The Metropolis Case_ A Novel - Matthew Gallaway [109]
“Maria, whatever happens—”
“Don’t,” she begged. “Last night, I didn’t—”
“No, you did,” he said. “You were right.”
She took a deep, trembling breath and began to respond.
“Don’t. It’s okay,” he said, but his eyes didn’t quite meet hers.
She understood that to survive these next few seconds she would have to be bigger and stronger—even inhuman—and for once did not have to summon any courage to make this part of herself appear but simply allowed it to happen, even though there wasn’t the remotest chance she was going to sing. As if she had put on a costume or a coat of armor, it was someone new—or at least in disguise—who gingerly wrapped her arms around him, though they barely touched as she bent down and kissed both of his cheeks for what she knew would be the last time. With a distant and bemused smile on her face, she straightened up and addressed the air over Richie’s head. “Good-bye, darling,” she said and kept her eyes from meeting his as he walked around the barrier to hand his boarding pass to the attendant.
She waved one last time and was halfway back to the terminal exit before she leaned against a dingy pay phone and laughed: when had she ever called him darling? The answer, of course, was never; yet it had come out so effortlessly, like she had rehearsed it a thousand times. She turned around with the faint expectation that the footsteps she heard behind her belonged to Richie. Seconds passed; he didn’t appear, and—as she had to admit—she didn’t want him to. She pushed through the glass doors and from the buzz in her ears knew she might have been crying except for the lack of tears.
On the sidewalk, she listened to the empty honks of taxis and the intermittent roar of a passing bus as she waited for her own. It was over ninety degrees outside, and though she could not completely escape the sense of having succumbed to something, it was also a transformation that left her impervious to the hot, muggy air, which seemed like a blanket that could easily be thrown off the bed. Her heart raced as she considered what had just happened, along with the thrilling certainty that whatever grief or loss or failure she felt was momentary, nothing but clouds that could be burned away in the blazing sun of a gigantic career.
31
The Intermittences of the Heart
VIENNA, 1865. When Lucien returned to Vienna at the end of July, he learned that Eduard’s difficulties at the opera house were more severe than he had let on. The foundation and exterior walls of the structure were complete—and the addition of the roof imminent—but a committee of retired military men and architects, all of whom Eduard knew and detested but who had managed to get the ear of the emperor, were attempting to mandate design alterations—ranging from the addition of a huge pediment on the façade to a large outer staircase leading up to the entrance—to enhance the “imperial aura of the monument.” While their jurisdiction to issue such an edict was being scrutinized by Eduard’s allies both in and out of the government—with newspapers running editorials both for and against—the tension throughout the city was palpable; when they went out in the evening, Lucien could feel the stares of Eduard’s enemies boring into their backs, and rooms were divided into clusters of those who could or could not be trusted.
One morning—not long into September—Lucien woke up and found Eduard still in bed beside him. “Are you sick?” he asked.
“I’m sick of fighting,” Eduard mumbled.
“I know you are,” Lucien sighed. “But you can’t give up now.”
“I can’t?”
Lucien laughed uneasily. “I’m not even going to answer that—”
“Why? Just because everything has worked out in the past?” Eduard rolled away. “There’s a first for everything.”
Lucien ignored him. “Don’t you have a meeting?”
“I do,” Eduard confirmed. He sat up for a few seconds and then collapsed. “But I need more sleep.”
Lucien put his hand on Eduard’s shoulder. “Are you sure you’re all right?”
Eduard pulled away. “Lucien—please—you’re not helping.”
“Okay, then—I’ll leave you alone.” Lucien went