I bid her to close her eyes and I embraced her there in front of everyone, holding her close and tight. “Nobody is judging you or I right now, and, ...f they are, their verdicts are irrelevant,” I whispered in her ear, “There is nothing wrong with what we are doing…nothing at all. This is our moment and the only people who matter are you and me.” As I whispered we slowly started swaying to the sound of the music, my hands around her shapely waist and her hands around my neck. Her head was on my. " 'Recently?'" she echoed. "How recently? I mean, you were a perfectly fine Marullo, nice and solid and musical, but there wasn't even a hint of what you did tonight." Verdi didn't write Marullo to compete with Rigoletto," I explained a bit pedantically. "I mean, it throws off the whole balance of the opera if..." I trailed off; her expression, one eyebrow cocked and a half-smile on her lips, told me she wasn't buying."Well, you're right about that so far as it goes, you'd have sung Ivor"—our. More

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