I bit my lip and nodded against his chest. “I can't help it, I've never felt this way before about anyone, but it doesn’t matter does it? We are nothing, remember?” I croaked, wiping away a stray tear. “Every time I ever think of him fondly, that memory snaps me right out of it.”
I kissed Tink on the cheek and pulled out of his embrace. “I’ll see you later, babe. I can’t think about all this right now and do my job.”
He squeezed my hands and headed back to the private box, but not before I saw Tudor peering through the privacy curtain with a grief-stricken expression upon his face, obviously having heard everything we had said.
I stared back for what seemed like an eternity, then sharply twirled away, desperately trying not to be buried by the mountain of hurt he had made me feel for the past several days.
The show was a huge success, and Boleyn was outstanding. The production received a well-deserved standing ovation, and the cast had me in tears as they presented me with a huge bouquet of red roses on stage after the show.
As I made the thank-you speeches, Tink and Tate whistled and whooped from the private box, causing curious looks in the main audience as they tried to work out who was up there. I announced the start of the after–party, and the audience gradually began to file out, making their way to the French Revolution-themed hall.
After making sure everything was settled backstage, I made my way up the back staircase to the Norths. I pulled back the curtain to the excited sounds of the family chattering, and Tink and Tate huddled close, whispering sweet nothings in each other’s ears.
As I entered, Tink – always my biggest fan – screeched and ran over, picking me up and spinning me around. “Wil, that show was amazing, the best yet, in fact. I’m so proud of you! Big G and Glyn-Glyn would have loved it too.”
I laughed as he grounded me, and welcomed the congratulatory hugs from Pamela, Tater-Tot, Samantha and Henry. Tudor came towards me, and Tink, seeing my body freeze in anticipation of his embrace, grabbed my hand and jerked me towards him, leaving my heartbreaker the only option to simply pat me on my shoulder awkwardly and compliment me on a good show.
At least his family weren't picking up on the tension and uncomfortable vibes.
I cleared my throat. “So, who's coming to the after party?”
Everyone said yes except Tudor, who put his hands in his pockets and shook his head. “Is there a back way into the hall so I can say ‘bye to Bee?”
“Err… yeah there is. It’s just a corridor though, but nobody will be there, it's not been in use for years, it’ll be the safest place. I’ll tell Boleyn to meet you there shall I?”
“Yes, please. Is it possible for you to show me the way?”
Tink clenched my hand. I gave a squeeze back, signalling to him that it was okay. I nodded at Tudor, keeping up a professional pretence in front of the family.
“If the rest of you follow the staircase we came down and go out that door to the left, you will come right out at the hall. I'll take Tudor the back route again.”
I pointed over the ledge, showing them the way out. They all began to make their way down the stairs. Tink hovered behind never letting go of my grip. I smiled at him in gratitude. “You can go too. I’m only showing him the way there.”
He shook his head. “Not a f**king chance!” he declared, glaring at Tudor menacingly. For a slight guy, he had balls of steel against Mr. Hollywood Hulk.
Tudor lowered his head. “Tink, I know I don’t deserve to speak to her, or even to be near her, but please can you let her show me the way to the corridor? I just want to see my sister before I leave. It’s for Bee.”
“It’s okay. You go on with Tate,” I urged.
I looked over my shoulder to see poor Tate waiting awkwardly on the top of the stairs. Bless him, he was truly stuck in the middle of this mess. Tink rubbed his face, muttering under his breath as he walked off.
I turned to Tudor, never looking up. “This way.”
I began to walk ahead and felt his hand take mine. “Tash, please. Will you look at me?”
I shook my head, keeping my focus straight forward. “No, I won’t. Just let me show you the way please. I have nothing to say to you.” I snatched my hand back and led him to the back steps.
“Tash, please wait. I… I’m so sorry, what I said was–"
“Tudor, enough!” I said a bit too loudly, my shoulders slumping in defeat.
I turned to face him. “I can’t be friends with you, and I don’t want an apology. Just leave it alone. I am not strong enough when it comes to you to deal with your erratic friggin’ moods. You don’t get to treat me the way you did and then act like this, like my friend, like you care. You led me on for weeks, spent every waking hour you could in my company, flirted with me, made me fall for you and only then made it clear how you truly felt – I’m not your type. I get it. Enough is enough, okay? I’m your sister’s teacher, nothing more and I’m nothing to you remember? Your words, not mine.”
“But–"
“No buts! Well, none except mine, walking away from you. Now, I’ll show you to the corridor and get Boleyn. I’m still working tonight and will not do this here, or anywhere, for that matter. Surely you understand professionalism? You were spot on when you said we shouldn’t see each other anymore. I very much agree. It’s done... just... leave me alone... please.”
I didn’t wait for his reaction and continued to lead him to the back corridor. I assumed he had followed and was through the door to the hall in record time.
I found Boleyn with her family in amongst a whirlwind of hugs and high fives and took her to Tudor. I left them to their own little celebration, and threw myself into the mob of parents to mingle and actually do my job.
By the hundredth set of parents and extended family members, I was losing the will to live. I had been meeting and greeting for about an hour, answering the same mundane questions and giving the same automatic answers, when I managed to take five minutes to grab a complimentary glass of Cava from the back bar.
I had just taken my first sip when a gentle hand on my shoulder broke me from my thoughts. I turned to see a tall, blonde-haired guy smiling at me with his hand out. “Ms. Munro, isn’t it?” he asked with a wide smile.
Wow, this guy was lovely. Light brown eyes and athletically built, blonde shaggy hair and a tanned face. Very nice.