Jeff knew better than to ask, but her best friend saw how often she slunk onto the couch to watch reality TV reruns in the middle of the night, how little she ate, the puffiness of her eyes. She told herself she should be over it. She should have moved on. But each day got harder, not easier. Each rehearsal was more brutal than the last.
Tammy had blocked all the scenes in workshop in her signature way designed to help the audience suspend their disbelief that all interactions happen through song, in a foreign language no less. She was fond of passionate love scenes and the casual draping of her actors over the furniture on her set, resulting in staging that sometimes looked more like a frat house living room at the end of the night than any high art.
Bobby and Min stood in the center of the room in one of those classic awkward duet poses as they worked through theManonduet. Bobby stood behind her, but slightly to the side so that his face was clearly visible over her shoulder. His arms wrapped around her waist, her arms covering his so she appeared to be hugging both herself and him simultaneously. Tammy always stressed how important the angles were, that they always make sure they hit their marks exactly.
Min wasn’t paying attention to the angles, though. She was too busy watching Dr. Jacobs, the way his forearms flexed beneath his rolled-up shirt sleeves as he clenched and unclenched his fists, the tension in his jaw, the darkness of his eyes, lately more grey than blue. She had struggled with the duet for the last month. She couldn’t sing it without seeing Dr. Jacobs’ eyes blazing, without feeling his forehead pressed to hers as he said goodbye.
Tammy ever so slightly angled Bobby’s hips away from Min. Used to this type of physical manipulation, Bobby dutifully turned his upper body to match his lower.
“That’s it,” the director said, waving to Dr. Jacobs to begin again as she walked to the edge of the performance space and crouched low to watch her actors, her weight balanced on the balls of her feet.
“From theadieu,” Dr. Jacobs said, “Make me feelit this time, Min,” he challenged, raising his baton and scanning the assembled faces to be sure his singers were at the ready.
Fire flashed in her belly at the challenge. How dare he push her on this piece of all pieces after everything that’d happened between them? And why did she still feel the need to rise to his challenge?Because you’re better when you sing with him,a little voice niggled at the back of her mind.Because you’ve been holding back and you both know it.
With an inhale, they began, marionettes bound to his baton. Min noted, for the umpteenth time in the last few weeks, that he didn’t wink – his signature wink before the downbeat had been missing since that day in his office when he put an end to any possibility that they could be together. Or maybe she was imagining that he had grown more detached from everyone. Maybe he was just more detached from her.
Right on cue, Bobby kissed her cheek as she sang, but she barely felt it. Her eyes were trained on Dr. Jacobs – not just his baton or the graceful arcs of his arm as he conducted, but his sharp eyes, the intensity burning there. Heat rushed through her as her body remembered how it felt to have that intensity focused on her. She closed her eyes, feeling Dr. Jacobs watching her, zeroing in on that awareness and the knowledge that he had made his choice.
And she sang. Wrapping herself in the grey blue of his eyes, breathing lemongrass and cedar with every breath, she let the music overtake her. Tears rolled down her cheeks as the music poured from her, her voice breaking as she sang her goodbyes totheirlittle table, the one they never got a chance to have.
Bobby’s arms tightened around her and she leaned into the support of his body. He angled his face back to the exact mark Tammy had set and took over the final section of the scene. Just in time. She wasn’t sure she could keep singing with the tears clogging her throat.
“Now turn her towards you,” Tammy directed from her position on the floor.
Bobby obliged, moving one hand under Min’s chin and turning her face towards him, careful to keep his mouth ever so slightly off center, forcing the path of his sound out to the audience instead of directly into her ear.
“And together,” Tammy instructed again, as they leaned their foreheads against each other, landing exactly in time for the final note, suspended by Dr. Jacobs’ outstretched baton.
Min and Bobby froze, faithfully holding their position and characters until Dr. Jacobs lowered his baton to his stand. She was grateful for the extra few seconds to gather herself, to swallow down the lump in her throat and make sure her legs could hold her. Dr. Jacobs’ shining eyes held her pinned, his shoulders tense and jaw clenched. Finally, he looked away, breaking the spell with an exhale as he scrubbed his hand over his face.
“That’s enough for today,” Tammy said.
With a quick squeeze of each other’s hands, a shorthand established long ago to share admiration with each other during a scene, Min and Bobby parted and exited the stage. She wiped the tears from her eyes and headed straight for a spot beside Maria, gratefully accepting the bottle of water she extended.
“If I didn’t know better, I’d say you two were a thing,” Maria teased, gesturing to Bobby.
“He’s a great scene partner,” Min replied.
“Is that a euphemism?” Maria asked, barely containing her smirk.
Min shook her head and tried not to stare at Dr. Jacobs at the podium. She turned her attention to her score, noting the minor changes that Tammy made during the rehearsal. Every time she caught sight of Dr. Jacobs, his voice resounded in her head:I will want you every day for the rest of my life.
She dug the heels of her hands into her closed eyes, pressing until she saw stars so that maybe, just maybe, she wouldn’t see his eyes looking at her like he wanted to consume her and run from her all at the same time.
“Can I see you outside for a minute?”
The familiar gravel and silk voice pulled her back to herself. She hadn’t noticed Dr. Jacobs’ approach. Jeff had taken over on the podium and was setting the tempo with the accompanist, readying himself to conduct theCarmenduet as Bobby and Maria took their places on stage – rehearsal continuing as usual. She nodded and followed him through the double doors and out into the hall.
They were barely around the corner when he grabbed her hand and pulled her into the dressing room, her skin buzzing where they touched. As the door closed behind them, he pushed her back against the cold metal, his palms flat on the door on either side of her head, anguish clouding his eyes. The music floating in from the rehearsal space was muted but Bizet’s love duet was still unmistakable– a reminder that they weren’t really alone.
“I can’t stand seeing his hands on you,” he growled, his voice tight through his whisper.
“It’s just a scene.”
“I know. I still hate it.” His lips were so close to hers, and his lemongrass scent was all around her. “Tell me you’re not fucking him,” he pleaded.
“I’m not,” she breathed.
