15. Genevieve

15

GENEVIEVE

G enevieve's heart pounded in her chest as she stood in Eden's doorway. When the door finally swung open, Genevieve had been faced with someone she didn’t recognise. A sharp stab of bitter jealousy had lanced through her chest at the sight of another woman in Eden’s flat. She could only hope the woman was just a roommate, or something.

Cued by the stranger’s hesitant glance back, Genevieve’s eyes searched further inside until they landed on a familiar figure, curled up on the couch in the cluttered lounge.

Eden’s golden hair, usually so elegantly styled, hung in limp, tangled waves around her face. Her eyes, those impossibly blue pools that Genevieve often found herself lost in, were red-rimmed and puffy. Dark shadows beneath them spoke of a sleepless night. Eden was wrapped in a heavy blanket that swallowed her slender frame, making her appear smaller and more vulnerable than Genevieve had ever seen her.

The sight of Eden in such a state had Genevieve’s stomach twisting with guilt. She had done this. Her cowardice and her inability to face her feelings had reduced this brilliant, beautiful woman to a ghost of her former self.

Genevieve blinked, snapping back to reality at the sound of a throat being cleared. "I was just leaving," the unnamed woman had announced, grabbing her purse from the coffee table. She had glanced back again at Eden as she edged through the door. "Remember what I said." Then the woman had brushed past Genevieve in a swirl of tie-dyed skirts.

"Eden," Genevieve said on her outbreath, fighting to keep the tremor out of her voice. She searched for the right words, but for once in her life, Genevieve was at a loss. How could she possibly express the chaotic emotions swirling within her?

Eden said nothing, her gaze fixed on a point somewhere over Genevieve's shoulder.

Genevieve swallowed hard, forcing herself to try again. "May I come in?" she asked, hating how small and uncertain she sounded. This wasn't her. Genevieve was known throughout the theatre world for her unwavering confidence and commanding presence. Yet here she stood, practically trembling before this woman who had managed to crack open her carefully constructed walls.

For a moment, Genevieve feared Eden might refuse. But then, almost imperceptibly, Eden nodded, wrapping her arms a little tighter around her blanket-clad body.

Genevieve crossed the threshold, her eyes darting around the small flat. It was cozy and lived-in, so different from her own meticulously organized living space. Books were stacked haphazardly on every available surface, while a jumbled parade of shoes in various sizes and styles trailed from the door. This was a home shared by multiple people, clearly filled with different personalities and memories. A far cry from the almost-sterile solitude Genevieve had grown accustomed to.

She closed the door behind herself, the soft click seeming to echo in the tense silence. Eden clambered back slightly to free up room on the other end of the couch, her jumpy movements lacking their usual grace. She gestured vaguely toward the now-open space.

Genevieve sank onto the threadbare cushions, hyper-aware of the gap Eden had created between them as she curled up her legs a little further. The physical distance felt like a chasm, one which Genevieve longed to bridge, but didn't know how.

They sat in silence for what felt like an eternity, neither looking at the other. Genevieve's mind raced as she tried to find the right words. She had rehearsed this moment countless times on the journey over, but now that she was here, face to face with Eden, all her carefully prepared speeches had flown from her brain, replaced by blaring static.

Eventually, unable to bear the silence any longer, Genevieve turned to face Eden. The younger woman still wouldn't meet her eyes, staring instead at her hands, which were clasped tightly in her lap.

"Eden, I . . . I'm so sorry. I was an idiot. I never should have run from you."

The apology hung in the air between them, raw and honest, though sounding woefully inadequate to Genevieve’s ears. She held her breath, waiting to see if Eden would respond.

Slowly, Eden raised her head, her wide eyes finally meeting Genevieve's pleading gaze. The surprise in those blue pools was evident, clearly not expecting such a blunt apology from the usually closed-off director. Genevieve felt a glimmer of hope at the longing she thought she recognized in that stare. It wasn't much, but it was a start. She leaned forward slightly, desperate to maintain this fragile connection.

