Page 44 of Love Medley
Although it’s technically a duet, I don't expect Lucy to join in—pressuring her now would only shatter this fragile moment of trust. But I wanted to sing this song to her, because the lyrics are full of gentle reassurances from a man who just wants his lover to feel safe. And that’s exactly how I want Lucy to feel.
Minus the lover part, of course.
And if there’s a not-so-subtle nod that I’m leaving the door open for a duet?
That’s just a bonus.
But to my complete and utter delight, Lucy’s clear and beautiful soprano enters the song right on cue. This woman who has been silenced by so many people in her life is finally finding her voice. I’m in awe of her—she’s gone through so much but she’s still fighting her way back.
Can she hear what I’m saying between the lines of the melody? I just want to be her sanctuary.
At least for right here, right now.
I continue playing, hoping not to disturb the spell cast on this moment. The sweet longing of the words fill the room, a wistful plea for a world of light far from the Phantom’s dark underground prison. For someone with an untrained voice, Lucy is still somehow capable of modulating her sound to deliver the maximum punch.
In the wake of those notes, I’m staggering under the weight of my emotions. Sharing this duet with her—conversing in a fluid, intimate way—only cements how in tune we are.
There’s a line in the song where Christine begs Raoul to tell her he loves her. When we reach that section, our eyes meet, frozen in the moment. Flustered by the feelings surging in my chest, I respond that of course, I do.
God, do I?
It’s a fucking song. Get a grip, Whitlock.
My jaw drops open as Lucy effortlessly hits the high A-flat near the end of the song, which is insanely difficult for so many singers. Because I’m so blown away by her, I almost stop singing to pay closer attention.
We sing the last few lyrics together, slowing down the tempo as written—but I also want to draw this out so it never ends.
As the last notes fade away, I stare at her, stunned. “Jesus, Lucy. Your voice is fucking amazing.”
You’re amazing, Lucy.I only wish I could say those words out loud.
“I…haven’t sung in front of anyone in years,” Lucy says finally, a small smile curving the edges of her mouth.
We’re so close, and if I just leaned in one more inch, my lips would be on hers.
God, Lucy is so beautiful. My eyes trace every detail of her delicate features. The gentle arch of her eyebrows. Her high cheekbones.
Every single one of my nerves is buzzing. Lucy’s eyes meet mine, and I have the sense that maybe, just maybe, she’s feeling this too.
Lips parted, Lucy tilts her head just the slightest bit. Fuck, is this actually happening? I’m going to kiss her, and my life is never going to be the same.
At that moment, a car alarm splits the silence in my apartment, and we jerk apart. Stumbling off of the piano bench, I land flat on my ass, and we both burst into a fit of nervous laughter.
As I attempt to recover, Lucy says, “Hey, I think I’m gonna go.” She’s not quite meeting my eyes. “I’ll see you Tuesday at 6pm, right?”
Did I ruin everything by pushing her too hard, too fast? My heart is twisting inside of me.
“Yeah, if I can repair my bruised ego. That was not my finest moment,” I say, wishing she would look at me.
“No, this was great. I loved getting to sing with you.” But her words are rushed, almost panicked. She grabs her purse quickly and leaves.
After the door closes, I’m shell shocked, still sitting on the floor like a fucking idiot. What the hell just happened? Is she okay?
AmIokay?
And then I realize we never took any photos, which was supposedly the whole point of this excursion.
Also, I officially hate car alarms.
