Page 28 of Not His Bride

“Are you ready?” Gallagher asks softly.

“Oh God, yes, please,” I practically moan. “Bring me the Phantom.”

The curtain ripples and the lights drop to black in time with the pit orchestra tuning up with a few careful notes. The second the music starts, I sit forward. I can’t stop smiling.

I’m in awe. They’re acting for us. Each actor makes brief eye contact when needed. Every time the Phantom appears, it’s more intimate. The music hangs a second longer than necessary, like it’s moved in for the kill. I let myself lean back in the chair. This isn’t a performance for the world. It’s for me.

The opening is as good as any I’ve seen, and I’ve seen it three times in my life. But nothing like this.

The graveyard sequence in Act II pulls every trick—fog that saturates the ground, the set pieces look even more expensive up close, the lighting goes blue-black just like the dream versions I used to imagine as a kid.

It’s not the cut version, either. They do the entire number, say every single line.

For the first time since the wedding, I feel something break open that isn’t anger. I’m so wrapped up in it that I don’t notice Gallagher watching me until I feel his energy surround me. He’s not watching the stage; he’s studying my reaction.

Very gently, I put my hand over his. We’re not quite holding hands, but touching him feels amazing.

The rest of the show flies by. When the curtain falls, the entire company turns and bows to us. I jump up and clap as loud as I can. Gallagher does the same, even whistling and hollering. The actors beam. I’d imagine there’s a lot of pressure to put on a full show for only two people.

It seems wrong to leave immediately, so I slump back down in my chair, needing a minute to process the day. I glance up at the chandelier, then down at the blue glow reflecting off the empty rows.

He breaks the silence first. “Better than you remembered?”

My throat tightens. “Much better. They were amazing! This entire experience was.”

“Did I change your mind about the whole graveyard versus chandelier debate?”

I laugh. “Sorry, but no. Though I’ll admit, the chandelier above us is amazing.” That gives me an idea. “Oh my God, Gallagher! What if the next time we do this, they perform in a graveyard!”

He hums. “That’s a great idea. Next time for sure.”

And I’m ready for a next time. “Nobody’s ever done anything like this for me.” It’s a truth I freely give him.

“That’s blasphemous. You deserve the best, Lilith.”

I feel the need to press him to see if he’ll flinch. “You spent a fortune. Assembled an entire crew, full cast, the orchestra…all for this.”

Gallagher shrugs. “Spending money is the easy part. I’ve got to thank my employee, Latrice; she pulled it off. All I did was have the idea and make the demands.”

“Ah, who knew Gallagher Cortez was so humble?”

“Keep that to yourself. I have a reputation.”

I laugh, and for once, there’s nothing strained about it. That might be the part that gets me more than the theater. Sitting beside him feels easy, even though it shouldn’t.

I turn in my seat. “You know the annulment is still happening.”

His expression barely changes. “I know.”

“Tonight doesn’t erase what happened.”

“I know that, too.”

I study him for another second. He doesn’t bargain, doesn’t ask what tonight earned him. He just waits.

“But I think I was wrong about one thing.”

His brows lift.