Chapter Twenty-Seven Cord
Twenty-Seven
Cord
I head to the gym pretty much the moment I hang up the phone with Allegra.
I know she has a busy day ahead of her and I don’t want to spend the entire thing waiting for her to text when I know she won’t have time to.
I expel my frustration on the weight machine, then shower and head to the Six Pact studio.
We don’t have rehearsal or anything scheduled, but I would rather be here than in the office.
Chloe checks in throughout the day, Noah sends me an “oh fuck” text, followed by an offer to talk if I need to. I appreciate their support, but there’s only one person I need to talk to right now and she’s too busy dealing with the ramifications of my stupidity.
I hate myself for putting her in this position, but I hate ballet more. Who the fuck cares if she goes out and dances for fun? If anything, her asshole director should be grateful for the free publicity. Something tells me he won’t see it that way.
My frustration continues to build, so I harness that energy and put it into the one thing I know will bring relief.
I choreograph a new number, and I let myself have fun with it.
All of the Six Pact routines are fun, but I really let go with this one, as if I need to prove to myself that my company is the opposite of the stuffy, stick-up-their-ass BNY.
It may be petty and childish, but the results speak for themselves.
I’m back at home and showered once again when my phone finally dings. I may or may not have set up Allegra with her own alert so I could ignore everyone else.
Allegra: Are you home?
Me: Sure am. You coming over?
Allegra: Is that okay?
Me: Of course. I’ve been counting down the minutes until I get to see you.
Me: Want me to send a car?
Allegra: I’m already at the subway. See you soon.
My finger hovers over the keyboard. I send her a heart emoji, but I don’t get any response. She’s probably already lost service. At least, that’s what I tell myself.
I buzz her up when she arrives, but it takes way longer than it should before I hear her knock at the door.
I’m about to go out and look for her when she raps tentatively.
I know it’s only a door knock, but it doesn’t sound good.
My stomach sinks, but I shore up my nerves.
Today was hard for me, but it was inevitably much more difficult for her.
My only job right now is to make sure she is okay.
I take one look at her and immediately know she is not okay. Pushing the door open wide, I usher her in, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. “What happened? What’s wrong?”
She snuggles into my side and I feel a flash of relief. It doesn’t last long as she covers her face with her hands to try to hide her tears. I lead her to the couch and help her sit.
I sit across from her, pulling her hands from her face and keeping them clasped in mine. “Allegra, you’re freaking me out. What happened?”
She takes a moment to sniffle and wipe her eyes before she starts talking. “David saw the video, obviously, and he called me into his office and told me I was violating my contract by performing at the club without permission.”
I suck in a sharp breath. “Did he fire you? If he did, we can fight it, Allegra.”
She shakes her head, her eyes locked on our grasped hands and avoiding mine. “He didn’t fire me. At least not yet.” She takes a shuddering breath. “He told me I’m not allowed to perform at the club anymore.”
I tighten my fingers around hers, trying to control the anger threatening to overtake me. “Okay. I mean, that’s a dick move, but to be expected, I suppose.”
“There’s more,” she says quietly. Her eyes move from our hands down to the rug. “He told me I’m not allowed to see you in public anymore.”
There’s a minute of deadly silence.
“He’s trying to dictate what you do in your personal life now, too?
” It takes everything in me, every ounce of self-control, to keep my voice level and calm.
On the inside, I’m a roiling mass of fury, but if I’m being truly honest with myself, the fury is just a mask for the underlying hurt.
Because some part of me, a big part of me, already knows where this conversation is going.
“He told me since my contract includes a morality clause, and since we’re the subject of high public interest right now, that I can’t be seen with you.
” She finally raises her eyes to mine; they’re still filled with tears and I want to stalk my way over to the BNY building and beat the shit out of the man who put them there.
“But that doesn’t mean we can’t be together.
We just have to stay out of the public eye until things die down. ”
My jaw clenches. “What does that even mean, we have to stay out of the public eye?”
She swallows thickly, and I see the hope there, the hope that we can find a way to make this work. Too bad it’s the hope that kills you. “It just means we can’t be seen together for a little bit.”
“How long? How long does David want us to confine our relationship to our apartments?” My tone shifts and I know she notices.
She pulls her eyes from mine once again and I know she isn’t telling me everything. “I don’t know, Cord. I think that depends on how long it takes for the hype of the video to die down.”
“That could be months, Allegra.” I pull my hands from hers and shift my position on the couch so I’m facing away from her.
“I know, but we’re so busy anyway, it won’t be that hard. Those couple months will go by in a flash.” She’s pleading with me, and a big part of me wants to give her what she wants.
She wants me to say it will all be okay, that we can hide our relationship and not go out in public together for however long her damn director decrees it so.
