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“We knew this was coming.”

“I know.” He sighed heavily and ran a hand through his shaggy dark hair. He gave me that half smile that had become so dear to me over the past two weeks. “I just didn’t expect it to feel like this,” he said, stepping closer to me.

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I had met Orlando in New York City a month earlier. I was in town auditioning for Wicked, and he had been doing promotion for his up-coming movie, Elizabethtown.

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A knock at the door broke our stare, much to my relief. Orlando got up to answer it, and a few minutes later we were set up at the small table in the corner, eating veggie burgers and French fries. Neither of us spoke for a long time, we were both wrapped in our own thoughts. Every now and then we’d glance up at each other and smile, then go right back to our food. I began to wonder if we’d run out of things to talk about.

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A few days later, I was practicing vocal scales in my apartment, when the phone rang. I got up from the piano and rushed to answer it. I was waiting for a call about the audition and I was hoping that was it.

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“Were you expecting someone?” Orlando asked, looking toward the door.

“Just you,” I said, heading for door. I looked through the peephole and my heart sank. Ramsey, my ex-boyfriend, was standing on the other side of the door. He knocked again.

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An hour later, Orlando was all settled on the sofa-bed, and I was changing into my pajamas in my room. When I was changed, I went back into the living room to say goodnight. I knew he was really tired, and I didn’t want to keep him awake any longer than necessary.

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Later that day, Orlando was flipping channels on the television and I was curled up beside him with my script, when the phone rang. I reached across him, giggling when he nipped my ear on the way by, and grabbed the cordless on the end table beside the sofa.

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We went into the kitchen at the back of the house, as most of the noise seemed to be coming from there. I could hear the television blaring from the basement and knew there must be a movie on for the little kids.

“Can we help with anything?” I said as I opened the door. Aunt Tess was standing at the counter, tossing a salad, her small frame covered in black from head to toe. Her blond curls were pulled back in a ponytail on top of her head, and she was laughing at someone in front of her. When I came in, she looked up.

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Aunt Tess’s huge dining table had been extended to its full size, with all of the extra leaves put in. There were 17 of us, including the younger kids, and we all fit. I pulled up a chair next to Orlando, and noticed that Deanna had worked her way to the other side of him. She was so cute! My aunt’s friends were huddled with her at one end of the table, talking in low tones and glancing my way every once in awhile.

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When I awoke the following morning, I jumped at the feel of arms wrapped around me. I’m not a morning person by any stretch, and it takes me a few minutes to fully wake up. Luckily, just before I started to scream bloody murder, I remembered the night before. I smiled and cuddled back down in the bed. Orlando was pressed against my back, his arms firmly locked around me as he slept. I shifted slightly so I could look at him. He was beautiful, his hair wild on the pillow, a peaceful expression on his face. I lightly ran a fingertip over his mouth, unable to help myself.

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