4
RORY
Rory’s eyes adjusted to the interior of the opera house after the blinding sunshine of the afternoon. It was a gorgeous piece of architecture, and every time her grandmother brought her here, she found herself relaxing and letting the stresses of life waft away from her. The last few members of the audience were making their way to their seats, and a buzz of anticipation rippled around the auditorium.
Gemma’s grandmother had booked tickets in one of the private boxes at the back of the auditorium, and it added an extra level of luxurious intimacy to the event. They were seeing a Mozart opera, and she found it a very easy one to listen to as it didn’t require too much concentration on her part. Whilst she was not a huge opera or classical music fan outside of these trips, she enjoyed the theatre, drama and spectacle of a live operatic performance. She loved being able to turn her phone off and being plunged into the darkness to enjoy sublime music that would wash over her like a wave of cool, refreshing water, which took away all her stress, just for a moment.
She shifted in her seat, tugged to adjust her jacket, andthen remembered that Gemma was sitting next to her. A different sort of stress took hold of her. If she had been in any doubt about breaking up with Darcy, then Gemma’s reappearance in her life had washed away that doubt. In the years that she and Darcy were together, never had Rory had such a visceral reaction to her, or such a deep one. Never had she wanted to throw caution to the wind and capture Darcy’s lips in a bruising kiss as she did with Gemma. She shifted in her seat again, but this time it was because she suddenly felt uncomfortable in a whole different way. Idly, she cast a glance sideways and got as far as Gemma’s breasts before snapping her eyes away. She looked stunningly gorgeous, and Rory felt every part of her body react to her. It would have been much easier if she hadn’t had ten years’ worth of guilt and regret coursing through her. But she had to live with that decision, and it felt wrong to look at her when Rory was certain that the years of longing must be pouring out of her eyes.
The lights dimmed, and an expectant hush descended on the waiting crowd. Rory dimly recognised that the conductor was being applauded and that the music had started, but she found she couldn’t lose herself in the action like she always had before. She shifted awkwardly again until a gentle hand rested on her thigh and Gemma whispered in her ear.
“Will you stop fidgeting.” Gemma’s voice was husky in her ear, and the wisps of her warm breath tickled Rory’s neck.
Rory dipped her head to reply—being sat down took away the advantage of Gemma’s heels, and Rory was again the taller of the two. She took a breath before replying and immediately regretted it. Gemma’s perfume shot up her nose and directly to her groin, and she shifted awkwardlyagain. She had stupidly not adjusted her trousers when she sat down, and the seam was pressing into her clit and causing all manner of interesting problems.
“Sorry, I…” she whispered back but got a glare from her grandmother and quickly stopped talking. She lifted herself out of the seat briefly to adjust her trousers and jacket and sat again. She cast another longing look at the woman who sat next to her in the dark and wondered just how she was going to get through the next couple of hours.
Rory had just relaxed into the comedy of the opera and was laughing along with the rest of the audience when the character of Cherubino burst onto the stage. Traditionally, and tonight, he was played by a female singer. In the past, Rory hadn't really thought about it, but tonight, it pierced her heart more than she wanted. As Cherubino flirted and flounced around the stage, Rory mused that no one batted an eyelid at this woman wearing men’s clothes, but when she considered it, it gave her palpitations.
Her eyes flicked to the supertitles as Cherubino started his aria ‘Non so piu’. In it, Cherubino sang of not knowing himself. Rory knew enough of the story to know that Cherubino was talking about his feelings for women. He was, after all, an adolescent teenager going through puberty and learning about love for the first time. Rory gulped and tugged at her shirt. This suit and shirt didn't fit properly because she’d bought them online, too embarrassed to go into a shop. She wished she’d had the guts to wear a bow-tie, but had caved at the last minute and worn her shirt open-necked with a few pieces of jewellery to feminise it. Makeup had been completely out of the question, but as she rarely wore it in the past, it hadn’t seemed to have surprised anyone that she wasn’t wearing any tonight.
She remained lost in her thoughts until Cherubino’ssecond aria, which he sang directly to the very attractive countess. He sang of love and his confusion over his feelings. This aria tipped Rory’s thoughts back to Gemma. Cherubino’s gorgeous mezzo-soprano voice effortlessly pierced the air as he complained of feeling on fire one minute and then cold as ice the next.
Ever since Gemma had got out of the taxi this afternoon, Rory had been feeling the same. Earlier, she had glanced down to where Gemma’s leg was resting next to hers and got a glimpse of a sliver of smooth, silky skin visible through the slit in Gemma’s dress. That was enough to send her pulse skyrocketing again, and meant that she paid absolutely no attention whatsoever to the action on the stage.
Unfortunately, as they emerged back into the evening sunshine, her grandmother had immediately grabbed her and demanded her opinion on the opera and the singers. Rory tried her best to answer as noncommittally as she could, but she feared it was obvious that she was bluffing her way through the answers.
Her ordeal, fortunately, was short-lived as they arrived back at their table, and they set up for the main part of their meal. There was a gap now of an hour and a half for them to eat their dinner, and Rory hoped she would be free from too much cross-examination.
