Season Three, cont.
We got back into town on Sunday afternoon, exhausted and in a state of bliss but happy that we were back home. Gale carried my bags into the house and left me at the door with a long, deep kiss. I checked my messages and called Allen, happy that the meals had gone well and promising to meet with him as soon as I was back into the groove. Next, I called Stacy to check on her and thank her for taking care of things while I was gone. She asked about the weekend and I told her that I'd give her the gory details the next day. I was tired and after a hot shower, I hit the sack and went to bed.
Cast was back on set the next day and Gale and I went back to being professional friends, sharing touches whenever we could and continuing our Sunday meetings. We were joined by most of the rest of the cast so we couldn't replay the beautiful week that we'd spent together but the feelings were the same. He was still my Gale. Just before the last show, he received word that an audition he'd gone for had panned out and he was to star in a low-budget film called
Particles of Truth
. He'd be shooting in New York once the production was completed and we wouldn't have the chance to say goodbye.
The last episode was the most brutal. Scott's character had descended into drug addiction and the entire cast was affected by his gaunt look. I remember that when I saw that episode, I cried my eyes out. It was so tragic. I prepared the final party as usual but decided not to stay. I couldn't bear to look into those dark eyes which I'd come to know and love so well and know that it would be a long time before I would see them again.
At two in the morning, my doorbell rang and I got up to answer it, surprised to find Gale on my doorstep. He brushed past me, stumbling slightly and I pulled my robe closed, following him into the kitchen. Silently, I watched as he opened the refrigerator, pulled out a leftover slice of quiche, this one made with lobster, and popped a piece in the microwave. He didn't say a word as he grabbed a fork and knife and when the buzzer went off, proceeded to wolf it down as if he hadn't eaten in months.
My phone rang a few minutes later and Thea was on the other end. "Did he make it there?"
"Yes." I glanced over at him. "He's sitting at my kitchen table eating quiche as we speak."
"Good. We were worried. He was upset that he couldn't find you and said that he was going over to your place. Why didn't you stay? The party was a hit, as usual."