Dark Memories (The Phantom Diaries, #2) (12 page)

BOOK: Dark Memories (The Phantom Diaries, #2)
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I knew I’d have to make the first move.

Unsure how he’d react, I slowly approached him when the last of the musicians left.
 
Alone in the rehearsal hall, the air was suddenly stiff and tense.
 
My throat constricted as I tried to think of something to say.
 
Standing at his side, the silence that engulfed us made us all the more aware of our awkward reunion.

When he reached out to take my hand I sighed, audibly and without restraint.

“Chace,” I whispered with the heaviness of such regret.

“Come walk with me,” he said simply.

With the hope of his complete forgiveness, I pulled on my coat and followed him out to the streets.
 
He held my hand and led me to
Central Park
. Enchanted by the winter wonderland, I allowed myself to relax and take in the beauty of the fresh fallen snow. I inhaled deeply, intoxicated by the cool air that rushed to my lungs.

Chace stopped to buy us each a hot pretzel then found a vacant bench where we could watch the few ducks, geese and swans who wintered there. The scent of our pretzels soon had a black swan trumpeting his way over, eager for a morsel of soft dough.

With a lopsided grin, Chace obliged, nibbling away at the salty outer shell of his pretzel and throwing the softer interior to the eager swan
who
wasted no time getting even closer for more.

Within minutes I was smiling and laughing, remembering Chace’s ability to make me feel like a child again.
 
The swan became more insistent, while Chace teased it and tried to urge it closer still. He soon had it dancing around and craning its elegant long neck for a tiny crumb.

“You always make me laugh,” I said, my eyes on the hungry swan. But I was excruciatingly aware of his proximity.
 
His thigh pressed up against mine and I longed for more of his warmth.

He threw the crumb a few feet away and the disgruntled swan waddled off for its reward.
 
His eyes suddenly grew solemn and the swan no longer interested him.
 
“At least there’s that,” he said.
 
Though he was calm, I could hear the bite in his words.

That heavy silence returned and I couldn’t think of a thing to say to make things better.
 
How could I explain what had happened, what I’d done to him?

“Let’s face it,” he finally said. “I’m no match for someone like Aaron Aragon. There’s no way I could offer you the life that he can… not even close.
 
I understand you have to go out and have dinner with him, meet important people who will advance your career, but the jealousy is driving me crazy. I can’t control how it makes me feel seeing you with him. It’s a slow death and I don’t really think I deserve that.”

“Of course you don’t, Chace.”
 

“It’s not like me to be so violent.”

I nodded and remembered the night he’d snuck into my apartment. He’d been unrecognizable in his rage.
 
To see this sweet boy with the tousle of curls lurking in the shadows like a madman… A chill coursed through me at the thought.

“I almost killed him, Annette,” Chace said, looking at me and knowing my thoughts were also back to that dreadful night.
 
“I hit him with my violin of all things… my violin! How crazy must I be to actually do something like that? It was like trying to kill us both.
Him with the blow, me with the destruction of the very tool of my career.”

“It was under awful circumstances, Chace, and you really shouldn’t kick yourself for it.”

“I’ll be lucky if he doesn’t press charges.”

“I’ve spoken to him, Chace, and he won’t,” I said, hoping to alleviate that concern. He glared at me and I could see that my conversation with Aaron was little solace.

“I’ve been trying to get transferred to another show.”

I turned to him and clasped his hands in mine. “What?
Chace, no.”

“It’s the only way of finding peace in all this hell.”

“But you're so wonderful here and this is one of the biggest productions in
New York
.
 
The world will know who you are from this show.
 
The world will have heard your genius. I hate to see you leave something so important to your career because of me.”

“And in the meantime,” he continued as though I’d not spoken at all, “I think it’s best we not see each other outside the show.”

Tears of guilt lined my eyes and I sought some argument to change his mind.

“Don’t feel responsible, Annette. I knew what I was getting into when I hooked up with you. You're beautiful beyond reason and your immense talent only amplifies that delicate beauty.
 
You're the star of the show while I’m a simple musician in the depths of the pit.”

“You're hardly a simple musician. You’re first chair.”

“If it hadn’t been Aaron Aragon who so vehemently sought your attention it would have been one of the thousands of men waiting in line to just have a chance to meet you.
 
All men of power and wealth who could, and would, give you the world.”

“I hate this. It’s not fair that you should have to go. Chace, I wasn’t myself that night and I can’t bear how I’ve hurt you. You’ve been such a good friend since I’ve arrived and I’ve treated you shabbily.”

“A friend?”
He seemed less than pleased with my view of our relationship.

“Yes.
 
A very, very good friend.”
I brought my fingers to his lips, hoping to make him see just how important he was to me. “A friend I care very much about.”

