The Final Act

Chapter One - The End

Rory sat in the empty auditorium, his face swathed in grief. She couldn't be gone—not yet. They needed more time, had too many things to do, too many lines to read. She had been his leading lady forever, this last play a love story which paralleled their own.

They had met on set three years ago when they both turned up to audition for The Book Lovers, a light- hearted romantic comedy. They had connected at once. One chance encounter had turned two strangers into lovers. Now they were immersed in Labor of Love, a story of two strangers bonding over insurmountable odds. But, now Angel was gone, and Rory was wallowing in self-pity, anger and blame for not protecting her.

Their story was a labor of love, she struggling to overcome the depression that sometimes made her shut down; he, trying desperately to break through the facade she put on when she was on the stage. Darkness entered her life when she least expected it to, and only by taking on another persona was she able to trudge through. Until she met Rory. He broke through to her other side, leaving her vulnerable and leaning on him for support. Theirs was a love made in hell and nurtured in heaven.

He sat in the soulless auditorium, a place which only took on life when pretense filled its bowels. What played out on the stage was a mimicry of real life, a charade to ease the angst of those viewing it. But, Rory and Angel were living that life in this latest play, effortlessly calling up feelings held deep inside their beings.

Her last rehearsal he knew something was off. She was sinking in front of his very eyes. She didn't need to memorize her lines—they were rising up from deep within as the main character sank further and further into a deep hole. He should have been able to recognize the signs— they had been together through many of her "episodes." But, he chose to think that she was deep in the role. Now he would never forgive himself for not being more in tune with her.

The director told him that the understudy would take over for Angel. Rory knew that was unthinkable. He could never play opposite anyone else. No one could give the part the passion Angel could. She was the only one capable of feeling the depths of depression the role required. But, the show must go on. He would have to grieve later.

As he approached the stage for the final rehearsal he could hear Angel's voice in his ear every time the understudy spoke. She was there with him–she always would be. He would finish Labor of Love with her at his side, in his heart, ever in his being.