"I know I hurt you," Genevieve continued, her determination steadily winning its battle against the abject terror that seized her lungs. "And I know that simply saying 'I'm sorry' isn't enough to make up for that. But I need you to understand why I reacted the way I did. I need you to know that it wasn't because I don't care for you. It's because I care too much."

Eden's brow furrowed slightly, a mix of confusion and cautious hope flickering across her features. She opened her mouth as if to speak, then closed it again, obviously waiting for Genevieve to explain herself.

Genevieve took a deep breath, steeling herself to lay all her cards on the table. She had never been good at vulnerability, nor at unmasking her emotions. But for Eden, she would try.

She inched closer on the couch, her hand moving of its own accord toward Eden's. She stopped short, suddenly unsure, her fingers hovering in the space between them. Eden's gaze flickered to Genevieve's outstretched hand, then back to her face.

In that miniscule gesture, Genevieve could see a yearning that rivalled her own. This bolstered her to continue, sure that she could salvage this thing, simply by being honest about her thoughts.

"A few years ago, I was married," she said, fiddling with the frayed edge of Eden’s blanket just for something to look at while she spoke. "I thought I had it all - a successful career, a beautiful home, and a loving wife. But it turns out that I didn't have as much as I thought."

Eden remained silent, but Genevieve could feel the weight of Eden’s attention. Could sense her leaning in ever so slightly.

"I found out she'd been cheating on me," Genevieve sighed, the truth still bitter on her tongue, even after all this time. "For months. With someone we both worked with. I felt like such a fool, so blindsided. I'd been focused on my work, on building my career, and I'd completely missed what was happening right under my nose."

Genevieve was suddenly battling with loose blanket threads she’d absentmindedly furled around her trembling fingers. Without a word, Eden reached out, intertwined their hands, and squeezed encouragingly. The simple gesture nearly undid Genevieve, and she had to take a moment to compose herself before continuing.

"My ex blamed me for the affair . . . said I was always too busy to pay her any attention. I guess she had a point, because . . . after the split, all I could do was throw myself into my work even more. I told myself that I didn't need love, and that my career was enough. I thought I'd never open my heart again." Genevieve stroked her thumb over the back of Eden’s hand a few times before daring to look up at her. "And then I met you."

Eden chewed on her bottom lip, hesitation written all over her soft features as if she were too nervous to speak. Too scared to blurt out anything that might earn a reaction similar to the one she received the last time she revealed her heart. The naked apprehension sent a fresh wave of regret crashing into Genevieve. Somehow, she knew she had to try to articulate just what this captivating woman had done to her.

"From the moment you walked into that audition room, you snared me. Not just with your talent, though God knows you have that in spades. It was your passion, your dedication, and your willingness to be vulnerable both on stage and off. You're the best actress I've ever worked with, Eden. Bar none. But you’re also perhaps the most mesmerising woman I’ve ever met. I was immediately intoxicated."

A faint blush coloured Eden's cheeks at the praise and Genevieve was suddenly overwhelmed by the desire to brush her fingers over that warmth, to feel it against her lips.

"From that first day, what I felt for you terrified me," Genevieve admitted. "I've built my entire career on being in control, on never letting my emotions cloud my judgment. But with you, I felt like I was losing that control. Every time we were together, whether in rehearsal or . . . in private, I found myself wanting more. Wanting things I'd convinced myself I could live without."

Genevieve's free hand clenched in her lap, her nails digging into her palm as she forced herself to continue. "I told myself that it was just physical attraction and that I could keep it separate from our work. But deep down, I knew that wasn't true. I was falling for you, Eden, and it scared me to death."

Eden's eyes were glistening now, and her poor, abused lip had become swollen from her anxious nibbling.

"When you told me you loved me last night, it was everything I'd been longing to hear and everything I'd been dreading. I panicked. I convinced myself that if I acknowledged my feelings for you, everything would fall apart. That letting myself fall for you so desperately would compromise my work, plus the integrity of this production and any future ones. I couldn’t allow myself to be tempted to put my personal desires above my professional responsibilities."

Genevieve let out a bitter laugh. "As if I hadn't already crossed that line a hundred times over. But I was so caught up in my own fear and my own insecurities that I couldn't see what was right in front of me."

