home, he made me breakfast and put me on the couch before he went to sleep in my bedroom.
It became a routine.
We didn’t talk a lot. We didn’t make love either. Even if we’d wanted to, my foot was such a burden in the cast that it wasn’t possible.
When Saturday night arrived, I was hit with another dose of depression.
Because the show went on without me.
My understudy had the spotlight, and if Andre and everyone else fell in love with her, I might not be able to get my job back even if I made a full recovery. I might be booted to the B team…and never climb back to the top.
I sat in front of the TV and stared at the screen blankly, caring more about the time showing on the cable box. I waited for the performance to be over so I could stop thinking about the evening, the way the hot lights used to make me sweat, the way I couldn’t hear anything over the orchestra when I danced on the stage.
Then it was finally over.
Heath glanced at me from his seat beside me, like he’d noticed something was wrong. He grabbed my hand, interlocked our fingers, and held it on his thigh. He stared at me with his piercing blue gaze, like he could read written words in my eyes. “This isn’t forever, baby. I promise.”
I loved that he knew exactly what I was thinking without me having to explain it, that he was understanding of my emotions but also firm in his belief that I would get better, that I would make a full recovery and be as strong as ever.
I would never find another man like him.
No one would ever understand me the way he did.
No one would ever love me the way he did. “I love you…” I knew I shouldn’t say it, shouldn’t put those feelings into the universe when nothing had changed. But I couldn’t help it. Couldn’t hold back the emotion in my heart.
His eyes softened slightly, his fingers squeezing mine. “I know.”
A knock sounded on the door.
Heath’s hand was still in mine as we watched the movie. His eyes flicked to the door then to me, silently asking me if I expected anyone.
I shook my head.
He got to his feet and walked to the door, peering through the peephole. When he turned to me, an annoyed expression on his face, it was obvious who it was.
Damien knocked again before he spoke. “Cat, I know you’re home. Open the door.”
Oh no.
Heath grabbed my crutches and helped me onto them before he walked into the bedroom and shut the door. He knew showing his face would just make things worse with Damien, so it was better to disappear than provoke my brother’s wrath. So, he hid his face…like a dirty secret.
That felt so wrong, it made me sick. Heath was the one dropping everything to take care of me, and he had to leave the room when he had every right to stay. I made it to the door and opened it.
Damien stood there in a suit, Anna slightly behind him in a gown.
It took me less than a heartbeat to figure out what had happened.
He’d gone to my show, realized I’d been replaced, and then came to my apartment to confront me about it. He opened his mouth to issue a million questions, but when he saw my foot in a cast, the crutches supporting me, he shut his mouth and sighed.
Anna gasped. “Girl, oh no…”
“What happened?” Damien entered my apartment with Anna, his eyes on the white cast that encompassed my foot and ankle.
“I broke my ankle, so I’ll be like this for six weeks.”
He released another sigh, sadness filling his eyes. “Cat, I’m so sorry.” He leaned into me and hugged me with one arm, careful not to topple me over. He was my brother again, loving, affectionate, and with a heart of gold. He pulled away and looked down at my injury, even though he couldn’t distinguish anything underneath.
“Yeah…” I used the crutches to balance on one foot, but I struggled because I had no experience with them. Heath carried me everywhere. “It’s been hard.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
I shrugged. “I just…didn’t want to talk about it.”
He continued to pity me, like he wished he could fix it for me. But no one could. “When did this happen?”
“Last week.”
He looked around my apartment, seeing the dirty pans on the stove and the perfectly clean apartment. “Then how