What would you say is your most forgettable trip?” he asks, circling to the front seat.
“Can’t remember.”
He laughs. “I set ‘em up, you knock ‘em down.”
The trunk opens and I swing my bag into it, right on top of the rental papers. “I meant it when I said I missed you, you know. That wasn’t just me being polite.”
