Cut Too Deep (19 page)

His word always warmed the most intimate parts of her.

Hadley: You date plenty of beautiful women. They don’t appear to intimidate you.

Miller: They’re easy to come by. Their beauty is as fake as their reasons for wanting to date me. You’re different. The connection we share is real. The only thing about you that’s fake is the giant stop sign you wear strapped to your chest. You want to explore your feelings, but you’re scared. You think I’ll hurt you. I hope with the miles that separate us, I can prove to you that I won’t.

Miller understood her so well. All her efforts to hide who she was were unsuccessful with him. He saw right through her.

Hadley: You’re different, too. I’ve never met someone I wanted to try with. You’re confident strength pulls me in, but scares me at the same time. The gentle, tender side of you when we write makes me forget I’m afraid. I think maybe you’ve had your heart broken. Am I right?

Miller: Yes, but, before you worry, I’m over her.

Hadley: If I’m being honest, it bothers me.

Miller: I appreciate your honesty, but it was a long time ago. She was the wrong girl for me.

Hadley: How do you know?

Miller: Because I wouldn’t change for her.

Hadley: Would you, for me?

Miller: Oh, Love. I already have.

Hadley took that in with a great deal of interest. Goose bumps ran up her arms. She was curious how he changed and felt brave enough to inquire.

Hadley: And how exactly would that be?

Miller: Now, that’s a conversation to have in person.

An uneasiness to share personal facts about your life, Hadley understood well. She decided not to push. Their time together was nearly over.

Hadley: It’s almost 9. I’m sad.

Miller: Don’t be sad. After we disconnect, close your eyes. See my face as our foreheads touch. Feel my breath caress your skin as we gaze into one another’s eyes. You’ll see sincerity in my eyes, and I’ll see a willingness to try in yours. When our lips meet, our kiss will fill you with promise. I have to go. Goodnight, Love. x M

She believed him that he wouldn’t hurt her. Hadley closed her eyes and the imaginary kiss did everything Miller said it would. She blushed, thinking about how he knew for over a year she was watching him. She’d obviously gotten sloppy, or maybe in this one instance, the universe helped her out.

Friday, work was much the same. Her texts with Miller that evening started out similar to the night before, sharing about building trust and opening up. Before long, though, the texts grew to more imaginary kisses and soft touches. Miller wrote as though he was in the room with her, and Hadley loved how his words made her feel. He didn’t push things into sexting territory as he knew she wasn’t ready, a gesture that didn’t go unnoticed by Hadley. She considered that could be what he meant when he wrote he’d already changed. Hadley went to bed that night with images of their shared kisses keeping her warm.

Hadley didn’t recognize the woman in the mirror wearing a designer gown. Her wavy brown hair was up with a few loose trundles. Diamonds rained down the neck of a sophisticated stranger. Hadley blinked several times. It wasn’t the gown, or the shoes, or the ridiculously expensive jewelry. It was the glow of her skin and the warm feeling inside of her for the man who arranged today especially for her.

I’m beautiful
.

It was indeed a revelation for a woman who’d been bullied and teased relentlessly throughout her life for being dirty and poor, then for being orphaned, and, finally, because she’d been afraid to fight back. Hadley had never truly seen herself, let alone admired the woman she’d become.

The rather dapper looking MacElroy Walsh made his way up the stairwell at twelve-thirty. He adjusted the lapels of his jacket before tapping on his friend’s door. He knew Hadley would be dressed up, but didn’t expect her beauty to leave him breathless.

“You’re stunning.”

Hadley blushed.

“You look quite handsome yourself.”

Mac’s chest swelled.

“I do, don’t I.”

“And modest, too.”

Hadley moved aside, making room for Mac to enter her apartment. She picked up the phone she used to text Miller.

“Would you take a picture? I want to send it to Miller?”

“Sure, but that’s cruel.”

Hadley tilted her head. “How so?”

Mac pointed a finger at her. “Um, because you look hot, and he’s a guy, with only a hand to keep him company.”

Hadley grumbled and shot her friend an annoyed look. “Just take the picture!”

