Page 6 of The Story of You
“Please allow me to rephrase that. I can’t lie to him.”
“Consider this practice. I know you know better—one day you will have to lie to him, and it will be a lot more important than this.”
Oliver needs to be shielded. He deserves a dream life of rainbows and tutus and unicorns. The real world is full of danger and despair.
Do I think he can’t handle it? No. I’m sure he can be taught. He’s smart and resilient. But wading into the waters of the world means internal scars, the ripping of your insides, jaded thoughts, and bitter feelings. I have all of that. Oliver doesn’t need it. He can live within the safety of his chrysalis forever.
I know he didn’t escape our past unscathed—Darius thinks I don’t know, but I do. And then there was Raymond. I haven’t been able to save him everything, but there is still plenty more I can.
He doesn’t need to know this.
“It won’t hurt him not to know about a small financial transaction. It will cause him unnecessary anxiety if he has to hear his man was threatened and that he considered leaving him for Italy.”
He nods with a heavy sigh. “You’re right. I don’t want him to worry. I want to protect him. When I got dancing offers, he was nearly inconsolable; I don’t think I can bear to see him cry like that again. I’ll take the money to the Bianchis tomorrow and then we’ll be done with this, yes?”
“If you last.”
I don’t have to worry about him breaking anything before a performance this time, so I don’t go easy on him. I hope he loses. I want him to lose.
And I also want him to win.
It’s a terrible conflict.
I hate him, but my son loves him. He needs to be good enough for him and I know he isn’t—not yet. I can make him good enough and show him how to continue Oliver’s rainbow life after I’m gone.
Wham! Wham! Wham!I’m relentless as I slam my fists like sledgehammers into the sand-filled bag. I make the mistake of looking into his brown eyes. He’s determined. It’s all for Oliver. It burns there. He won’t let go of the bag; won’t fall; won’t falter.
That’s what I’m looking for. As long as that remains, he can be with Oliver.
“Enough.” I glance at the clock. It’s been two hours. “I don’t want to have to do this again for a long time, Julius. But I will if need be. Think ahead. Come to me before it’s a three hundred-thousand-dollar problem.”
“Yes, sir.”
ChapterTwo
Oliver ~ May 19th 2009
Ican’t stop thinking about my new Valenciana dress that Silas can never see. It’s the first thing on my mind when I wake up. I roll over to gaze at the man responsible. He’s fast asleep. He’s naked. There are bruises from yesterday’s session in the gym with Si-Dad, so I run my fingers over them.
He says this won’t be too much for him, but it’s hard to believe that. How can I be worth this?
My wrist is snatched out of the air. “Amore,” his voice croaks, groggy with sleep. He kisses my knuckles.
We danced until our feet were sore last night and then he insisted that he carry me up all the flights of stairs leading to our room.
“What did I say about apologizing?”
“Do you hear me apologizing?”
“A technicality.”
I don’t want to think about it. “So, day off. What are we doing? I was thinking, there’s a special display at the museum in town—the history of dance—we could go on our second date. I’ll wear a parka or something and—”
“Oh amore, I’m sorry. I have to stop in at work today, just for a few hours. Maybe after that?”
I sit up. “What could you possibly have to go in for?” The Mitchells always give time off after a performance because they know we work to near exhaustion. Julius gets time off teaching since he danced this one, but he’ll still have to go in for some meetings … but that wasn’t supposed to be until tomorrow.
He flinches. Was I doing my Silas impression again?
