Page 69 of Reverence

“Who’d have thought, Jett? Francesca’s little brother and me?”

Juliette bused his clean-shaven cheek and wrapped her arms around his body, muscular and sturdy as ever.

No, not as ever. But as in the days before…

“You’re the catch here, Flanagan.”

He sighed and hugged her back. They stood in the quiet kitchen, cars speeding below on the busy street the only noise interrupting their gentle swaying.

“Did you think, sitting on the cold floor in that empty rental in Paris, you hobbling around on one leg and me crying and scared of dying of AIDS, that we’d be here?”

He whispered the last part of his question, the reality of his disease still an ever-present fear despite how far they’d come.

“Well, I had no idea we’d get you into the first-ever trial for antiretroviral therapy. Then again, you were always such an overachiever. Once you were in, I knew you’d excel and be their model patient.”

They laughed, an easy, relieved sound, though both knew that Juliette was lying through her teeth. The trial was rough, Gabriel’s body taking time to respond to medication and Juliette nursing him through a myriad of side effects. But then, a new cocktail of pills, another medical breakthrough, and one day Gabriel’s color had returned. Suddenly, he could run up the stairs. His strength returned. He quietly got a job on Broadway as a backup dancer and teacher.

And life went on. Francesca’s younger brother, Gustavo, a theater set designer, was an unexpected development, but once he arrived, he was the most welcome occurrence. He didn’t care about the disease, he only had eyes for Gabriel. His “beautiful boy,” as Gustavo called him, and honestly, Juliette teared up every time she saw the two of them together.

Gustavo had some strange friends, including an up-and-coming film director, a severe-looking woman with purple eyes who acted like she was better than all of them and whom Francesca secretly and not so secretly despised.

And life went on still. Out of all the scenarios into which Gabriel’s story could unfold, this one—them, happy, employed, and on their feet—had been the least probable seven years ago. She put her palm on his cheek. Clear, smiling, joyful eyes met hers, and she smiled back.

Gustavo had a ring. He had dragged Juliette all over town to pick it out. He would propose tonight, and Juliette couldn’t wait for Gabriel to burst in tomorrow morning and scoop her up, twirl her in circles as he was prone to, screaming with joy that he was going to get married.

And no, it wasn’t legal, but they’d have a wonderful ceremony. Francesca already had everything planned, the venue, the guest list. The fact that nobody spoke the one name with a question mark in front of it—despite being one of Gabriel’s earliest supporters—was not a surprise.

Not a single soul mentioned Katarina Vyatka around her. No one alluded to Paris Opera Ballet. It would mean speaking of her, because of how immense she had become at Palais Garnier. She was now synonymous with it. The president had named her Prima Assoluta. Only the second one of a kind in France.

It had been seven years. Juliette had not moved on, and everyone around her knew it. How embarrassing.

“Darlin’…” Of course Gabriel would see through her. He lifted her chin, a gesture so familiar Juliette had to squeeze her eyes shut to avoid tears spilling.

“I’m sorry. I’m thoughtless…” He bit his lip.

“No, you’re silly. And you’re happy. I’m the one who is sorry for being maudlin.” Juliette gave his cheek a peck.

“Shh.” He gathered her back at his chest. “I wish… God, I don’t know. I wish for so many things. I wish you’d forgive her. I wish you’d forgive yourself. I wish you’d allow yourself to move on.”

Juliette felt her mouth fall open.

What the hell…

“You wish I’d forgive her? How dare you!”

He gingerly stepped away from her and looked around warily, as if judging whether she’d throw something at him,then, perhaps deciding that the risk was worth it, simply sat down at the kitchen table.

“It’s been seven years and nobody knows what happened and nobody is happy.”

Juliette felt the knife twist in her chest.

“She lied and she used me and she used all of us to get my job, Gabriel. Have you forgotten?” Juliette felt the world tilt, her anger making her see red.

“I haven’t forgotten, Jett. But there are two sides to every story and then there’s the truth. And you, of all people, are the one who told me that. You are the fairest person I’ve ever known. The most open-minded. You’ve wallowed in your pain for seven years and you don’t even know why.”

Juliette actually growled. She set her cane down very carefully, lest she’d do something she might regret. Annoyingly, he didn’t even flinch when she pushed it aside.

“Saying that nobody knows what happened doesn’t make it so. We know very well what happened. She defected in Paris to get my position. And she got in my bed to make sure she had me sufficiently distracted to not notice her machinations. Nobody knew? Everyone knew! You, Francesca, Helena, all of you told me she was after my job. That I should not trust her. That I should be careful. Now you tell me, how am I not being fair? How am I not being open-minded? I think opening all the doors for her, including the one to my bedroom, to my fucking heart, was more than fair and open-minded.”

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