Taking a deep breath, he spoke. “My name is Seth Rafferty.”

Heather narrowed her eyes. “What are you doing?”

“My plane was late getting in so I missed introductions. So I thought I’d do mine now.”

She got it immediately, that he’d planned this out—for her. That Lexie had set her up to meet him. But she played along. “Intros are for the actors, not the crew.”

He smiled slightly and she melted. God, she’d missed his face.

“For one night only,” he said, “it’s for the crew too. Well, for one crewmember. And just for you. Now stop interrupting. Where was I? See, this is why I’m not an actor.”

She put her hand over her mouth to suppress a giggle and took a step closer.

“Oh yes. I was at the beginning. My name is Seth Patrick Rafferty.” He met her eyes. “And I’m a Production Designer. A good one, even. I worked hard to become one. Came out of poverty, worked every job in between to get to where I am. I’m what you call a success story.”

She nodded, encouraging him to go on.

“Because I’ve had so much success, I wanted to give back. I offered to do the 24-Hour plays, design and construct furniture so I could give arts back to the kids who need it. It meant I’d be working carpentry again, but hey, those are my roots. I could deal with that. I’m proud of my roots.”

He clapped his hands together and she could tell he was nervous. It was sort of impressive he’d made it so far through his monologue, being a crewmember and all.

“Urban Arts welcomed the proposal,” he continued. “They were crazy about it, in fact. Everyone was.” He narrowed his eyes. “Except this one person. She hated the idea. Loathed it. Despised—”

“She thought it was a shit idea.”

“You get the picture then.” He caught her eye again and she shivered. “Funny thing was, this woman, this sassy little diva—it really bothered me that she hated my idea.”

She’d wondered about that before, wondered why he’d been caught up with her in the first place. “She was just a silly movie star. Why did you care?”

“Do people usually interrupt during the introductions?”

“No, but—”

“Then shush. Please.” He waited until Heather closed her mouth to continue. “In answer to your question, there was something about her that made me care. Not just about whether she liked the construction idea, but about what she thought of me. Problem was she didn’t like me. At all. I think she might have hated me more than she hated my carpentry plan.”

“I never hated you. I wished I hated you.” Her voice was barely above a whisper.

“Well, I wished I hated you too. But I didn’t. Not for a minute.” His words were equally soft, but strong all at the same time. In the subtext, Heather heard the depth of not-hate Seth had for her. It caught her off guard, made her lose her breath.

Seth continued, unaware of the effect he was having on her ability to bring air into her lungs. “And when I realized the reason that you, uh, disliked me—because of what I did, well, I judged you. Not only because I wanted to put you in your place, but because I thought that if there was any chance that you could like me, any chance at all, then I wanted you to like me for me. Not for what I did or didn’t do.”

He looked at a spot on the stage floor. “And I’d been burned before. My ex-girlfriend—ex-fiancée, actually—left me because of who I was.”

“Ex-fiancée?” She swallowed her jealousy.

“Yes. Several years ago. She left me when she found out about my past.”

“Ouch.”

“Exactly. I could tell you more about her if you want. Because I won’t hide anything from you anymore. But it’s really a boring story and what I felt with her—well, now I know it was nothing. Nothing compared to… Well.”

“Maybe you can tell me about her. Someday.” Someday. Did she mean to give him a someday? Yeah, she did.

“Then I will. Someday. Anyway, it influenced why I did what I did. Why I lied. I know it’s not an excuse…”

Heather took a step toward him. “It counts. Being hurt in the past definitely changes how we act in the present.” How could she not give him that when the past had been so much of what dictated her life for so long? Dictated how she’d behaved with him. “And I was a stuck-up bitch.”

“You had your reasons too.”

She shook her head. “But it was wrong to judge you.”

Seth took a step toward her. “See, that’s just the thing. I was all pissed because I felt like you were judging me. But in reality, I judged you. I decided that you needed to learn a lesson. That you needed to change. Because you were a person who could never see beyond someone’s outside to find what was inside.”

He took another step toward her and Heather felt the warmth of his nearness now, felt the chill she’d endured for weeks finally disappearing with the gap between them.

Seth swallowed. “I was wrong. You could see beyond a person’s outside. You did. You saw me, Heather. The real me and you…you cared for me.”

“I loved you,” she corrected. She couldn’t let him diminish what she’d felt—what she still felt.

He smiled. “You loved me.” He said the words as though they were precious and fragile. “And while I was hoping to change you, I had no idea how much you would change me. For the better.”

His body twitched as though he wanted to move even closer, bridge the final distance between them. He could do it with five steps. Instead, he did it with his words. “I love you, Heather Wainwright. The only emotion I feel nearly as deeply as that one is regret. I am so sorry that I hurt you and that what I did took away the most amazing thing I’ve ever had in my life. If I could turn back time I’d do it differently, I swear.”

“I wouldn’t.” The words were out of her mouth before she could stop them. She looked away, suddenly shy in her honesty. Studying her shoes, she went on. “I mean, you hurt me. But truthfully, I don’t think I’d ever have let you get close enough to hurt me if things hadn’t gone down like they had.”

Seth opened his mouth to say something, but she cut him off. “Look, I can’t play what if. I don’t know what would have happened. What I do know is that you changed me too. You taught me how to let go of the past. How to move on.”