It didn't matter how many times he had seen her part the red curtain and step on stage, the moment she made her appearance always left him breathless. She looked so beautiful in her red dress with its many layers of sheer tulle. Her shoulder-length ringlets were black and glossy making him wish for arms long enough to reach out and wrap them around his finger. The expression on her face with all of its serenity masked the confidence and excitement he knew she was feeling.
Dez had seen West Side Story so many times that he knew every line by heart, but watching Trish on stage was so thrilling he knew that he would never grow tired of it. There was this magic in her work. On stage, she let go of her carefully crafted persona and expressed emotions of the rawest kind. People were quick to compliment her skill in acting, but Dez knew differently. The emotions she expressed looked genuine because they were genuine. On stage, she was real in a way that she rarely let herself be in real life. Seeing her smiles and tears gave him a glimpse not at Maria but at the soul of the strong and beautiful girl he loved.
Yes, he was in love like he never had been before and never would be again. Trish had captured his heart completely and held him for a ransom that he knew that he would never be able to repay. He wanted nothing other than walking through with her hand-in-hand. It thrilled his heart like nothing else to be able to call her Trish Wade and to know that she had promised to stay by his side forever. He would never be able to understand why she had chosen him, and he would live his entire life to prove that her confidence in him wasn't in vain.
He had always dreamed of falling in love, but he had not known that it would mean this. The girl would be beautiful he knew. Yet, never in his wildest dreams had he imagined a girl with eyes so deep that her beauty would regularly take his breath away. After his long wait, he had known he would never stop being thankful for having found her. Trish, though, left him feeling like a peasant kneeling before a queen—completely and utterly unworthy. It wasn't like he didn't appreciate himself. No, if anything she showed him more of his own worth than ever before, but every day with her taught him more about how much of a gem he had found in her. Being able to watch her on stage was just icing on the cake of a reality that exceeded every dream that he had ever had.
Sure, it wasn't always easy. Thinking that it would be was foolishness considering how stubborn they both were. Yet, through the arguments no matter how bitter or petty, they learned to appreciate each other more. And Dez learned more about himself and his areas of need in those times then he ever did. He found himself thankful to her for help and amazed to see himself growing stronger and braver by the day.
He couldn't imagine a life without her now even though that is what the first fourteen years of his life had been. The day that they had met his life had changed infinitely for the better. It had taken him years to realize it, but now he couldn't help but see that the spark had been there even from the first. He had been drawn to her like a magnet to a shiny piece of metal. She had been so different from the type of girl that he had imagined loving, but he couldn't keep his eyes off her. He had found her beauty attractive. Yet, what captivated him was that fact that she was completely, inexplicably adorable. He couldn't help wondering how a girl who was so strong and bold could be so cute. However, the simple fact remained that she was. He had found himself always captivated, always interested, always invested in their relationship. One day, he had just looked at her and known that it was it. He was head over heels for her, and he always would be.
Sometimes remembering that he would never have to get over her brought him to tears. She was really his and he was really hers; they were forever Dez and Trish. As the curtain closed at the end of the act, only respect for her kept him from yelling, "that's my wife. that's my wife".
He entered her dressing room after three hard knocks. She was touching up her makeup. He knew better than to kiss her freshly powdered cheeks, so he merely squeezed her shoulder and said, "You killed it, babe".
"Gawker," she said. Her eyes didn't leave the mirror. "I see we're looking all creepy stalkerish today."
"Yeah, like you can do anything about it," he said sarcastically. "You'd have a hard time finding a law in the books against staring at your own wife, but if you'd like I'll tear my eyes away." His tone was serious as he finished.
"You doof," she laughed. "Haven't you always been obsessed with me? You're lucky you look cute doing it or…" She gave a push in his middle.
He stepped forward. "You know you love it. You always have," he said winking at her. He wrapped one of his fingers around a curl. "I love you, Trish. That's all I kind think about when I see you."
"I love you too," she said, eyes thankful. "Now, get your dirty hands off my curls."
"As you wish," he said playfully. As he stared at her in the mirror, another wave of thankfulness washed over him. He was in love, and it was the best thing that had ever happened to him.
Author's Note: I'm not sure exactly how this happened. It's an overly sappy, cliche attempt at a beautiful, romantic fic. I think Michael Buble says it all a lot better in his song "Everything". I hope reading it wasn't a waste of your time. For those who are wondering, I'm still planning on posting the next chapter of Seven Years soon.