Page 66 of Reverence

24

OF STRANGE APARTMENTS & MISPLACED TRUST

“Ican’t believe you let her have your apartment.” Helena washed the cup under the steady stream of water for much longer than she needed to. But Juliette had been sitting in the small kitchen of the rental and Helena had been finding reasons to occupy the same space. Which meant only one thing. There was about to be a conversation. She had been trying to pin Juliette down for days now. And only Juliette’s claims that she was tired and sleepy or in pain made Helena back off.

Well, they might as well talk. Juliette had been silent for what seemed like ages. She had gone to the hospital. She had come back here. The place Helena got them was warm and cozy and so foreign. Juliette wanted to close her eyes to avoid noticing all the details that were just wrong.

The windows were smaller, the windowsills too high, the shower too narrow, and the doors opened in the opposite direction. And it was not her space. But then, nowhere was. Not anymore.

“I couldn’t go back, Hels.” Her voice sounded rusty, husky from unuse.

“You and I shared the Rue de Rivoli apartment for much longer than you and she did.”

Juliette bit her lip. How to tell Helena that the years they had there were nothing compared to the scant few months that had ruined her life? That had reshaped her entire existence—and not just in the way that broke her bones and tore her tendons.

When she lifted her face, Helena was watching her with such regret that Juliette figured she didn’t need to say anything out loud. The thing about her former lover—she was one of the greatest psychologists of her generation. Juliette smiled, and Helena blinked uncomprehendingly.

“I love you, Hels. I’m sorry we never worked out. And I’m sorry you’re wasting your time here with me when Columbia clearly thinks you’re the next iteration of Sigmund Freud and probably wants you back yesterday.”

Helena’s laughter was music to Juliette’s ears. The terrible feeling she’d been wallowing in this past week, of being unable to do anything right or say the correct words, had not been something Juliette was used to.

“Oh, my dear, do not insult me, as I’d rather be compared to Anna Freud myself than to that ghoul. And as for being missed, you are the golden child. The sheer sea of flowers that people bring to Palais Garnier steps every day…” Helena sighed, and Juliette waved her sadness away.

“You’d think I’m dead. Though I might as well be.”

She got up and leaned heavily on her crutch. She had learned to maneuver quite competently, wielding only one in the past week. A caged animal, she limped to the living room before letting herself fall to the leather sofa, which creaked pathetically under her weight, mimicking the sound Juliette imagined her own heart was making these days under the pressure of depression and gloom.

“Juliette…” Helena stepped into the room and then just stood there, clearly unable to decide what to say or what to do next.

“You want to believe I’m wrong, but we both know I’m not. Foltin made it clear that my forced vacation is permanent. He can’t fire me, but then, I can’t dance. And even if I ever recover enough to do so, Juliette Lucian-Sorel will never be who she once was.”

“Juliette—”

“Hels, you were right to tell me I was done in the hospital. I will never disrespect the stage by giving it anything but my very best. And it’s something that I can’t ever reach again. Funny, I always thought I was very pragmatic about ballet. It was a job. Well, I was wrong. It was more than that, but it doesn’t matter now, since I will never have it back. I know I should be glad to even walk, but you and I both know I don’t give a fuck about that.”

Helena nodded and finally gave in, sitting down next to her, the small sofa making their proximity much closer than Juliette felt comfortable. After all the poking and prodding and touching she was enduring at the hospital almost every day, she wanted none of the human contact. She ignored the treacherous thought that she did indeed want contact from one particular human.

“I know. And I also know that being all stoic about this entire ordeal is something that you need. But you can lean on people, dear.”

Juliette smiled even though it tasted bitter on her lips.

“I have you, Hels.”

“You have Francesca. She’s in New York, but you have her. And you have Gabriel.”

Juliette rolled eyes. Gabriel…

“He never once visited the hospital. Over a month spent there. And I’ve been here two weeks now?—”

“He’s coming today, soon…” Helena trailed off but her face said so much more, and Juliette’s heart sped up. Was this the conversation Helena had been gearing up to for days?

“Hels?”

“He… Jett… Just… be nice, okay?”

A knock on the door interrupted them, and Helena suddenly looked panicked. A second, two, and then the familiar composure was back on her face and she gave Juliette a side hug. She got up and left the room.

Her heart in her throat now, Juliette pushed herself up, flailing for a moment, her crutch falling out of her hands and clattering to the floor with a sound that seemed to go on forever. In the middle of the cacophony, Gabriel appeared in the doorway Helena had disappeared through.

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