Nocturne(112)

I wasn’t.

No matter how much I wanted it, no matter how much I might fantasize, no matter how much it might seem right, the fact was, he was married to someone else. And that was an insurmountable obstacle.

I answered the phone. “Hello?”

“Am I too late?” Nathan asked.

“No ... I’ve got an hour or so before I go through security.”

“Good ... I’m just looking for parking. Where are you?”

I looked around then gave him my location in the terminal.

After saying goodbye, I sank down on my heels, holding onto my flute bag with one hand and stifling a cry with the other.

I was relieved I’d had the good sense to throw jeans and a t-shirt into my flute bag before the performance last night. I’d intended to change into them before the after party, but I changed in the dirty bathroom of a dive bar at 3 a.m., cramming my green satin dress into the garbage can on my way out the door. It was Gregory’s favorite; I’d worn it when I saw my mother perform on my birthday in 2001. It was the first time I caught Gregory eyeing me in a way that tightened my belly and made my neck hot. Surveying my curves as I’d introduced him to my mother, his eyes barely left my body as he shook her hand.

This was it. This was how my perfect summer with Gregory was ending. Not just my summer. Our story. Over like this—me, alone in Logan on zero hours of sleep, waiting for my 16-hour flight back to Moscow. I hadn’t said goodbye when I should have. I hadn’t been clear with him about going back to Bolshoi, but he hadn’t asked, either.

Honesty.

I shook my head, lamenting over the muddled intentions of that word. Lofty promises and dreams on the horizon. We believed them, though. I believed him when he said he would do anything for me, because I’d meant it when I said it to him. As odd as it seems, I had no reason not to believe him. Gregory had always been honest with me, even in the beginning. Even when I was just his student. He’d always shown me a side of him he never let anyone else see. Who he really was. No matter what truths we’d bent over the years, we were always pure in our interactions with each other.

I can’t do this right now.

He couldn’t do the one thing I needed. In the moment when I held onto his honesty, his word, the tightest, he failed me. I knew he was in the car with his wife, but I didn’t need him to say anything to me other than It’s going to be okay or I’ll call you as soon as I can. Something other than the annoyed and angry dismissal I received. How people behave under intense stress shows a lot about who they are.

And he couldn’t be bothered.

I felt my body shudder, another suppressed sob trying to force its way out of my body.

Nathan’s voice. “Christ, Savannah. You look like shit.”

“I haven’t slept,” I said. I started to cry again.

Nathan sighed. “Ahh, shit.” He slumped down to the floor next to me and pulled me into his arms. And that was all it took to reduce me to a sniveling mess.

“Marcia told me you called her.”

I nodded. “Is she pissed at me for not coming home?”

I felt Nathan’s chin moving back and forth across the top of my head. “No. We were all concerned, though. You just kind of disappeared. Did you talk to him?”

“He wouldn’t talk to me … or couldn’t ...” My tears came harder as I grasped at the fabric of his shirt.

“Fuck,” he whispered.

“I’m so sorry, Nathan.” My voice was louder than I’d intended, given I was trying to speak over my tears.

“No, I’m sorry.” He kissed my forehead and pulled me tighter. I sat up and started my rebuttal, but he cut me off at the pass. “It’s really important that I get this out.”

“Okay,” I muttered, pulling the collar of my t-shirt up and wiping my eyes and nose.

“I didn’t mean to let things get so out of hand last night.” Nathan had let his hair grow out a little over the summer, and his curls were a mess.

“It got intense, Nathan—”

“Savannah, stop. Let me finish, okay?” I nodded, and he continued. “I knew something was going on between the two of you, but that didn’t give me the right to scream it out in front of everyone, let alone your mother … and his wife.” Nathan’s eyes fell away from me for half a second, as he seemed to consider Karin’s title.

“Everything okay, Miss?” A security guard with stern tenderness in his eyes stood over Nathan and me.

“Oh, yeah, sorry. I’m just a total wreck.” I sent him on his way with a weak smile and tied my hair into a pathetic ponytail to try to look a little less destitute.

“Anyway,” Nathan picked up where he left off, “you deserved better from me than to have a secret like that broadcasted. You did an awesome job this summer, and those duets you two did were so incredible. I feel like I took all of that away, and now that’s all people will remember …” he trailed off, wringing his hands.

I reached for his hand and he gave it up, letting me wrap my fingers around his. “That’s all the orchestra will remember, maybe. But not me, not you, and not anyone in the audience. I’m not worried about that, though. I’m worried about what a shitty friend I’ve been all summer.”

Nathan cracked his neck and looked at me like I’d gone insane.