She paused, taking in Eden's expression. Eden’s angelic face was a shining canvas of emotions - hope, hurt, understanding, and something else. Something that made Genevieve's heart race.

"I've spent my entire career telling actors to take risks, to be bold and vulnerable on stage. And here I was, too cowardly to do the same in my own life." Genevieve shook her head, a rueful smile tugging at her lips. "Some director I am, huh?"

Eden opened her mouth as if to speak at last, but Genevieve gently pressed a finger to her lips. "Please," she murmured. "I’m almost finished. I need to say this."

Eden nodded, her eyes never leaving Genevieve's face.

"Even with all attempts to keep my heart safe, when you didn't show up today, I felt like my world was falling apart. Not because of the play, though that was a bloody nightmare. But because I couldn't bear the thought that I'd driven you away.”

Taking a breath, Genevieve continued. “I've always prided myself on my ability to separate my personal life from my work. To put the production above everything else. But today, I was watching Mara stumble through your lines. Seeing the disappointment on everyone's faces while I frantically tried to reach you. And I realized something."

Genevieve's voice grew stronger, more certain with each word. "I realized that I care more about being with you than I do about the show's success. And that’s totally alien to me, Eden. It goes against everything I've built my career on. But it's the truth.”

She looked into Eden's eyes. “For so long, I've been living in the worlds I create on stage. Fictional realities where I have complete control and where emotions can be scripted and contained. But you . . ." Genevieve had to swallow around the solid lump in her throat. "You've made me feel more alive than I have in years. You've reminded me what it's like to live in the real world, with all its messy, unpredictable beauty."

Without thinking, Genevieve reached out, gently wiping away a tear that had escaped down Eden's cheek.

The simple gesture seemed to break something open between them. Eden leaned into Genevieve's touch, her eyes fluttering closed for a brief moment. When she opened them again, they were filled with a warmth that made Genevieve's heart soar.

"I've been so caught up in my own fear," Genevieve went on, her hand still cupping Eden's cheek. "Fear of getting hurt again, fear of losing control, fear of jeopardizing the show. But the truth is, none of that matters if I don't have you in my life.

You are extraordinary, Eden. Not just as an actress, but as a person. Your talent, your kindness, your passion . . . they light up every room you're in. And I've been a fool for trying to deny how I feel about you."

Genevieve's heart was pounding so hard against her ribs that she was sure Eden must be able to hear it. This was it, the moment she’d never thought she’d get to with anyone again. Genevieve took a deep breath, gathering every ounce of courage she possessed.

"I love you, Eden," she said, clear and unwavering. "I'm in love with you. And I'm sorry it took me so long to say it. I'm sorry I couldn't say it even though you were brave enough to tell me how you felt. I was scared and stupid, and I hurt you. But if you'll let me, I want to spend a very long time making it up to you."

For a stretched, agonizing moment, Eden simply stared, her expression unreadable. Genevieve felt her heart sink. Had she waited too long? Had she ruined everything by running away?

But then, slowly, a smile began to spread across Eden's face. It started small, just a slight quirk of her lips, but it quickly grew into a radiant, joyful grin that lit up her entire face.

“I thought I was supposed to be the one who delivered the emotional monologues,” she chuckled.

“Oh, stop,” Genevieve huffed, playfully batting the gleeful actress away. Though, only a second later, she couldn’t help but pull Eden into her arms to plant a kiss on the top of her head.

"You love me?" Eden whispered into Genevieve's neck.

Genevieve nodded, another breathless laugh escaping her. "I do. God help me, I do. More than I ever thought possible."

She tightened their embrace, her fingers tangling in golden hair as they clung to each other. Breathing in the familiar scent of roses, Genevieve felt as if she'd finally come home after a long, arduous journey. Though seconds later, she felt Eden's body shaking against hers. It took Genevieve a moment to realize that Eden was crying. Genevieve's own tears fell freely, soaking into the neckline of her wrinkled sweater.

They stayed like that for a long while, neither willing to let go. Genevieve stroked Eden's hair, murmuring soothing words between her own quiet sobs. She poured every ounce of love and regret into her touch, willing Eden to understand the depth of her feelings.

