Nocturne(67)

“Oh!” Savannah seemed startled as her smile faltered on her lips. “Sorry.” She looked around the open space.

“No need to apologize. I’m just getting some air.”

I didn’t like the way Nathan Connors was eyeing me. It likely had to do with whatever Savannah told him about the last time we saw each other face-to-face, as I recklessly dismissed our relationship on the steps of my townhouse. I wondered if Savannah had received any of the emails I sent her in those first few weeks. She didn’t reply to any of them. Once Madeline told me Savannah had left for Europe, I stopped emailing. Putting an ocean between us was signal enough. She wanted nothing to do with me.

“Can you give us a minute?” Savannah turned toward Nathan, who looked shocked at her request.

Not as shocked as I felt.

“Savannah …” Nathan cocked his head to the side as he took a frustrated breath.

“Nathan …” she retorted mockingly, mimicking his head tilt.

“You’re impossible.” He shook his head, gave her a playful smile, and headed inside without another word.

The click of the doors shutting behind him lingered in the space between us, as she slowly turned around to face me. Her eyes were dark, longing, as she walked slowly toward me. My heart echoed the sound of her heels clicking against the paved patio as she walked toward me. Uneven steps. Uneven beats.

“I’m sorry I rushed off at the beginning of dinner,” she started.

I waved my hand. “No worries.” She laughed. Oh, her laugh. “What?” I asked.

“That thing you do with your hand. You do that when you’re annoyed. You did that at my audition … and any time I came to your office.”

“Any time you came into my office, Savannah, you were ready to argue points that didn’t need arguing.” I chuckled, sipping more of my drink, until the ice clinked against my teeth.

“Fair enough.” She nodded. “How have you been? You and Karin, huh?” Her eyes were honest, endearing. With just a hint of the fire that sucked me in the first time I ever saw her.

“Yeah …”

“Everything okay?” She crossed her arms and took a step closer. Just close enough for me to smell the lilies.

“I’m sorry, Savannah,” I blurted out as I set my glass down behind me and shoved my hands into my pockets.

She swallowed hard, her cheeks turning pink. “Gregory, you don’t have to—”

“No,” I stopped her, “I do. It was cruel of me to treat you the way I did that day. I thought at the time I was doing what was best for you, and for me ... but you deserved better from me.”

“Look,” she cleared her throat mmmand looked down for a moment before capturing me with her glistening gaze, “I didn’t ask to speak with you so you could apologize. I wanted to tell you that I’m fine. Everything is fine and the past is in the past, okay?” She started to turn for the door.

“Savannah, wait.” I reached out, taking hold of her hand.

She stopped and faced me again. Her lip was trembling slightly, and her eyes looked conflicted. She laced her fingers between mine. “What?”

“I …” I gently tugged her hand so she would take one more step toward me. My head was spinning, and I couldn’t tell if it was from the gin or the feel of her hand in mine.

Our toes were touching and I stared into her eyes before my gaze fell to her cheeks, then her lips. The pull I felt to the woman standing before me was undeniable. Startling. It felt like we were standing on Madeline’s porch five years ago. My lips parted as I fought to say something to get out of this. To get out of holding hands with Savannah at our friends’ wedding.

Savannah bit her lip and gave a long sigh, leaning in so her mouth almost touched my ear. “You should go home to your wife, Gregory,” she whispered before freeing her hand from mine and walking back inside without a backward glance.





Gregory


Walking home from checking in on James and Madeline’s house, as they were off on their honeymoon, I found myself enjoying the silence. Peaceful silence. The kind of silence that allows you to hear the leaves hum the wind’s song. Not the kind of dreadful emptiness that I knew awaited me at home.

Karin had never been one for the silent treatment. We actually hadn’t fought much at all until recently. She wanted to reopen the baby discussion, I told her that one a.m. simply wasn’t the time, and I went to sleep. For three days I found myself watching the calendar, begging for the summer tour to start so I could escape the constant scrutiny.

Tossing my keys on the door upon entering my home, I saw Karin curled up on the couch in the formal living room, dabbing her eyes with a tissue. She seemed startled by my entrance and turned toward the south-facing window. Away from me. My chest felt heavy, seeing her in such a state. The silent anger I could handle. Hearing the sniffles of falling tears, however, I couldn’t. She was beyond mad, now. She was hurting.

“Karin.” I exhaled slowly and made my way to the couch, sitting gently next to her. She hadn’t changed out of her pajamas yet, and her hair was snarled about her head.

“Leave me alone, Gregory. Please.” Her voice shook as she rested her head on her knees.

Ignoring her, I placed my hand softly on her back.

“I said leave me alone,” she repeated with no hesitation.