Letting Him Go

Chapter 10 - The Goodbye

Sometimes I wish I could just disappear.

I wish the ground would split beneath my feet and the world would swallow me whole. I wish to vanish into nothing but a pair of eyes in the sky. I wish to fly far far away, where no one knows my name. And most selfishly, I wish he would miss me if I did.

I hadn't gone to any of their rehearsals. Maybe it was to preserve my dignity or to let the pain of the final performance hit me once at full force. Maybe it was to spare myself the ache of having to watch them say goodbye.

I waited outside until I heard the music stop. I quietly pushed the door open to Dolby Theater balancing a tray of coffees—a treat for the crew on their final day of rehearsal as I had come to drop off Bradley's car keys. I began descending the endless stairs from the side entrance of the theater, glancing up at the stage and immediately freezing in my tracks—the coffees jerking in my arms and spilling slightly on the carpet.

The song had ended, but they still sat at the piano—his arm slung around her waist, her head on his shoulder. They weren't looking at each other, but down at her hands resting on the keys—both pairs of eyes blinking peacefully and swimming in deep thought, chests rising and falling in sync. I crept back into the shadows below the balcony.

Snapping out of her trance, she lifted her head abruptly, and he looked down at her in alarm— discouraged by the sudden loss of contact.

"I think we're ready." She smiled at him and he just stared at her—for too long— his heart spilling from his gaze and his forehead creased in concentration, holding onto her every word. Moments passed before she broke the silence, shifting next to him on the bench.

"...just like acting, right?" She inhaled sharply— desperate to cut the tension, to remove herself from anything that would make leaving him any more impossible than it already was. The words stung him as soon as they left her mouth— a deep pain shooting across his face and clouding his eyes as he slowly leaned away from her. She regretted it immediately. Her hand found his chin to gently anchor him in place, stroking his skin with her fingers before leaning in to softly plant a kiss just below the corner of his mouth. When she pulled back, her bottom lip was trembling and he reached out to steady it with his thumb.

"It's not goodbye," he said.

"It has to be, Bradley." She untangled herself from him before the tears could fall, yanking the in-ear device from her ears and disappearing behind the curtains. And that was their last rehearsal.

He sits to my right with his hands clasped in his lap, his leg bouncing up and down nervously. I squeeze his shoulder in reassurance. Meanwhile, she is calm, collected, and beautiful to my left—smiling up at the stage as the soft lights dance across her face. I know that inside, her heart is aching for just a little more time.

The curtain rises and the guitar starts to strum the all-too-familiar melody as the piano is pushed to center stage and the men in suits rush to adjust the two microphones. This is it. My lungs sting, and I realize I've been holding my breath. His hand shakes as he reaches over my lap to lead her to the stage one last time. She senses his uneasiness, grabbing him immediately, and he visibly relaxes—his eyes returning to gentle ocean waves as he stands from his seat.

They float like a fairytale to the stage— her eyes never leaving his face as he slowly climbs the stairs, careful not to step on her dress. The audience claps with delight. They reach the center of the stage and he reluctantly releases her to take his place on a stool in front of the piano, his microphone angled so that he directly overlooks her spot at the piano bench. He gulps, and I can practically hear his heart hammering in his ears. She starts to walk away from him toward the bench then hesitates—turning around swiftly to face him, deciding to stand against the piano instead. A flash of confusion crosses his face. This was not the plan. Wide green eyes blink confidently back at him and she nods, resting her elbow against the piano lid. She knows he needs her there. And so it is no longer a performance— we are all intruders of an incredibly intimate moment between the two unlikely lovers that suddenly make perfect sense. We don't belong here. I fight the urge to stand from my seat and run. I don't belong here.

He closes his eyes and begins to sing, clutching the microphone nervously with both hands. His voice is high and wobbly at first, but he opens his eyes to see her watching him intently and the words from his mouth turn sweet and smooth, dancing through the air to reach her— as if they could never be meant for anyone else. The smile she returns him is enough to bring tears to my eyes—it transforms him at once, freeing him from fear as he smiles back, basking in the joy that radiates from her body.

I feel a hand on my knee. Gloria. I glance down at my lap to see that I'm trembling in my seat.

"Come here, it's okay." She takes my cold hand in hers. I can't bring myself to look at her. "It's okay," she repeats, and I bite back my tears.

He looks at her with so much passion that I feel as if the theater may explode. The whole world watches him melt in her presence— his eyes clear and honest, begging her to take him with her, wherever it is in life she chooses to go next. There is no going back. This may be the end, but I know it can't be the end. She lives on in his heart— in my heart— and there is no way I will walk away from it all without a deep scar. I know he sat in his car and cried in our driveway when he dropped her off at home for the last time. I know he sings "Joanne" to Lea when he puts her to bed. I know he sits at the piano in the basement when he can't sleep, wondering if she's lonely—if it keeps her up as well.

In one swift motion, he snatches the microphone stand off the ground and plants it firmly behind the piano before striding over to the bench—refusing to be without her any longer, his eyes burning with desire. My grip on Gloria's hand tightens. He sits down beside her—his arm naturally finding its way around her waist and pulling her close, leaning in to fill any spaces between them. She turns to look at him and for a brief moment, the whole world stops. Her eyes are locked on his lips and he just stares at her—memorizing every feature of her impossibly beautiful face— waiting, praying for her to cross the inches between them. She doesn't. She shakes her head sadly and turns back towards the microphone. He sighs in despair.

Their voices ring through the theater over the quiet piano as the lovely harmony floats into existence for the last time— foreheads touching, eyes closed, brows furrowed in concentration— not on the words, but on each other as they savor every vanishing second of the greatest era of their lives.

And then it's over. It's all over. We'll wake up tomorrow morning with no one coming over to rehearse, no one coming over to make breakfast, no one coming over to remind me that I've lost the love of my life. It will all have just been one big nightmare. But it really wasn't. I wouldn't trade my time with her for the world— even if my heart was torn into a thousand pieces by her existence. I will never regret knowing the kindness of Stefani Germanotta.

The audience goes wild and I find myself on my feet but they stay frozen— holding each other, afraid that the world will crumble beneath them when they let go. Her eyes flutter open to meet his, and she looks at him— really looks at him— for the first time in weeks. And he comes alive. I know it won't be for long, but he comes alive beside her and I wish for her to stay.

I wish for her to dance with me in the kitchen like we used to, I wish for her to hold him when he cries tomorrow from missing her.

Because foolishly, I wish— just like every single other person in this room— that they could be together. I wish for a love like that to truly exist somewhere in this cold world so that I may find it for myself someday.

Watching the tears that roll down her cheeks and taint his eyes as they say farewell to a world into which they had once escaped with each other, I wish that I could just disappear.

***THANK YOU for your continued support :) We're not done just yet.... ;) ***