inflicted.
“Well then, how long? When did it begin?” Tonio cried. “When was it that I was not enough for you, tell me?”
“Enough for me? You are the world to me,” Guido said softly.
“But you won’t give her up….”
Guido said nothing.
It was no use talking any more; he knew the answers would be the same, and that this abyss could open under him, that this misery could come, drawing him back to his other earlier hurts, was stunning him. This pain seemed unendurable. It resonated with every fiber of his being, and it seemed the small world he had made for himself in this place teetered, threatened to crumble. What did it matter that he had once known worse pain? It was unreal to him, it was this moment that was real now.
He wanted to get up, to go away. He never wanted to see Guido again, nor the Contessa, nor anyone here, and yet this was unthinkable.
“I loved you….” he whispered. “There was no one for me but you. There was no one else ever.”
“You love me now, and there is no one else for me but you,” Guido answered. “You know that.”
“Don’t say any more. Just leave it. It only gets worse the more you say. It’s over.”
But as soon as he had spoken those words, he knew Guido was moving towards him.
And just when he thought surely he would strike Guido, he felt himself turning to him. It was almost as if in his misery, he could not resist Guido. Guido could yet protect him even from Guido’s cruelty. And when Guido whispered again, “You are my life,” it was tortured and hungry, and Tonio gave himself over to him.
Guido’s kisses were slow and savoring. It seemed passion came in such clear waves, carrying Tonio up, only to slacken ever so slightly, just before swelling again.
But when it was finished and they lay close, intertwined, Tonio whispered in Guido’s ear, “Show me how to understand this. How could you wound me and feel nothing? I would not for all the world have wounded you so, I swear it.”
He thought he saw Guido smile in the dark. But it was not an ugly smile. Rather it was sad and his sigh seemed to come from the weight of some old knowledge.
There was in his embrace then a desperation, and as he folded Tonio yet closer to his chest, he held him as if someone else meant to take him.
“In time, beautiful one, you will,” he said. “And for now, show me this gentle generosity.”
Tonio’s eyes were closing. He wanted to deny it, but it seemed even as he slipped reluctantly into his dreams that a vast part of this puzzle was missing and he had only just seen the size of it. There were fears stirring in him, fears he could not voice, and he knew for this moment Guido loved him and he loved Guido and if he were to press for the missing part of that puzzle, misery might overwhelm him again.
He accepted it. He felt helpless, but he accepted it. And in the days that followed he understood this had been wise, for Guido was more surely his than ever before.
Yet one bitter lesson had been learned by Tonio: it was not Guido who kept him from the blond-haired girl. Tonio’s guilt in the chapel that night for so much as glimpsing her paintings mocked him in memory, because he knew now he might approach her without so much as an explanation to Guido, and yet he could not bring himself to do it, falling silent and miserable every time she crossed his path.
But his love for Guido filled him and quieted him in the months to come. It seemed at times he was tantalized by the knowledge that Guido had his Contessa. And from Guido he received an even greater measure of tenderness and submission, perhaps because Guido was at last receiving the recognition as a composer he had craved for so long.
As the warmer months came on again, with all their inevitable festivals and processions—and occasional excursions with Paolo into the countryside—it was clear that Guido was much in demand.
Advanced composition students were given to him; the beginners were taken away; and with Tonio as his star pupil, and Paolo surprising everyone, he was attracting more excellent singers than he could accept.
He was placed in almost complete control of the school theater, and though he drove everyone mercilessly, Tonio found him all the more