Love Unrehearsed

Okay, okay . . . I can do this. It’s not so bad now. Breathe again, slowly. In and out, in and out. I hope this doesn’t take too long. I don’t know how much longer I have until it’s officially too late.

My, those curtains are ornate. That sure is a lot of fabric hanging down from the ceiling. I wonder if all those lights make it hot up there?

I can’t believe Joh

Oh damn, here comes another one. Hold on. Oh wow that freakin’ hurts! Breathe through it, just breathe. One one thousand, two one thousand, three one thousand.

Why now? You couldn’t wait one more day . . . even a few more hours? Impatient little bugger—just like your father.

Breathe through your mouth, Taryn. No one will notice if you don’t make it look obvious.

Should I tell him?

I probably should.

If I say something now, he’s going to freak. He’s already freaking out. No, don’t say anything—not yet.

I can make it. But will I be able to make it to the car?

Count. Need to count. Why didn’t I wear a watch? Oh yeah, I have on this one-hundred-thousand-dollar diamond cuff bracelet on loan from Harry Winston. Count the value of diamonds I’m wearing . . .

bracelet—one hundred thousand, necklace with drop pendant two one hundred thousand, heavy earrings pulling on my earlobes three one hundred thousand . . . just breathe.

Okay, they are getting closer together. Those last two were less than three minutes apart. Tell him.

“Ryan?” I squeaked. “Honey, um, how much longer, do you think?” I adjusted my sitting position.

He looked at his watch that I got him for Christmas. “Maybe ten more minutes. Why? Are you nervous?”

“No,” I breathed out, feigning a smile. “Not nervous.”

“Tar, you’re sweating. Are you okay?” He turned his body to face me.

I breathed out through my clenched teeth. “Bad timing.”

His eyes opened wide. “Timing?”

“Yep—a few days ahead of schedule.”

“Are you saying it’s time? Like now is right now?”

“I can make it. But after they make the a

“When did they start?” he asked, trying to remain calm but not succeeding.

“Earlier,” I replied.

“While we were out on the red carpet?”

“Before that,” I whispered, trying not to moan from the pain. “When she was doing my hair and makeup.”

“Taryn! That was almost five hours ago! We need to go now. Do you need to go now? Tell me if it’s time to go now.” Ryan started to panic. He was already lurching out of his seat.

“Calm down,” I breathed between waves, grabbing a hold of his tuxedo jacket sleeve to pull him back into his seat. “We’re okay. But I suggest we don’t linger.”

As soon as I spoke, another blast of excruciating pain shot through my abdomen. I held my breath and scrunched my eyes together. They were coming on faster and harder.

“Taryn, if we need to go, we go. I’m not going to get this anyway. It’s not worth putting you two at risk.”

“You don’t know that.” I hated that he was being so pessimistic. He was brilliant.

“We can go if you need to go,” he said, already sounding defeated. “It’s all right.”

“No,” I stated adamantly, gritting my teeth. “We’re not going anywhere until we hear your name called and they open that envelope. This is your moment. A once-in-a-lifetime moment. I can stick it out.”

I breathed through my pursed lips. “But I think it’s safe to say that the little tiger and I are not going to make it to any after-parties tonight,” I said, trying to add some levity to the situation.

“Honey,” he started to argue.

“Stop. There is no way in hell we are going to miss this,” I whispered. “We have time.” I had to lie—he was freaking out enough for the both of us.

I grabbed his hand. We would go through this together, just like we’d done everything else . . . united as a team.

The enormous curtain dropped over the stage after the lifetime achievement award presentation ended.

“The camera is going to pan to us when they a

“I know. The camera has pa

“Are you sure you want to wait?”

“Yes, just shut up already.” I gri

Well, you know what I mean.”

His shiny leather shoe slid across the floor and tapped gently into my low heels.

The music started.

“Please welcome two-time Best Lead Actor Academy Award wi

Ryan squeezed my hand and I could see he was holding his breath, too. He took my elbow in his hand and helped me stand up to applaud the actors walking out onto the stage. The five amazing and talented men each a

I smiled so proudly as Ryan’s name was a

Ryan, of course, rubbed his forehead while smiling.

I was so proud of him—it made enduring the pain worth it.

No matter what happened with his career from this moment forward, Ryan was now—officially—an Academy Award nominee.

He squeezed my hand tightly, holding our hands to his lips. We both stared off at the floor while each second seemed to last minutes.

“And the Oscar goes to . . .”

I held my breath while the excitement and contractions rippled through me.

Ryan was holding my hand so tightly my fingers were starting to tingle from lack of circulation.

“Ryan Christensen—Isletin.”

I think I screamed.

Everyone stood up to applaud—everyone. Famous directors, famous celebrities, famous musicians—the entire audience rose to applaud for him.

Ryan looked like he’d been punched in the gut. He leaned over and kissed me. I couldn’t stop smiling; I was giggling with excitement. He kissed me again, rubbing his hand over my stomach before heading toward the steps to the stage. Tears of happiness slipped from the corner of my eyes.

You could see in his priceless expression that he was shocked to have won. I hoped this overwhelming moment wouldn’t render him speechless. He was visibly shaken; at least, visibly to me. His mouth hung open in disbelief and his hand nervously rubbed his forehead as he climbed the steps.

I stood and clapped for him, enduring each painful contraction bravely as my body readied itself to give birth to our child.

I watched in awe as five of the most iconic actors of our time each shook Ryan’s hand and gave him congratulatory pats and hugs. His heroes, his mentors, the men he had admired and respected and strived to be like all welcomed him into their ranks.

Ryan stood at the podium with his beautiful gold statue clutched in his hands, still completely blown away that his dream had come true. He had finally achieved his greatest desire. His career as an artist had reached its highest peak.

“Thank you,” Ryan said repeatedly into the microphone. His eyes were locked on mine.

Everyone sat down in anticipation of his acceptance speech.

He had been dragging his feet about preparing until finally last night I made him write down what he would say if this moment were his.