But I quit living my life to appease ballet directors a long time ago.
I gave up the one thing I worked my whole life for so that ballet didn’t get to dictate who I am and what I do.
“Are you really asking me this? We’ve only been together for a couple of weeks, Allegra.”
Tears spill over her cheeks and the sight of them makes my stomach clench. “This isn’t my fault, Cord. I didn’t ask to be in that video. I didn’t ask for it to go viral and invite the scrutiny of everyone at BNY. I don’t want this, but it’s the only way.”
I scoff. Even though a part of me knew this is where we were headed, I’m still in disbelief that she would actually go along with this. “So if I’m not willing to hide out because of the whims of one asshole ballet director, you’re going to break up with me?”
Her mouth drops open in shock. At least the tears stop flowing, so I no longer have to fight the urge to wipe them all away. “Are you serious? You would rather break up than give this whole thing a little while to calm down?”
I turn back to her, her eyes full of pain and dismay. I want to be willing to do whatever it takes to take away that pain, but I know I can’t. “This isn’t just about the video and not being out in public, Allegra. It’s about you choosing ballet over me.”
She purses her lips and shakes her head. “I’m not choosing ballet over you.”
“Oh yeah? Did you tell David to go fuck himself with his bullshit demands? Did you tell him to take his morality clause and shove it up his ass?”
“No, I didn’t, because that’s not how I choose to talk to my boss. You might be okay with that, but I am not.”
I run a hand through my hair. “I knew this was going to happen. I honestly just didn’t expect it to happen so soon.”
“What is that supposed to mean?” Her words are cutting, and I’m almost relieved she is letting anger replace the hurt.
“I knew you would choose ballet if it ever came down to it.”
“I told you ballet is my priority from the beginning, Cord. I have always been honest with you about that. It doesn’t mean I care for you any less.”
“It sure as hell means you don’t care for me more.” I stand, gesturing for her to rise with me. “I think you should go.”
Her eyes widen, cheeks flushed. “This conversation isn’t finished.”
“Then let’s finish it. Your director won’t allow you to see me. I’m not going to hide my relationship.” I shrug, as if this all means nothing to me. Maybe if I pretend hard enough, it will be true. “So you choose, Allegra.”
She stands, moving closer to me, resting her hands on my chest. She smells like rosin and it’s such a powerful sensory memory I almost recoil at her touch, but the warmth of her palm over my heart feels too good.
“Don’t do this, Cord. It doesn’t need to be an either-or.
I know it isn’t ideal, but we can make this work.
I don’t want to lose you.” Her tears flow again, and this time, I do reach out to gently wipe them with my thumb.
I sigh, giving in to the overwhelming need to comfort her. I pull her into my arms, letting my chin rest on the top of her head. “Don’t cry, Slippers. I don’t want to lose you either.”
My gut clenches at the thought, as it starts to hit me what is really happening here.
She’s going to pick ballet. I always knew she would, and yet, being here and faced with the reality of it is more painful than I could have even imagined.
She’s going to walk out that door, leave me, and I’m going to be left with the remains of my heart, ballet once again holding the hammer that shattered it.
“Let’s figure this out, okay? I know we can.” She rises up on her toes, reaching to press her lips to mine.
But I take a step back, breaking contact between us.
If I let her kiss me now, it might erase the truth of what I know needs to happen here.
“I don’t see how we can figure this out.
I wanted this to work, more than you could possibly know, but I should’ve trusted my instincts.
Ballet is toxic, and I don’t think I can be with anyone still in it. ”
For a minute, all she does is blink, eyelashes wet. “Are you breaking up with me?” she whispers.
I shake my head. I’m not the one who wants this. “This is the choice you’re making, Allegra. I don’t want it to be this way, but if you’re going to choose ballet, going to choose him, then I don’t see any other way.”
She nods and I watch her face change. She thinks I’m being unreasonable, and maybe I am. But the fact that she doesn’t see what this is doing to me, putting me in the same traumatizing situation as before, shows me that this was never going to work in the first place.
She wipes under her eyes and takes another step away from me. “If that’s how you feel.”
She hovers there for a second, like she’s waiting for me to change my mind.
And if she stands there for much longer, I just might.
There’s a part of me—not a small part—that thinks I might have loved her.
But even if I did, or if I do, this isn’t going to work.
It’s better to cut our losses now before we get in too deep.
Heading toward the front door, she grabs her purse and lingers. I keep my eyes glued to her, wanting to drink in every single second of her presence. But I don’t stop her.
In a way, I’m doing this for her. It would be easy to give in, tell her we can figure this out. But it would only lead to more heartache in the end.
When it becomes clear I’m not going to change my mind, she opens the door. And walks away.