Nocturne(102)

“You guys are sweet.” I smiled as I searched through folders of music, looking for a replacement for a sheet I’d dumped coffee on earlier in the week.

“You know,” Tim Flannigan bellowed behind me, “you should come audition for Chicago. You could watch this sweetness all the time.”

Tim had been less and less guarded about flirting with me in front of everyone. He was incredibly attractive and had the talent to match. I skillfully shrugged off his advances, though, despite the possibilities presented by getting involved with someone who wasn’t married.

“Ha.” I shook my head and set the folders down once I found what I was looking for.

“I’m serious, Savannah,” Tim said. “Grace Callahan is leaving. Just got word this morning, actually. She’s taken a job in Atlanta and the spot is available immediately. You should consider it. Do you really want to hunker down through another Russian winter?”

“Right, like Chicago’s any better?” I snickered to push through the uncertainty rising in my throat.

The thought of returning to Moscow for the start of the new season in a few weeks was too much to consider. And, Gregory and I hadn’t talked about it.

“Maybe I will.” I shrugged and gave a half smile, hoping to appease the three sets of eyes trained on me.

“Hell yes, you will!” Nathan held up his hand, requesting a high five. I rolled my hands, then slapped his hand.

“We’re headed to dinner, you want to join us?” Christine laced her fingers with Nathan’s and smiled sweetly at me.

“No, thanks. I need to get together with Gregory to go over our final performance.”

“Don’t let that grumpy bastard work you too hard.” Tim gave my shoulder a quick squeeze, laughing at his own joke.

“Come on, Tim,” I sighed, “he’s not that grumpy.”

Nathan eyed me for a second longer than the other two before the trio left and headed to dinner.

Chicago was a fantastic opportunity, but I had a secure position at Bolshoi, and I wasn’t sure if playing with an American symphony was what I wanted. I had to start mentally preparing to head back to Moscow, leaving my heart here. Kneeling down to slide the sheet music into my bag, I sighed in the thick silence of the dark space.

“Are you okay?” Gregory’s smoky whisper startled me, causing me to jump. “Sorry.” He laughed softly as he knelt down next to me.

Instinctively, I leaned my head onto his arm. I was missing him already and I had to keep my tears in check. “I’m fine. Just getting some music. Ready to go rehearse?”

Gregory stood with elongated grace, leading me up by my hand. He didn’t let go when I was up on my feet, and I didn’t either. “Come to dinner with me.”

“What? We can’t …” I shook my head in confusion.

“Look. We can brush up the pieces later. You know them. I know them. We’re good. But,” he took my other hand and arrested my gaze, “the tour ends at the end of the week and we won’t get a chance for who knows how long to dine together in public, and—”

“Wait … what are you talking about, in public? You mean ever, right? The tour will be over and you’ve got to …” I trailed off, looking down, not wanting to address his need to get back to his life. Or, me getting back to mine.

Gregory slid his fingers between mine and squeezed, forcing me to look back up. His lips were in a hard line and his forehead creased against whatever he was about to say.

“I …” He sighed and ran his free hand through his hair, looking to the ceiling briefly.

“What, Gregory?”

“I can’t do it.”

“Do what?” I tried to pull my hand away, but he gripped mine tighter.

“I can’t simply walk away from you when this tour is over. I can’t stop seeing you. I don’t want to stop seeing you.”

The force with which the air left my body could only be measured in the volume of the gasp that escaped my lips. “No.”

I shook my hand free and reached for my bag. While we were still standing in a darkened backstage area, I felt heat as if stadium lights had just been turned on. My thoughts made no sense as I tried to put them in order. As I tried to form a sentence.

“Savannah.” Gregory tugged gently on my arm.

“You’re married,” I hissed, my eyes automatically flicking around us to make sure no one had slipped uninvited to the conversation.

“I’m aware. I just need some time to work that out.” The indifference in his tone forced me to take a step back.

“Work that out? It’s not a business proposition, Gregory, it’s your marriage.”

“You know my marriage is a disaster. I need to sort that out ... there are things … just hear me out.” He brought his other hand to my other shoulder, tilting his head to the side.

I took a long, slow breath and tilted my chin up, straightening my shoulders. “No, hear me out. When the hell do I get a say here?”

His eyebrows scrunched in apparent confusion, but I didn’t let him speak.

“You were the one who stopped our relationship five years ago—”

He cut me off, “Savannah—”

“Stop. You walked away from us then, Gregory. Then you asked me to have an affair with you. You outlined the parameters of that affair, too. I realize you are the only married one here, but we were both involved and you were the only one making the rules. I followed because I had no choice. It was either follow along with your wants and needs because I’m insanely in love with you, or be alone. You knew that, too. You knew I’d say yes.”