Livid, I stomped down the steps and headed straight toward him. “Do you have any idea how much I hate you right now?”
“Hate isn’t something that can be adequately measured.”
“You just ruined the one great relationship I had in this city. You just made him dump me.”
“Good,” he said. “I did you a favor.”
“Is this how you’re planning on getting me to talk to you again?”
“Part of it.”
“It’s not going to work.” I pressed my finger against his chest, emphasizing every syllable. “I told you that you would have to fucking beg me, and since I know that’s not how you operate—”
“You don’t know how I fucking operate.”
“Are you going to walk me to the subway station every morning?”
“I have a fucking car.”
“Walk me back from rehearsals?”
“Same answer.”
“Actually treat me with some goddamn respect?”
He cupped my face in his hands. “If you give me a chance to…”
I stepped back, still angry. “I’m not holding my breath.”
Omission (n.):
Inadvertently leaving out a word, phrase or other language from a contract, deed, judgment or other document.
Aubrey
Subject: Brian-gate.
I’m not sure how many more times I’ll have to apologize for making your “boyfriend” dump you, but I am, in fact, sorry. Then again, maybe I should have waited until after you fucked him so you could be more appreciative.
—Andrew
“Ugh!” I tossed my phone across the room, nearly knocking over the beautiful vase of lilies he sent me yesterday.
Ever since last week’s “Brian-gate,” I had to face him every day in some capacity. In the mornings, he personally brought me my favorite coffee, walked me to the block where my subway stop was, and apologized profusely. In his own way, of course.
I never said a word back, though. I just sipped from my cup and listened.
Taking a seat on my couch, I grabbed an ice wrap and placed it on my shoulders. I was counting down the days to opening night, wondering how much more pain my body could take.
My feet were now unrecognizable; I no longer soothed their cuts and blisters. The muscles in my arms ached relentlessly, and when I told Mr. Ashcroft that I needed a few extra minutes to stretch my right leg yesterday, he said, “Then I need to replace you with a dancer who doesn’t.”
I cringed at the memory and heard a knock at my door.
“Coming!” I walked over and opened it, tempted to slam it shut once I saw Andrew.
“Yes?” I asked.
“Practice starts in an hour. You’re going to be late.”
“I’m not due there until the afternoon session. Thank you for the reminder.”
“Can I come in until then?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“Do I really need a reason?”
“I just want to talk to you for a few minutes, Aubrey.”
“We can do that over the phone.”
“You blocked my fucking number.” He narrowed his eyes at me. “I’ve tried that already today. Twice.”
“Have you tried email?”
“Aubrey, please…” He actually looked sincere.
“Fine.” I held the door open. “But you have to leave in five minutes so I can take a nap.”
He stepped inside and looked around, running his hands over the artwork in the halls.
Looking slightly impressed, he rubbed his chin. “Are your parents paying for this?”
“No, I haven’t spoken to them since I left.” I admitted. “A retired dancer from the company rents out all her condos to the newest cohorts.”
“Is it expensive?”
“Not at all.” I sat on the couch. “It’s the only way I can afford to live in this part of town. Otherwise, I’d be sleeping in a cardboard box.”
He stared at me for a while, not saying a word.
“What is it?” I asked.
“Nothing. It’s just been awhile since you spoke a full sentence that wasn’t filled with malice.”
“Don’t get used to it.” I winced and placed another ice wrap on my shoulder. “I’m just trying to make your five minutes with me somewhat memorable.”
“They will be.”
Silence.
He walked over and sat next to me on the couch. “You got an A on your final assignment at GBH.”
“Did you give it to me out of sympathy?”
“I gave it to you because your work was the best.” He looked into my eyes. “Although, I could have done without the “FYI: Mr. Hamilton used to fuck me in his office” note that was at the end.”
I held back a laugh.
“Jessica misses you by the way.”
“Really?”
“She claims I was much more desirable when you were around,” he said. “And apparently she used to listen to us have sex.”
“What?”
“There’s no point in even trying to fire her anymore…I think she grew on me.”
“Do all the interns still hate you?”
“No.” He smiled. “For some strange reason, they started to like me shortly after you left.”
“Are you insinuating that your asshole behavior was my fault?”
“No.” He pulled me into his lap and took the ice wrap away. “I’m insinuating that I no longer pretend to care about any interns when my favorite one is missing.”
I blushed and he started to massage my shoulders—slowly kneading his hands against my skin.
I shut my eyes and exhaled, slightly tilting my head back instead of telling him to stop.
“Do you plan on ever accepting my apology?” he asked, pressing a kiss against my neck.
“No.”
“Is there any way that I could make you?” His fingers gently rubbed my collarbone, alleviating the pain.
“You could tell me the real reason you’re in New York…” I felt him unsnapping my bra. “I know you didn’t come all the way here just to see me.”
He kissed my shoulder. “You don’tknow that.”
“I’m serious, Andrew.”
“As am I.” He pressed his palms into my back, temporarily rendering me speechless. “You’re a huge part of the reason why I’m still here, actually.”
“And the other part?”
He tilted my head back so I was looking directly into his eyes. “The other part doesn’t really matter.” He looked as if he wanted to kiss me, but he held back.
Instead, he slipped his hands underneath my legs and flipped me over so I was lying in his lap. “What time is your rehearsal again?”
“Four…” I barely managed. His touches felt too good.
“Can I drive you?” He softly kneaded the back of my shoulders. “I can do this to you for longer if you don’t take the subway…”
I nodded and shut my eyes, falling asleep at the mercy of his hands.
Hours later, Andrew pulled over to the curb at Lincoln Center.
I unbuckled my seatbelt and looked at him. “Are you going to be standing outside the ballet hall when I get done today?”
“Probably.”
“With hot chocolate?”
“Would you prefer something different?”
I smiled. “No…”
He leaned over and tucked a strand of hair behind my ear. “I thought I was doing the right thing by kicking you out that night, by pushing you away…It was definitely a mistake.”
“I’m not coming back to you just because you said that.”
“I didn’t ask you to.” He trailed his finger against my lips. “I would, however, like you to consider forgiving me.”
“I’ll think about it. Just because you—”
His lips were on mine—kissing me, begging me, saying all the things he couldn’t say with words. And this time I was listening, missing everything we once had before he pushed me away.
Not letting me go, he ran his fingers through my hair and caressed my neck.
“Go think about that,” he whispered, slowly pulling away from me.
“Um…” I struggled to catch my breath as he stepped out to open my door.