I shift my bag to my other shoulder, and I walk fast towards the elevator.
“Nik, you can’t let him leave!” Katya cries. “Nik, go faster!”
Nikolai is chasing after me. I don’t even look back before he runs up to my side, his lengthy stride pace-for-pace with mine.
My voice is hollow. “You can follow as far as you want, but I’m not stopping.” I press the elevator button. As we wait, he stays silent, but his intense presence bears down on me.
I’m in a daze, remembering how Katya auditioned for Noctis, a touring show, during contract renewals last season. That hurt some, but I figured she needed to prove something to herself. She was accepted, and she declined, ultimately staying in Viva.
Timo never thought she’d leave.
It’s even hard to believe I’m not just transferring shows. I’m quitting the company, and I’m a breath away from the elevator.
It dings, and in unison, we enter. The doors slide shut, and I watch the digital numbers tic down as we descend.
Nikolai hits the emergency stop button.
I should be mad. I should be angry.
But I’m relieved. And I don’t know why. He’s the one who’ll harp on about responsibilities and hammer me over the head with what I’ve done wrong.
We face each other in the motionless, quiet elevator. Tensed. Uncertain of what’ll happen here. Either I eventually walk out or he stops me.
There are only two outcomes.
“At least give me the facts,” Nikolai says. “Let me understand what happened.”
“Don’t be too hard on Timo and Kat when I’m gone, okay?” I’m a brick wall that he’s trying to crumble for my own good. I know it.
I just can’t come undone that easily.
His features darken. “If you leave AE, they’ll be inconsolable.”
“So console them,” I retort. “Don’t wait for me to do it.”
Nik must be clenching his teeth, his jaw muscle tensing. We stare at each other for a long, uncomfortable moment. He’s the one who takes two steps forward, strong-minded.
And he asks, “What do you need from me? I will give you anything.” The way he says that one word—it’s as though he’s offering his entire life to me.
But he already gave me his life, his time, his world years ago when he chose me over the touring show.
I speak as clearly and unemotionally as I can. “I need you to let me go.”
He speaks firmly. Passionately. “Anything else but that.”
I never detach from his brutally intense gaze. “It’s all I need.”
“Bullshit,” he swears. “Something happened.” He keeps searching my face for answers. “Did someone force you into this? Luka—”
“Just stop.” I drop my bag, the weight killing me. “Just stop for a second.” I stagger back and lean my body on the wall. I feel strangely ripped open but sewed up at the same time.
Nikolai’s chest rises and falls, and he paces the width of the elevator, only one time, before halting. “You’re right,” he says, his eyes almost bloodshot.
“What?”
“I can’t console them,” he says flat-out. “I’ve always needed your help.”
I shake my head on instinct.
“I text you every single day, Luka.”
“Then you can text me from across the country—”
“It’s not the same!” he yells from his core. I’m about to cite Sergei and Peter, who he didn’t see for six years but he maintained contact with them through the phone—he beats me to this fact. “You mean more to me than them. I…”
He practically raised me.
Nikolai is only a foot away, his voice deep and low, cut with raw emotion that he doesn’t hide. “I know you’re in pain. You have to tell me what happened. Look at me.”
I realize my eyes are on the floor. I can’t lift them.
Nikolai places his hand on my shoulder, one on my jaw, guiding my face upward. His strict gaze is full of strength. It’s not against me.
It’s for me.
I imagine this is what a father is supposed to give a son. Support. A rock to stand on.
I want to tell him. I want to let it out, and I open my mouth—but I’m so used to suppressing the truth. How do I release it all now?
My eyes well. “Nik…” (I’m scared. I’m so fucking scared.)
His gaze bears into me. “I’m going to help you.”
I shake my head again. “You won’t.” I rub my mouth, my breath stuck in my throat. “I already know what you’ll say.”
“It’s about Baylee,” he realizes, his hands slowly dropping off me.
My head is a million pounds at the hollowness of his voice. It’s about Baylee. I stare at the frozen 34 number, and somehow, I tell him everything that happened in the numbest, most soulless voice imaginable.
It’s easier if there’s no hurt attached to the words. It’s easier if I describe Geoffrey in plain detail. It’s easier if it’s all meaningless.
When I finish, I finally look to Nikolai. I can’t comprehend his reaction fully, not as he stares stunned but harsh at the ground.
“Go ahead,” I say, pain leeching my voice for the first time. “Say what you want to say. I’m the irresponsible fuck-up you can only count on Monday through Wednesday. I risked my career and my family for a girl. You’ll say that she wasn’t worth any of it. That she was just some fling.”
Nikolai meets my gaze head-on, but saying all of this aloud—it snaps something inside of me.
I straighten up off the wall. “You’ll never understand what I feel for Baylee. It’s not fleeting. I can’t wish it away. I tried. I fucking tried!” I scream through glassing eyes. I blink once, and tears fall. “And fuck you.”
“Fuck me?” he repeats, his voice cold. “What did I do other than love you?” He takes a fierce step forward again. “My entire life, I’ve protected you.”
I drop my head, silent tears streaming down my cheeks. “Then why do I feel like you’re about to gut me?”
Nikolai looms close, but he stays still. “I would never hurt you. I’m on your side. Look at me—I’m on your side.”
I meet his eyes, but skepticism lingers in mine.
He sees. “I’m human, too. I make mistakes. I wonder, all the time, about the choices I’ve made in life. Just like you. And I know what it’s like to feel compelled to choose a woman over your career. To risk your job for someone else. You know, I cut out of Amour early for Thora.”
I remember he thought she was in trouble, many months ago before she was part of AE.
“I would do more than that for her,” he admits. “I can’t picture my life without Thora, and I’m telling you, I understand what you’re going through.”
(Do you?)
Very deeply, Nikolai says, “Some love is infinite. And I’m going to help you fight for yours.”
My knees almost buckle as he lifts an insurmountable weight off of me, my lungs ablaze. “Don’t fuck with me, dude.”
“I’m not, I promise.” Nikolai rests his hand tenderly on the back of my head, and then he pulls me into a hug. A real hug.
(I’m not kidding.)
Hot tears run down my chin. I grip the back of his shirt and pinch my eyes with my other hand, crying. I can’t tell you the last time a family member consoled me like this. And I never imagined it’d be from Nik.
He’s a fortress. Something unbreakable, no matter how much I beat at him—and he’s also something keeping me standing.
I feel it fully.
Trying to cut the waterworks, I mutter a couple profanities and rub my face with a rough hand.
Nikolai says lowly, “You spend too much time with Dimitri.” Because of my language, probably.
I lean back some, both of our eyes reddened. “Jealous?”
He doesn’t deny it, and severity hardens his features. “If anyone corners you and tries to manipulate or blackmail you, tell me the moment after. Not a second or day or week later.” He pauses. “I’m always on your side, and I’m sorry I made you feel like I wasn’t.”
I let out a sound of relief and pain.
Nikolai clutches my face, and he says in Russian, “I love you, brother. I need you whole.”
I want that too.
Act Forty-One
Baylee Wright
Curling up on Brenden’s bottom bunk, I cry silently into his dinosaur Pillow Pet. I just listened to the most excruciating sobs from Katya and everything Timo said to Luka as he left.