Page 92 of Solo

His face is stone, his eyes are fire, and when he finally speaks again, his voice is ice.

“Promise me you’ll end it.”

“Or what?”

“Or you’re on your own from here on out.”

No. Surely I’ve misheard—or misunderstood what he’s just said to me. Because to even contemplate the possibility that Russell Atherton would “dump” me three weeks before my final conducting jury is inconceivable.

“You don’t mean that,” I whisper, refusing to accept what I’m hearing.

But his expression tells me otherwise. I could melt into a puddle on the floor and dissolve into tears. I could beg and plead, the way I did when my father did this to me all those years ago. But I am not the same girl I was back then. I stand up, straighten my shoulders, and take a deep breath, never taking my eyes off him.

“Wow. And here I thought my father was the only one capable of breaking my heart. Thanks for that, Russell.”

There’s an expression of disbelief on his face as I turn and walk out of the concert hall, but he doesn’t utter a single word.

Chapter Forty-Three

Drew

When she finally shows up on my doorstep after her lesson, she looks like she’s been put through the wringer. Twice.

“Katherine? What’s wrong? What happened?” I ask pulling her off the porch and into my arms. “You’re late and I was starting to get worried. Did something happen with Russell?”

She shakes her head and I lead her into the den then down onto the couch, pulling her up against me. I hold her there, tight, until she’s finally ready to tell me what’s happened.

“He left me,” comes her voice, small and muffled against my chest.

I push her away slightly so I can see her grief-filled eyes.

“Who left you?”

“Russell.”

“What do you mean, he ‘left’ you?” I ask, feeling myself stiffen with suspicion. I know what she’s going to say even before she says it.

“He—he saw us, Drew,” she tells me shakily. “He says he won’t teach me anymore unless I break it off with you.”

“Son of a bitch!” I hiss under my breath, pulling Katherine back to me.

I rub her back gently and am reminded of that first night. The night she was so sick.

“It’s okay, Katherine. I’ll talk to him.”

She looks up, horror-stricken.

“What? No, Drew, he hates you! He was talking crazy, accusing you of driving his daughter to suicide.”

“Oh, that again?” I say with a chuckle as I tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. “He’s been saying that since the day she…well, since she’s been gone. He needs to blame someone and he can’t bring himself to blame Casey. So, I’m the next logical choice.”

“But…”

“No, ‘buts.’ Come on, let’s go upstairs. You don’t have to work in the morning, do you?”

She shakes her head and I get to my feet, extending a hand to her. She accepts it and I hoist her up.

“Good. I’m off in the morning, too. We’ll get you into a nice, hot bath and you can get some sleep. I promise I’ll square this with him, okay?”