Page 102 of Symphony of Salvation

When Constance and I toyed withPachelbel’s Cannon in Dover Christmas, challenging one another, it had been tremendous fun, but there was no subtext in our playing.

What August and I shared that evening amounted to another level. We tested one another, having a silent conversation through music. Perhaps it was the only way we could say what was in our hearts and on our minds.

Can you keep up?my playing asked.

Can you trust me?was his response as he took liberties with the melody.

Will you follow if I take you somewhere new?

Will you wait if I’m not ready?

And from both of us,Where do we go from here?

The music naturally ended, as did the subtle conversation. Our questions remained answerless. Our inquiries dangled in the open air.

“Did you bring an overnight bag?” August asked.

“Yes, you invited me to.”

More silence. Should I mention how spending the night with a lover usually meant things were getting serious? No. I couldn’t.

“Are you going back to Chicago?” I asked, seeking validation, confirmation, and justification for my reticence. If he could admit this thing between us was more than a passing moment in his busy life, maybe I could tear down the walls around my heart.

“That’s the plan.”

Shattered.

“Right.”

“I have to work, Niles. I’m killing time while Constance gets settled, but taking commissions and offering my skills to the school for a negligible paycheck won’t sustain me.”

“I know.”

The swell of silence grew painfully large.

“It doesn’t mean we can’t…”

I waited, but August didn’t finish the sentence. His return to stardomdidmean wecouldn’tunless he was ready and willingto make things public. But even then, the distance would be excruciating. Insurmountable.

“Maybe we should stop.” My heart broke even as I made the suggestion.

“Stop what?” August glanced from the piano.

“This.” I swung a finger between us.

“No. Niles, don’t say that.”

I made eye contact for the first time since we finished playing our cryptic duet. “You’re going to leave someday, and if I’m not careful, you’re going to take my heart with you.”

August brushed his knuckles over my cheek, uttering what sounded like the same string of Greek he’d said in bed a while back.

“Translate.”

He wet his lips, seemed to consider, then shook his head. “Another day.”

It was exactly what he’d said the previous time, but what ifanother daynever arrived.

He kissed me and worries about the future evaporated. Who was I kidding? August already owned my heart. No amount of restraint had helped protect it. No amount of caution had kept me from falling. I was doomed in this life to be slaughtered by love.

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