There was no answer, and just as I was panicking about either having to break down the door or call reception to ask them to do it for me, the door unlocked from the inside.
Gabriele was wet from the shower, a towel around his waist. Behind him, the room was backlit and steamy. I didn’t notice it at first, but then I saw that he’d been crying. It must have hit him in the shower. He’d probably been in shock before. I rushed to him, wrapping my arms around him, not caring that he was sopping wet and that I was now, too. He let himself cry harder, sobbing softly into my shoulder.
‘I did not even get to say goodbye,’ he said.
‘I know,’ I said, wishing there was something I could say to make things better for him, just a little bit.
‘How am I going to live with the guilt of what I have done?’ he said, gasping for air in between sobs. ‘I let him down time and time again. I am not like you; I was not a good son. I refused to put my family before whatIwanted.’
‘And that’s okay,’ I said, stroking him, desperate for him not to blame himself. ‘That’s what youshoulddo. I was wrong; you were right. Your dad would have admired you for that. I bet he was so proud of what you’d achieved, even if he didn’t say it.’
And as I held him tighter, wondering how we’d got so close, never wanting to lose what we had in that moment, even if it had come at the most devastating of times, I realized that all I wanted was for him to be happy again, whatever that looked like.
‘Thank you,’ he said, coming up for air.
I nodded. ‘I’m here. Any time you want me.’
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWOLira
I stayed with Gabriele all night, just holding him. At one point, I must have fallen asleep, but I had the feeling that he’d barely closed his eyes at all. As we walked to the theatre together the following morning, I thought he looked worse than he had the night before, if that was even possible.
‘Did you get any sleep at all?’ I asked, as we waited for a bright yellow tram to pass before crossing the street.
‘Maybe an hour,’ he said. ‘I had another message from my mother. She wants me to let people know – extended family, Papa’s friends – so I spent all night working out exactly what I was going to say to everyone. Later I will need to make some calls.’
I squeezed his hand in sympathy. ‘And you booked a ticket home?’
‘Yes. I leave for Florence on the 5pm flight.’
When we arrived in the auditorium, Daniella was already on stage, talking Luca through the steps for the salsa that Gabriele and I usually danced together. As dance captain, it was her role to step in and take charge, and I imagined she would have been revelling in the authority it gave her under less awful circumstances. I swallowed sharply, suddenly thrown by the realization that I might never dance with Gabriele again, certainly not on this stage, possibly not at all, and the thought took my breath away. I reminded myself that this was not about me. That it was selfish to even consider myself at a time like this.
Daniella ran over to hug Gabriele and Luca patted him awkwardly on the back.
‘Sorry about your dad,’ he said to Gabriele.
Gabriele grunted in response. He probably didn’t trust himself to speak.
‘Okay, we have work to do,’ said Daniella, clapping her hands together. Lira, Luca, up on stage. Let’s start with that salsa I just showed you, Luca.’
I did as I was told, putting on my Latin shoes, getting up on the stage. There was no music as we marked out the steps, and I corrected Luca here and there, but Gabriele had been right: he had learned the steps remarkably well already. If only it was as simple as that, because I felt clunkyin his arms. I couldn’t explain it – when I danced with Gabriele I felt light and beautiful and capable of anything. Dancing with Luca was hard work. When he looked into my eyes, I felt nothing, and when he put his hands on my waist, it was as though he was going through the motions, as though if he could have got out of touching me, he would have done. Why was it so difficult? Out of everyone in the cast other than Gabriele, I was probably closest to him. I’d confided in him, we’d gossiped together, I really liked him and hoped we’d stay in touch. So why couldn’t we generate the chemistry we needed for this dance?
I swallowed my unease and carried on, trying to smile, trying to look as though it was okay, because Gabriele was watching with a frown on his face and I didn’t want him to worry. I didn’t want him to know that suddenly I was dreading tonight, having to perform the steps I’d previously loved, with someone who just appeared to be going through the mechanics of it all instead of really feeling it, like I knew both Gabriele and I did, night after night.
‘Let’s try with the music,’ said Daniella, also looking concerned.
Luca and I took our places on stage.
‘Am I doing okay?’ Luca whispered to me.
‘Sure,’ I said, smiling reassuringly. ‘And relax. I know it’s hard, you’re probably still trying to remember the steps. But let’s focus on our connection this time. Let’s really go for it.’
‘I don’t know what’s wrong with me. This is supposedto be what I wanted, a chance to take the spotlight, and there’s nobody I’d rather dance with than you. It’s just I feel so bad for Gabriele. And I know I’m not going to be able to recreate what the two of you have together.’
‘You don’t need to. Our dances will be different, but they’ll be just as good,’ I said, praying I was right.
‘Five, six, seven, eight!’ yelled Daniella.
As Luca and I moved around the dance floor, trying to generate the heat and fun the salsa required, I gave myself a talking-to – I had to pull this together. We’d all worked so hard on this show, it couldn’t fail now, and if we flunked the duets, I’d feel as though it was all my fault as the less experienced dancer. There was no doubt that Luca was a beautiful performer, so all we needed to do was find the connection and everything would be fine. It might notfeelfine, but it would probably look it, and that would have to be good enough, given what had happened.
