Chapter 17 The Summoning #2
He nods, biting his bottom lip as he concentrates on hitting the right keys. Although it sounds clunky, Anton is very methodical, and he successfully eliminates his mistakes one by one.
After taking a quick glance at the antique grandfather clock in the room, he abruptly stands and asks, “Would you indulge me again by playing the entire song?”
Impressed with his progress, I’m happy to comply. But I close my eyes, needing a moment to compose myself. As a musician, the song is both powerful and demanding, and it requires that I get my head in the right space.
Once I feel prepared, I smile at Anton and begin.
From the very first note, I’m carried away on the tide of this dark and passionate melody.
It strikes a chord in my soul, and the pain of last night hits me once more.
Tears stream down my face as I play out my grief.
My fingers pound the keys, accenting the depth of my anguish and sorrow.
By the time I reach the end, I am nearly spent and lower my head, panting heavily as the last notes ring out.
“Beautiful,” he says in a grief-stricken voice.
I glance up, surprised to see tears are also streaming down his handsome face. It suddenly dawns on me that he knows great loss as well.
“Only someone who has experienced loss can play like that,” he states.
I only nod, too choked up to speak.
“Who?” he asks, his voice cracking with emotion.
I swallow down the painful lump in my throat. “My daddy. It happened when I was a little kid. He died in a car crash, and I never got to feel his hugs or hear his voice again.”
Anton nods thoughtfully. “My sweet Mamulya was murdered. I’ve never recovered from the loss.”
My bottom lip trembles. “I’m so sorry.”
He looks at me with warm compassion. “I grieve for you, too.”
When he opens his arms for a hug, I get up from the bench and gratefully walk into his embrace, letting out a huge sob.
“Let it out…” he murmurs as he squeezes me tighter.
I cannot stop the sobs that erupt, and I drench the poor man’s shirt with my tears. When I finally pull away, I mumble an apology.
Anton shakes his head, his eyes looking as red-rimmed as mine undoubtedly are. “There is no reason to apologize when sharing grief,” he answers in a gruff voice.
A hiccup escapes me as I wipe my wet cheeks.
He snaps his fingers. The moment Maxim enters the room, he says, “A shot of vodka. And some tissues for the lady.”
Maxim nods and quietly retreats.
Looking down at me, Anton says, “It is good to release those feelings when they come. Otherwise, they grow in intensity and pour out when they are least welcomed.”
I nod, grabbing several tissues when Maxim returns with a tray containing several items.
Anton holds out a shot of vodka to me and picks up the other. “A drink to their memory.”
“I really shouldn’t because of my class…”
“They deserve to be honored by those who loved them,” he states firmly as he holds up his glass. “To your father.”
Touched by his gesture, I take the glass from him and hold it up. “To your mother.” When I down the fiery liquid and start to cough, he hands me a small pickle. “It will help. Trust me.”
While chewing the briny vegetable, I feel the heat of the liquor begin warming my entire body.
“I know you must change into your uniform before leaving, but there is no need to rush. I will call down and let them know you’ve been temporarily detained.”
“I appreciate it, because I’m skating on thin ice as it is…”
I immediately regret my offhand comment and groan when he asks, “What do you mean?”
Riddled with guilt because he’s the one who sponsored me, I reluctantly admit, “I had to call my safeword last night over a really simple scene.”
“Why is that an issue?”
“Bondage is the only kink I’ve come across that triggers me…even though I can handle pain with no problem.”
He raises an eyebrow, saying with interest, “Really?”
I lower my head, a deep sense of shame washing over me when I admit, “I actually considered quitting the program because of it.”
Anton seems unaffected by my confession. “Calling your safeword is powerful. Embrace the lesson it is meant to teach you, and then dive deeper.” He adds with a confident grin, “I know a guy who can help.”
I stare back at him, struggling to hide my fear. “Don’t tell me you’re into bondage…”
“Nyet.” He smirks when he adds, “I enjoy a different kink, but that is a conversation for another time.”
I notice Maxim standing in the doorway with my duffel bag.
Glancing at the clock, I calculate I have just enough time to make it to class if I’m quick.
As I change into my uniform in the bathroom and reapply my makeup after my tearful outburst, I listen to Anton diligently practicing the opening for “O Fortuna”.
When I’m done, a slow smile spreads across my face as I stare at my reflection in the mirror.
The knowledge that Anton has experienced a similar loss somehow makes the weight of my own more bearable.
I came tonight to teach a piano lesson and, in return, he gifted me with a lesson on shared grief. I leave the penthouse with greater peace while I listen to him express his sorrow in the song.