He nods. “Someone was kind enough to give me a ticket, so I thought I’d better not waste it.” He pauses. “And I was hoping to run into you.”
I want to scream “I’ve missed you” at the top of my lungs, but I’m working on my self-control. So instead, I go with, “It’s really nice to see you.”
He looks down at the floor, and I suddenly don’t think it matters what I’d said. We’re like dance partners who’ve never met before, trampling on each other’s feet and trying to figure out a rhythm.
We’re out of sync.
“How are you?” I ask after a long pause.
He looks back up, sighing into a smile. “I’m okay. A bit jet-lagged.”
“Jet-lagged from Denver?” I make a face, recalling the last place Vivien told me they were.
“I see you’re keeping tabs,” Vas says playfully. “But no. I flew in from London.”
I nod like this is all perfectly normal, even though it most definitely isn’t.
Vas is in my dressing room and we’re making small talk.
What happened to us?
And then I remember. I happened to us.
“I’m sorry,” I say, my brain feeling like it’s about to collapse. “For everything I said. Most of it was just coming out wrong, but I handled the whole thing terribly. And you didn’t deserve that.”
“No,” he cuts in. “I did deserve it. I was interfering with something that had nothing to do with me. There’s no scenario in the world where it’s okay to want your girlfriend to stay at a job she hates just because you don’t want to lose her. That was me being selfish, and I’m the one who’s sorry.”
Girlfriend. We’d never used titles out loud before. Hearing him say it in reference to the past—to our breakup—makes my chest quiver.
He sighs. “And everything you said to me was true. About being a hypocrite. But everyone needs to be called out on their bullshit now and then, right?” There’s a twitch in the corner of his mouth.
I try to smile, even though my face feels heavy. “I appreciate the apology, but there’s really nothing to forgive.”
He looks at me like there’s so much more he wants to say.
The feeling is definitely mutual.
“So,” I say. “You’re here. In Las Vegas.” I’m trying—and failing—to hide my excitement.
He bounces on his toes, nervous again. “Uh, yeah. I have a job offer, actually.”
“Really?” I’m standing now, one hand clutching the back of my chair because I’m worried his news is going to make me topple over.
I knew this was a possibility, but seeing him right here, in front of me…
I’m unprepared.
He nods. “Here. At Teatro della Notte.”
I feel dizzy with hope.
“Your dad got in touch and said he loved the song I wrote. The one we performed to. He asked if I had any more material—said he was looking for an up-and-coming composer to mentor, because he’s been thinking about slowing down his schedule.” Vas smiles gently. “He said he wanted to spend more time with his family.”
My heart tumbles and tumbles and tumbles.
“I haven’t officially accepted the job yet,” he explains while my brain is still processing that he’s really here because of my dad. Because of what I asked my dad to do. “It didn’t seem right to accept without asking your permission first.”
“You should take the job,” I say, like everything about this is simple. I’m trying my best to look surprised, but I don’t think it’s working.
Vas watches me, a glint appearing in the corner of his eye. “Did you have anything to do with the job offer?”
And because there’s no point in lying to Vas about something he clearly knows the answer to, I say, “Yes.”
“Why?” The word vibrates through my core.
What kind of question is that? Why do I want Vas here? Why do I want him to be happy? Why do I want to make things better between us?
Why implies he doesn’t have a clue.
Maybe we’ve grown further apart than I realized.
“Because you deserve this,” I say at last.
“I thought—hoped—it was because of you,” he says quietly. “I’m glad I wasn’t wrong. I would’ve felt pretty silly right about now if you’d said you didn’t know a thing about the job.”
“Why would that make a difference? It’s a great job. My dad is a great… composer.” I make a face. It’s impossible to hide how awkward I feel.
“But we’d see each other a lot. Maybe even most days.”