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All too soon the time came to return to New York and Wicked. As per Nick’s instructions, I’d kept up my practicing, so I would be ready to walk back into my role with little difficulty. Part of me was anxious to get home, but a bigger part of me wanted to revel in the world we’d created together, just the two of us. Other than a few outings with his family, during which time I met some of his family, we’d stayed pretty much in the house, pretending the outside world didn’t exist. I hadn’t realized how tired I actually was until I had the chance to slow down and rest. Orlando felt the same way.

We returned to New York the day before New Year’s Eve, as planned. I hadn’t expected the time difference to bother me, but it did, and I was exhausted by the time I unlocked the door to my apartment.

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When we walked into the lobby, it was the usual party scene. There were people everywhere, with drinks in their hands, and food set up on tables around the room. I scanned the crowd quickly, looking for Orlando, but didn’t find him anywhere. I went to the bar and got a drink, a dirty martini, and joined Lisa and some of the other company members.

“He’s not here,” I said to Lisa. “I guess he went home.”

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Well, I’m back home from my week away for training, and while I absolutely LOVE my job, I’m really, really exhausted from it, too. I did 3 afternoon shifts (1-10pm) for the first of the week, after which, I went back to the hotel, had some dinner, and went right to bed. The two day shifts I did weren’t much better (9am-5:30pm), especially since I had to take some of the training manuals to the hotel with me so I could finish reading them. I left early yesterday morning, was home by 1pm, and spent the day with my husband and my kitties, in my pajamas, watching movies. Today hasn’t been much better, as all I want to do is sleep. I’m utterly wiped out from this, and the pressure of being in my own store tomorrow doesn’t help.

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I spent the next few hours pouring over my own notes and making the necessary changes. Though I still had my original manuscript for After Midnight saved on my computer, I chose to pull my dialogue from the hardback copy I was cradling in my lap. To the tune of Sherman’s rhythmic purring, I tweaked the script into what I wanted it to be.

Around two o’clock I was forced to take a break when Olivia called, almost in a full-blown panic.

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When I woke up a few hours later, my entire body hurt. I had to bite my lip to keep from crying out. Orlando was sound asleep in the chair beside my bed, and I didn’t want to wake him. It wasn’t even six o’clock in the morning yet. I gently pushed back my blankets, and went to the bathroom. When I came back, Orlando was standing beside my bed.

“There you are,” he said, smiling as he came to take me gently in his arms. He scooped me up and placed me gently on the bed again. “I’ll let the doctor know you’re up.” He kissed my forehead and left the room.

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I was freezing when I woke up later that afternoon. I rolled over to cuddle Orlando for warmth, but he wasn’t there. Cursing under my breath, I threw back the covers and got to my feet. I needed another blanket, and not knowing where Orlando was, I had to get it myself. I smiled to myself, thinking that I was finally getting to do something on my own, without him hovering over my shoulder.

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Orlando was due to return to his movie set a couple days later. We’d spent two glorious days in bed, watching movies and eating. Lisa joined us when she could, but, unlike me, she still had to work. The day Orlando was to leave, I resigned myself to being without him yet again, telling myself it was only for a few weeks.

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Whenever Orlando called over the next few days, it took everything I had not to tell him about my trip. It was a surprise, after all. I had to start back into training my voice, to get my stamina back, so I didn’t have a lot of time to think about going to see Orlando. I found I was exhausted after only a few songs, and I was having trouble hitting the notes in “Defying Gravity,” neither of which were a good sign. I had an appointment with Dr. Cuthbert, at his office, two days before I was to leave for St. Vincent’s, so I asked him about it.

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Friday morning dawned bright and cold, the perfect New York morning. I went down the street for coffee and a bagel, then went home to wait for the phone to ring. Orlando had taken to calling me every morning before he went to the set, sometimes as early as five or six, and I figured he wouldn’t miss that day. I was right.

“Happy birthday, Orlando,” I said when I picked up the phone. It was just after seven, and no one else I knew would call that early.

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“I believe this is yours,” he said afterward, handing me my discarded bathing suit. He’d already pulled his on, much to my disappointment. He didn’t seem to have any interest in looking at me; in fact, he kept looking away. I put my suit on and we swam back to shore slowly.

Orlando got out of the water first, and spread our towels out over the sand. I jogged up to him, ringing the water out of my hair. He was right there, and yet he seemed to be miles away.

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