Finally, Eden pulled back slightly, just enough to meet Genevieve's gaze. Her cheeks were flushed, her eyes red-rimmed, but shining with an inner light that took Genevieve's breath away.

"I understand now," Eden said softly, her voice hoarse from crying. "I'm sorry I hid. I should have been stronger. For the play. You held back because you didn’t want our work to be at risk, but I just chucked the whole thing out the window anyway."

Genevieve shook her head, cupping Eden's face in her hands. "No, don't apologize. You have nothing to be sorry for. I'm the one who pushed you away. I'm the one who was too scared to face my own feelings. I’m not surprised you didn’t want to be within a hundred yards of me after the way I treated you. Play or no play."

Eden leaned into Genevieve's touch, a small smile playing at the corners of her lips. "The company is lucky to have such a committed pair," she said, with more of her usual, playful humour.

Genevieve couldn't help but laugh again, the sound mingling with the hoarse remnants of her sobs. "They couldn’t dream of doing better," she agreed, her thumbs gently wiping away the last traces of moisture from Eden's cheeks.

"So, what happens now?" Eden asked, a hint of uncertainty creeping into her voice.

Genevieve took a deep breath, considering her words carefully. "I’m done hiding . . . I want us to be together properly. No sneaking around . . . if that's what you want?"

Eden's response was immediate and emphatic. "It's all I want," she said, her ocean eyes glittering with conviction.

Genevieve felt her heart swell with joy and relief. She leaned forward, pressing her forehead against Eden's. "I want that too," she whispered. "More than anything."

They stayed like that for a moment, breathing each other in. Then, slowly, inevitably, their lips met.

The kiss was soft at first, tentative, as if they were both afraid the other might disappear. But soon enough, neither could resist the urge to deepen it, coming together in a tangle of tongues and hungry lips. Genevieve poured her pent-up emotions into that kiss – her love, her regret, and her hopes for their future together.

Eden responded with equal fervour, her hands coming up to twine into Genevieve's hair. They lost themselves in each other’s hold, the world narrowing down to just the two of them. To the press of their bodies and the mingling of breaths.

When they finally parted, both were panting slightly. Genevieve rested her forehead against Eden's again, unable to stop the wide smile spreading across her face.

"I love you," she said again, revelling in the freedom to say those words.

Eden's answering smile was almost blinding. "I love you too," she replied.

They sat in comfortable silence for a few moments, Genevieve tucking Eden’s head back under her jaw and tracing lazy circles on her back. But as the anxious fog began to clear from her brain, Genevieve knew they needed to address the elephant in the room.

"Eden," she began hesitantly, "about the play . . ."

Eden tensed slightly in her arms but didn't pull away. "I know," she said softly. "I let everyone down today. I understand if you need to replace me."

Genevieve shook her head vehemently. "No, absolutely not. You are Beatrice. No one else could possibly do justice to the role the way you do."

Eden looked up, hope and uncertainty warring in her eyes. "But after today . . ."

"Today was a disaster," Genevieve admitted. "But it only proved how essential you are to this production. Without you there, everything fell apart. You bring Beatrice to life in a way Mara just can’t. We need you, Eden. I need you."

Eden's expression relaxed instantly, a small smile tugging at her lips. "You really mean that?"

"With all my heart," Genevieve assured her. "This show is yours, Eden. If you want it."

Eden was quiet for a moment, her brow furrowed in thought. Then, slowly, she nodded. "I do want it," she said, her voice growing stronger with each word. "We both deserve our moment in the spotlight. After everything we've worked for . . . we owe it to ourselves to see this through."

Genevieve felt a surge of pride wash over her. This was the Eden she knew – passionate, determined, and unstoppable. "I couldn’t have said it better myself," she agreed, squeezing Eden's hands.

Eden's smile broadened, but there was still a hint of hesitation in her eyes. "Will you stay with me tonight?" she asked tentatively. "I think . . . I think I'd like to face the company together tomorrow. If that's okay with you?"

Genevieve's heart swelled at the endearing request. "Of course," she said without missing a beat. "There's nowhere else I'd rather be."