Page 91 of If I Were Yours

But tonight, I’m simply too exhausted. I have been for several nights.

“Are you okay?” Lucia asks when we stop in the hallway, about to enter our respective dressing rooms.

“I’m not sure,” I say honestly. I’ve known Lucia for several years, and even though I don’t want to give her the disheartening details of my problems, it feels good to admit this to her.

She releases the door handle and comes to lean against the wall beside me, saying discreetly, “If you want to talk, just say the word. I’ll just tell the guys I can’t come anyway.”

“Thanks,” I say, genuinely grateful. “But I need to be alone tonight. Maybe another night, though?”

“Of course. Just say the word.” She gives me a friendly pat on the arm and a half smile before she retreats to her dressing room.

The first thing I do after closing the door behind me is grab my phone from my jacket pocket. I’m anxious to see if there are any updates from Grigory on Clara. He usually texts in the evenings to let me know how the day has been.

Clara is hanging on by a thread, and I keep worrying that me leaving was a stupid decision that will break the camel’s back. But so far, it seems to be the right thing to do.

She’s not doing better—she probably won’t until we get to talk—but it’s not going downhill either. She’s been focused on the audition, which went so well that she got called back in. And today, there should be an update about how the second round went.

I was incredibly proud when Grigory texted me the news. I wanted to call her and congratulate her, or even better, go home and say how proud I was while I held her in my arms. I wanted to tell her how close we both are to achieving our dreams. But that notion only brought me to think of the sacrifice I have to make to achieve that dream—the hurt I’m about to cause her. And myself.

It didn’t take me many days away from her and Grigory to realize there’s only one right thing to do. It took me a little longer to accept it, but I’m finally getting there. I’m finally ready to tell them both, which is a good thing since we’re having a much-needed talk when I get back ina few days.

Hopefulness jitters inside me as I turn on the screen and tap the text from Grigory. But the words on the screen are nothing like what I expected.

She left.

I stare, baffled, at the words.What the hell does he mean?Anger surges through me as I tap his name and call him. Alarm builds in my system with each unanswered ring, and along with it, frustration.

Something has clearly happened, and in typical brusque Grigory fashion, he simply leaves a vague text. No explanation. No confronting the hard emotions.

The moment he picks up, I demand, “What the hell do you mean she left?”

“She packed her bag and went home.”

I shake my head and start pacing, not wanting to believe what I think he’s saying. “Were you at your place, anyway? Is she in my apartment now?”

“She went home. To Denmark.”

“You were supposed to take care of her,” I accuse, not thinking straight. “How the hell did this happen?”

“She up and left in the middle of an argument. I tried to stop her, but there was nothing I could do.”

I scoff. “Hell there was. You could have held her down or tied her up. Spanked some sense into her.” I know he’s not beyond that, and frankly, I’m not either. She’s soconfusedthese days that she needs a firm hand to put her in place when all the emotions get too much. Grigory told me how he’d hauled her over his knee when she refused to talk to him after I’d left. It had helped. So why didn’t he do it this time?

I’m about to ask when Grigory says, “I can’t do this again.” And with that, he hangs up.

What the hell is that supposed to mean?It’s not like Clara has up and left before.

My brain finally kicks in.

But someone else has. Countless times.

I drag my hand through my hair.Goddammit, Clara.This is about the worst thing you could have done.

— CHAPTER 35 —

CLARA

I stare up at the large screen announcing the flights. Ten minutes until boarding begins. The hour spent sitting on a plastic seat, fighting off pressing tears, has been one of the longest of my life, and I’m sure the next two won’t get any better.

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