Mac laughed and snapped a couple of shots. “Do you have a printer? If not, I have one.”

“A printer for what?” she asked.

“The photo.” Hadley looked confused. “So you can print the picture to mail to the G-man.”

“Oh.” She almost slipped up and told Mac about the phone and texting Miller. “Yes, I have a printer.”

Hadley texted her favorite picture to Miller before the two friends exited Hadley’s apartment building and entered a waiting limousine. Hadley had never been in an expensive car, let alone a limousine. It smelled like leather and was nearly as large as her apartment. Mac busied himself by playing with various buttons before he discovered champagne in the fridge. He poured two glasses and handed one to his friend.

“Wow, I can get used to this.” Hadley smiled as Mac held his glass in the air. “Here’s to you dating the G-man for a very long time.”

“Mac!” Hadley was only slightly offended.

“I’m kidding. Here’s to friendship.”

They clinked glasses together and downed the champagne.

When the ballet opened, two friends sat together in the front row balcony. They watched a battle unfold into a timeless love story.  Hadley both envied and appreciated the beauty and talent embodied by the dancers. She ached deep down inside, knowing it should be her on that stage. It hurt her deeply to admit dancing in the ballet represented an achievement she would never attain.

Mac noticed the pain radiating from his friend. Her desire to be one of the dancers on stage was evident by the sad expression painted across her features. She’d obviously given up her dream for reasons other than financial stability. A person with a passion such as hers would sacrifice anything to accomplish their dreams. They would live off dog food if they had too. He squeezed her hand and she smiled.

By the second act, Hadley no longer found herself stewing in failed dreams and wallowing in adoration. Instead, she drew comparisons between the characters and her own life. She’d been tricked, manipulated, and deprived of love. While she didn’t have a Puck to reverse her past, she did have an opportunity to discover love.

The curtain closed and Hadley sprang to her feet, tears rushing down her cheeks as she was overcome with emotion. The ballet wasn’t only dance, it was expression and art and love—everything pure and wonderful in the world. She loved the performance, and she couldn’t wait to share all of it with Miller.

Mac delighted in the pure joy illuminating his friend. She’d always been beautiful, but today she was positively radiant. The night he kissed her, he’d accepted they would never be anything more than good friends. He vowed then to be her best friend, to cherish her and protect her. He’d encouraged her to explore her feeling for Miller Genetti. Seeing her happiness today solidified his decision to step aside, but if Miller hurt her, there would be hell to pay.

Hadley sat alone on her couch, watching the minutes tick away until she could tell Miller how much she loved the ballet. Her door doorbell rang and she heard Mrs. St. Armont.

“It’s me, Hadley. Are you in there?”

Hadley opened the door to her neighbor’s friendly smile. Mrs. St. Armont handed her a package wrapped in brown paper.

“This came for you earlier. I was returning from the market when the courier was ringing you. I signed for it. I hope you don’t mind?”

Hadley took the small box.

“No, I don’t mind at all. Thank you for bringing it over.”

“You looked quite lovely earlier. Did you have a nice time with your boyfriend?”

“What? Oh, Mac’s not my boyfriend. I did have a lovely time, though. We went to the ballet.”

“Oh, I bet it was spectacular.”

“It was. Thanks again.”

After her neighbor returned to her apartment, Hadley ripped opened the package she already knew to be from Miller. Still riding a high from the ballet, she couldn’t be upset when she saw the box from Tiffany’s, despite telling Miller no more gifts.

The sterling silver charm bracelet was beautiful, but the letter, although not his handwriting was perfection.

Hadley examined the charms, feeling a wealth of emotions. The first was a tiny pink pig, which made Hadley chuckle. Miller’s capacity for self-deprecating humor was one of the qualities she liked most about him. From the second link, a tiny stack of stationary and a dangling pen hung side by side. The third charm was her favorite–a glass slipper.

May the clock never strike midnight again.

With the bracelet clenched in her hand, she fell asleep and awoke to the sound of a text from Miller.

Miller: Good evening, Love. How was the ballet?  Thank you for the photo. You looked positively stunning.