attention to him and offered an ovation that soon had him blushing.
I bowed one last time, the curtain closed and I headed off towards my dressing room.
“Annette,” Chace called.
Though happy to see him, I longed to retreat to my private room in order to drink it all in. “Chace, what a night.” I wrapped my arms around his neck and kissed his cheek.
“My parents made it after all and I wanted them to meet you.”
“Sure.” I glanced at the lovely woman and formally dressed man and smiled as Chace made the introductions.
After warm handshakes and a quick hug from his mother, Chace leaned in close to kiss my cheek and say, “I’ll go out and make sure they’re able to get a cab back to their hotel then I’ll come back in a bit to see you in your dressing room. I’ve missed you. These past weeks have been so hectic, I’ve only seen you when I peer at you from the depths of my pit and I look forward to spending some real time with you.”
“I know. It’s been crazy. I’m surprised I made it through it all.”
“I’ll see you in a bit.”
***
From the top balcony, Eric stood watching the opera house slowly empty of its satisfied spectators. Annette had been even more splendid than he’d hoped for and he’d not been able to tear his eyes off her the entire show.
The époque costumes suited her, flattered her and gave her the aristocratic air she deserved. Her expansive wardrobe also reminded Eric of the similarity between Kristine and Annette. He tried to deny it; tried to look past it. But it was there; in the shimmering locks of hair that dangled from her up do, the gentle blush on her high cheekbones and the daring gleam in her eye.
Every note that had rang out had been a painful reminder of the love he’d had for Kristine and a surprising degree of longing returned to bring back his heartache. But the longing he held was strongly aimed at Annette. The sudden need to be at her side, to share in her joy was undeniable. He needed to find himself in her midst.
With the crowd adequately dispersed, he headed down to the casts’ dressing rooms. The halls were clogged with fans and people eager to tell Annette of their appreciation of her performance. She was flushed by all the compliments and attention, but she carried herself well.
Polite and welcoming, she greeted everyone and even signed several autographs as dozen upon dozen of blood red roses were collected from her arms and set inside her dressing room.
A man stayed close to her side. It took a few moments for Eric to realize that this elegantly dressed man had his arm draped over Annette’s shoulder in a rather possessive manner. His smile was calculated and his handshakes to the many fans was practiced and read false.
But beyond all this, it was the man’s face that so disturbed Eric. Though he was dressed in modern clothes and his hair had a fashionable cut, his resemblance to Eric’s nemesis was difficult to overlook. The eyes, the lips; and when the man finally spoke, Eric knew he was not mistaken.
The tone, rich and self assured, was exactly the same as Rupert Aragon. There was no mistaken it. The impossibility was outrageous and he had to listen a few moments more to assure he was hearing right.
Here he was – New York City, 2009, the Metropolitan Opera House, yet he was facing Kristine and Rupert, just as surely as if it was 1881. The intensity of the jealousy he’d felt back then came back to fill him with rage. His fingers struggled to remain lax, despite the desperate desire to clench.
Annette glanced up and caught sight of him through the throngs. Her smile was reluctant, unsure and slow to come. But when it spread across her face, her eyes gleamed with pride and an eagerness to see him. She wiggled out of Aaron’s hold and pressed through the people to where he stood.
***
When I finally reached the spot where I’d seen Eric, he’d disappeared. I continued through the corridor a little further and
I bowed one last time, the curtain closed and I headed off towards my dressing room.
“Annette,” Chace called.
Though happy to see him, I longed to retreat to my private room in order to drink it all in. “Chace, what a night.” I wrapped my arms around his neck and kissed his cheek.
“My parents made it after all and I wanted them to meet you.”
“Sure.” I glanced at the lovely woman and formally dressed man and smiled as Chace made the introductions.
After warm handshakes and a quick hug from his mother, Chace leaned in close to kiss my cheek and say, “I’ll go out and make sure they’re able to get a cab back to their hotel then I’ll come back in a bit to see you in your dressing room. I’ve missed you. These past weeks have been so hectic, I’ve only seen you when I peer at you from the depths of my pit and I look forward to spending some real time with you.”
“I know. It’s been crazy. I’m surprised I made it through it all.”
“I’ll see you in a bit.”
***
From the top balcony, Eric stood watching the opera house slowly empty of its satisfied spectators. Annette had been even more splendid than he’d hoped for and he’d not been able to tear his eyes off her the entire show.
The époque costumes suited her, flattered her and gave her the aristocratic air she deserved. Her expansive wardrobe also reminded Eric of the similarity between Kristine and Annette. He tried to deny it; tried to look past it. But it was there; in the shimmering locks of hair that dangled from her up do, the gentle blush on her high cheekbones and the daring gleam in her eye.
Every note that had rang out had been a painful reminder of the love he’d had for Kristine and a surprising degree of longing returned to bring back his heartache. But the longing he held was strongly aimed at Annette. The sudden need to be at her side, to share in her joy was undeniable. He needed to find himself in her midst.
With the crowd adequately dispersed, he headed down to the casts’ dressing rooms. The halls were clogged with fans and people eager to tell Annette of their appreciation of her performance. She was flushed by all the compliments and attention, but she carried herself well.
Polite and welcoming, she greeted everyone and even signed several autographs as dozen upon dozen of blood red roses were collected from her arms and set inside her dressing room.
A man stayed close to her side. It took a few moments for Eric to realize that this elegantly dressed man had his arm draped over Annette’s shoulder in a rather possessive manner. His smile was calculated and his handshakes to the many fans was practiced and read false.
But beyond all this, it was the man’s face that so disturbed Eric. Though he was dressed in modern clothes and his hair had a fashionable cut, his resemblance to Eric’s nemesis was difficult to overlook. The eyes, the lips; and when the man finally spoke, Eric knew he was not mistaken.
The tone, rich and self assured, was exactly the same as Rupert Aragon. There was no mistaken it. The impossibility was outrageous and he had to listen a few moments more to assure he was hearing right.
Here he was – New York City, 2009, the Metropolitan Opera House, yet he was facing Kristine and Rupert, just as surely as if it was 1881. The intensity of the jealousy he’d felt back then came back to fill him with rage. His fingers struggled to remain lax, despite the desperate desire to clench.
Annette glanced up and caught sight of him through the throngs. Her smile was reluctant, unsure and slow to come. But when it spread across her face, her eyes gleamed with pride and an eagerness to see him. She wiggled out of Aaron’s hold and pressed through the people to where he stood.
***
When I finally reached the spot where I’d seen Eric, he’d disappeared. I continued through the corridor a little further and
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