Page 57 of Symphony of Salvation

“Only when you’re contradictory about how I grade students.” Niles shuffled to face me. I could scarcely make out the contours of his face, but I felt every inch that separated us. “When you share about your life and your daughter, I understand you better and forget to hate you.”

I said nothing, encumbered by the weight of despair. Niles didn’t know the half of it. “It goes much deeper than being a child prodigy and having a baby I didn’t…”

“Want?”

“Expect. I wasn’t meant for this task. I never wanted custody. It’s shameful to admit.”

“Where’s Chloé?”

I considered the exhaustive task of translating that story and shook my head, despite the darkness and unlikelihood he would see the gesture. “Another time, Niles. Please. I have enough misery without transferring the mass of her problems onto my shoulders.”

“Does she know?”

“Know what?”

“About you?”

I racked my brain for his meaning. “I’m confused. Does she know what about me?”

Niles chuckled and shifted forward once more. “Never mind. And here I thought you were intelligent.” His thigh brushed mine, but he moved it away before I could exhilarate at the connection.

Encouraged by the shadows and private atmosphere and partly because of aching loneliness and the fatigue of holding myself together, I moved my leg next to his, meeting his thigh once more, telling him without words that I wanted his touch.

Niles’s hand landed on my knee and pushed it away. “Don’t.” A cutting edge to his tone.

“I thought—”

“I make it a point of not getting involved with closeted men. They’re enough to drive you crazy, and I don’t need the drama. I’m too old for that.”

“Okaaay… But I’m not closeted.”

He huffed a sarcastic laugh. “Good lord, not closeted? You’re practically living in Narnia. I thought you said you weren’t in denial.”

“I’m not.”

Another satirical snort.

“I’m not gay, Niles.”

“How can you… Let me get this straight. You’re not gay, you’re not in the closet, and you’re not in denial, but you wanted to kiss me Friday night and stopped when the Uber pulled up. What are you then?”

He couldn’t see the shame burning my cheeks, but I squirmed internally, nonetheless. Regulating my voice so the tremble of nerves wouldn’t give me away, I said, “I would consider myself a… repressed bisexual.”

A pause, and Niles laughed. A full, hearty belly laugh that went on for ages. It resonated in the empty auditorium. When I sought to see him in the dark, I found his head tipped back, one hand swiping his face.

“Oh god. I’ve never heard anything like that before. A repressed bisexual. It’s brilliant.”

“It’s the truth.”

“You’ve made my day, except I don’t know what to do with that information. I can honestly say I wasn’t expecting that.”

“Considering you find me insufferable, it doesn’t seem there’s much to debate. I’ll keep my leg on my side of the line and continue… repressing my bisexual feelings.”

Niles’s humor wound down, and he tipped his head to the side to face me. I’d been staring at him, so the changed positionbrought him closer. The only thing separating us was a cavern of darkness and maybe a few inches. It felt safe. Private.

Intimate.

“Are you repressing feelings toward me, Maestro?”

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