New Fic-Wishful thinking -3

What is it?" I asked, my voice sharp. Rob's grim look alone would have frightened me. But combined with the stress I'd seen on my father's face? And the strange brass lamp that Dad had given me? What was going on here?

Rob took a deep breath, counting to five before exhaling. The action was achingly familiar—I'd seen him do it hundreds of times, warming up for a play. I half expected him to launch into one of the tongue twisters we used to further loosen up.

"Tomorrow-morning-I-leave-for-New-York-to-play-the-lead-in-New-Day-Dawning."

If I hadn't known the guy for more than twenty years, I might not have been able to pick out what he'd said. As it was, I could discern the words, but I couldn't grasp their meaning. Rob was going to New York? Tomorrow? For a play? Without me? Without even mentioning it to me?

"But New Day Dawning closed last week."

He stared at me miserably, his eyes darkened to indigo. "Our production did. But Randolph is picking it up for New York."

Gerry Randolph, legendary Broadway producer. The man who had come to see us—Rob and me—as we debuted New Day Dawning in a workshop production at the prestigious Twin Cities Rep theater.

We had fallen into the show—Rob had worked with the director the year before, and he'd wrangled an invitation for me to audition. The entire production staff had been struck by how well Rob and I worked together, how smoothly we handled the perilous emotions of a husband and wife on the brink of divorce. Weeks of rehearsal had brought us closer as a couple, annealed us into better actors than we'd ever been before.

The play had garnered great reviews, and I'd let myself believe that we could choose whatever roles we wanted next—maybe even perform at Minneapolis's world-renowned Landmark Stage.

Except, I'd miscalculated.

Rob had been catapulted to whatever role he wanted. Randolph had chosen him.

And Rob wanted New York.

But that wasn't the real problem. That wasn't the real surprise. I forced myself to say the words that spun through my head like a carousel out of control. "You accepted Randolph's offer, without even talking to me first?"

"He said he couldn't wait! He had to know, right then. Besides, we've always supported each other's careers!" He had the words ready, but he couldn't look me in the eye.

"'Support' doesn't mean making final decisions! You should have asked me. We should have talked."

I thought about the sympathetic look Dad had given me. He had known what Rob was going to say. Rob had talked to my father before he'd told me. Twenty years of growing up together, of being in love, and he hadn't spoken to me first.

"Kelly, be reasonable."

I said the most reasonable thing I could think of. "Get out of here, Rob! Go to New York! Alone!"