Since her relationship with Darcy had finished, she had been on a journey to explore who she was again. She had fallen into the trap of becoming the person her fiancée had wanted her to be rather than the person she was. She had allowed Darcy to change her, and that had prickled at her. She waved to her parents to sit down, then she and Gemma set out the food, moving seamlessly together. It was like every holiday they had shared in the past, and the ten-year gap melted away as if they had never been apart. Before long, the table was set, and everyone wasenjoying the sumptuous dinner. If it had been this easy with Darcy, then perhaps their relationship would have survived, but by now Darcy would have criticised the food, the place settings and the wine that Gemma’s dad had generously provided as well as correcting Rory and how she was laying things out.
Rory suggested that this time they move around and that the granddaughters should sit with their grandparents. She couldn’t take another moment sitting next to Gemma. To have that gorgeous woman pressed so close to her but being unable to act on her attraction was more than she could handle. She congratulated herself on her strategy until she realised she was now sitting directly opposite Gemma and had a full view of her lovely face. Her eyes slowly roamed over the expanse of skin that Gemma’s dress left uncovered, and she looked longingly at her long, slim neck and that gorgeous chest that she just wanted to fall into.
She inwardly rolled her eyes and tried to concentrate on the conversation, relieved that, for a moment, she and Gemma were out of the line of questioning.
As the evening drew on and the light faded, the candles that her mother had strategically placed around the table provided more of the light and bathed Gemma’s face in the most wonderful warm glow. Rory felt her insides melt a bit more and wondered again why she hadn’t said no to her mother’s invitation.
Her mother had been insistent that Rory attend. Amanda Davies always loved a party and had been nagging her for weeks. Initially, Rory had cried off as Darcy wasn’t going to be with her, but Amanda had brushed off her excuses. It was only when Rory had met her parents and the Armstrongs at the hotel earlier today that Amanda had confessed that Gemma had been invited.
Itwas obvious Amanda wanted to know the real reason behind Rory and Darcy’s breakup, but Rory found she couldn’t talk to her mother about it. That would mean she’d have to talk about the other things going on in her life, and that was too much for her to reveal at the moment. Rory had hoped for any reason to get out of seeing Gemma again, but she knew she couldn’t avoid Gemma forever and as the evening went on, she realised she didn’t want to. She missed her best friend and the closeness that they had once shared as teenagers, and Rory had hoped that she could recapture that friendship. Her attraction to Gemma, however, had caught her completely unawares, and her body physically ached to reach out and hold her. She finished her wine and refilled everyone’s glasses, relieved that they were all getting taxis to the hotel.
As before, the grandmothers suggested they should all enjoy a walk around the lake before the second half of the opera, but to Rory’s horror, the parents coupled up and the grandmothers toddled along together, which left her and Gemma side by side. After a few minutes of traipsing after their families, Rory took pity on Gemma in her high heels and again offered her an arm to lean on. She had no idea what to say to Gemma and so they walked behind the families in companionable silence until Gemma’s grandmother pointed out something in the distance that Rory and Gemma absolutely had to look at.
Reluctantly, Rory and Gemma agreed, and Rory led them off across the garden to the art installation that they were instructed to see. It comprised several statues delicately arranged in the corner of the garden. Now that the light was fading, spotlights lit the statues and sculptures, and the effect against the twilight of the sky was quite dramatic. Gemma preferred to wander from sculpture tosculpture, whilst Rory wanted to read every inscription, so they drifted apart for a few moments, which gave Rory some breathing room. Once she had looked at everything she wanted to, she found Gemma squinting at a piece that consisted of twisted and rusty metal that looked tortured.
“What’s that meant to be?” Rory stood behind Gemma and spoke gently into her ear so as not to disturb the reverent quiet that most people seemed to feel necessary around the pieces of artwork.
“It’s called ‘Torment’ and represents the conflicting emotions within the sculpture.”
Rory hummed and looked at the piece again. It certainly spoke to her on some level as she thought about her own identity issues. She had been introspective ever since the character of Cherubino had burst onto the stage. Recently, she had been thinking about how she presented herself to the world and, if she was honest with herself, that had been a big part of her split from Darcy. She had been thinking about it through the first two acts of the opera but couldn’t yet find the words to explain it more to either herself or her family. This piece of art, however, gave a glimpse of the turmoil she was feeling. She was about to look at the information card next to the piece when Gemma spoke again.
“Do you feel like we’re being thrown at each other?” Gemma turned in front of Rory and, because of their closeness, Rory felt their breasts rub against each other. All thoughts of the artwork and her inner turmoil were completely forgotten at the sensation of having Gemma pressed against her.
“Well, I don’t mind if you don’t.” She flipped an eyebrow up and shot her best smile at Gemma. She was beyond the point of trying to hide her attraction to the other woman. No one had looked at her the way Gemma did for a long time,and Rory loved how it made her feel. As the sun had gone down, the cool summer evening air had wrapped itself around them and provided an air of intimacy that had not been so evident in the full sun and blazing glare of their families during the afternoon.
Gemma pushed at Rory’s chest as if to indicate that they should move somewhere a bit more private for the talk that was about to happen. Not for the first time that evening, Rory felt butterflies tickling in her tummy and a sickening feeling settling over her. What if her attraction to Gemma was not reciprocated? Had she behaved in a way that made Gemma feel uncomfortable? She took a quick look around the gardens and spotted a bench under a tree that was unoccupied and steered Gemma towards it.
She sat and fiddled nervously with her cufflinks and waited for Gemma to speak.
