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“Listen, baby, I’ve got something to talk to you about.”
“I hope it’s the next time we’ll get to see each other,” I say, sneaking a smile at him through the mirror I’m using. I’ve had to wipe off the rest of my make up and start over.
“Nah, it’s something else. It’s about what we’re going to do.”
“You mean in the future?”
He sips from his cognac and leans against the armrest on the leather sofa. “I want you to stop what you’re doing. My girl can’t be famous if she’s with me. It’s asking for problems.”
I stop mid swipe of reapplying my lipstick. “Clay… you mean the ballet company? You want me to quit?”
“If you’re going to be my girl. You don’t need to dance for anybody but me.”
A grin livens up his face and he sets down his drink to hold out his arms. He expects me to walk into them and embrace him.
I stay put where I am, staring, puzzled. “But… I just made prima ballerina. It hasn’t even been a year.”
“That show of yours—Swan Lake, right?—it ends soon. Quit when it does.”
“I can’t—”
“You want to be with me, don’t you?”
“But Ilovedancing. I want to be with you and be prima ballerina.”
He shakes his head, swallowing more cognac. “Nah, baby, you can’t. It’s asking for trouble. My girl on a stage in front of the city? You’re too visible. My girl can’t be visible.”
A moment goes by where I say nothing. I sit and try to work through what he’s asking of me. I can’t leave the ballet company. It feels as though my dance career is finally taking off. Giving that up now would be ridiculous.
I’m too young. I have many years ahead of me before I’d need to retire.
“Clay,” I say softly. “Please… be reasonable.”
“I am, baby. That’s why I told you finish the show. Then you walk away. I can’t have my enemies knowing my girl’s famous.”
“But… why do I have to walk away? Why can’tyouwalk away?”
He releases a slow chuckle. The ice chinks in his glass as he takes another swallow. “You’re serious?”
“You can quit. You can make a deal with the authorities. They’ll let you off easy. They’ll maybe even let you avoid jail time.”
“You better be fucking around, baby. That’s never happening ’cuz I’m never walking away. This is my life. This is who I am,” he says. Any affection for me has been wiped away in his expression. His features appear rounder and crueler. “You knew what I was when you got with me. You said you weren’t just some spoiled rich girl trying to piss off her mom and pop. But what do you call this? You think I’m going to work with the cops? You must not know Killer Clay.”
My stomach sours. I forget about the tube of lipstick in my hand. I’m too close to tears. “Clay… all I meant was… why should I walk away? I have my whole dance career ahead of me.”
“You only ever gotta dance for me. Nobody else matters.”
“But I love performing. I want to keep doing it.”
“We’re done talking about this. You know what you’ve got to do. Either do it or that’s it. We’re done.”
He rises up from where he’s perched on the sofa armrest and walks out of the room. The door slams shut with a resounding echo that makes me jump. I don’t move for so long, eventually Beatrice pokes her head inside to come get me.
I’m frozen in place, filled with cold air, as I come to a realization.
The man I love won’t give up his lifestyle for me. He won’t accept mine for what it is. Either I walk away from my world and join his, or I’ll have to say goodbye forever.
My heart aches. I’ve always known there was a chance this moment would come. I just hoped and prayed that I was wrong.