He tensed and didn’t move for a moment as I traced his lips with my fingertips. I could feel his warm breath on my chilled digit and it made me ache all the more for him.

“Don’t do that,” he finally said, taking my hand away and tucking it at my side.

“I’m only being playful, Chace.”

“I know, but you're only making me want to….” His voice trailed off as he pulled me into his arms.
 
I felt the depth of his emotions as he held me and I could have sworn I’d heard a faint cry of anguish from deep in his chest.
 
His hand reached into my hair and played tenderly at the nape of my neck.
 
Although it was he who’d lived through such pain, he was consoling and soothing me.
 
It was just like him to be so caring and thoughtful, and it made me feel all the more dreadful for having abused his tender nature.

When he pulled back, his eyes were dark and intent on my face.
 
They darted from my eyes to my lips and back to my eyes as though searching for a reason.
 
The question was plain on his face. Why?

I had no logical answer.
None that he would believe, anyway.

My gaze dipped to his lips as they parted and approached, and my heart wanted to feel the heat of his mouth and taste the sweetness of his tongue.
 
I needed his forgiveness and longed for his touch.

I swallowed and closed my eyes, anticipating his kiss. All I could hear as the seconds dragged on was his breathing, resigned and defeated. When his lips touched my forehead, I opened my eyes and hid my disappointment.
 
His kiss was chaste and bereft of passion.

“We’d better get going.” He stood and held his hand out for me.
 
“It’s getting late.”

“Chace?”
I suddenly wondered where he’d be transferred to. Would I still see him? Would he come around the Met just to say hi? Could I call him up to chat and laugh? “Have you had word of a transfer yet?”


San Francisco
might be interested.”

I was stunned and shocked, and almost fell back onto the bench.
 
For some reason I had expected him to get another show here in
New York
. But clear across the country? “But that’s…”

“In
California
, yes.”

“What, did China not have an opening?” I regretted the bitter words the moment they were out, but I couldn’t help feeling like I’d been slapped in the face. Though I wanted to understand his desire to get away, truth was I didn’t.

“Believe me, I tried.”

I gaped at him, trying to find a hint of a smile, anything to betray the joke he was playing on me. Solemn and resolved, he took to the path and led me back to the street.

“But, I don’t want you to leave, Chace.”
 
The statement came out on a wave of an unsteady breath. I didn’t want to be childish and cry, but I could feel a great sob working its way up my chest.

“I can’t sit by and just be your friend, Annette. I wish I could. I wish I didn’t feel everything that I feel for you, but I do. I can’t pretend I don’t, I’m not an actor.
 
It’s one thing to have you think of me as a friend, but to be aware of the love you have for another man is unbearable.
 
And being close enough to you to watch that
love for him grow
is downright excruciating.”

“I don’t think I’m in love with him, Chace.”

“You don’t think?” he asked incredulously.

I ignored the accusation. For crying out loud, I was only eighteen. Did I not have the right to be emotionally confused? Was it not normal for me to not know where to turn with all the events of late? “And I do love you,” I went on.
 
“It may not be the depth of love you want, but I do love and care for you very much.”

He stopped and took my hands in his and clasped them to his chest. “It’s not enough, Annette. I’m sorry. I wish I could be more mature and worldly, and set my emotions aside and just be pragmatic about the whole thing, but I can’t. Honestly.”

“You're not giving me a chance to get all my emotions sorted out. I’ve only be in New York a short while and it’s been a whirlwind of new people, new experiences, and I’m a little confused by it all.
 
I never meant to hurt you, or anyone else, but everything is moving so fast, I can barely keep up.”

“The pain I feel is there nonetheless, Annette. I know myself well enough to know that I need to start anew somewhere else.”

He kissed my fingertips then guided me back to the Met. I wanted to argue with him and find a way to get him to stay. If his career were to suffer because of my immaturity and my uncertainty I would forever blame myself. But there was little more I could say.
 
I didn’t know what I really felt and now was not the time to make some half-baked claim when I didn’t understand all that was going on in my heart.


San Francisco
is beautiful at this time of year and the music scene there is awesome.” Chace spoke matter-of-factly, though I could hear his attempt to sound chipper. “I should have a confirmation from them in a week or two.”

“I’ll miss you,” I blubbered.

His hand tightened around mine and a jumble of emotions had me aching to be in his arms. But when we reached the Met he straightened his shoulders and put on a stoic grin.
 

“Hey, chin up,” he said, consoling me as I felt the flood of tears working its way up to my eyes. “I was the great friend of
New York
’s greatest talent of the twenty-first century. When I see your face plastered on every magazine, I can say I knew you. I even got the chance to kiss you. That’s not a bad thing.”

How sweet of him to try to make me feel better when he actually felt so miserable.

After another quick and amicable kiss on the forehead, he turned and walked away without looking back. My leg twitched to chase after him and his name clung to my throat.

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