I Left My Heart in Moscow but My Love Waits in Pittsburgh

We ate lunch in silence, some of us were still too shocked to say anything, and others couldn’t get the sound of Martha’s screams out of their heads. It was those screams that reminded us of how fragile we were, of how we were one leap away from ending our careers and made us questioned why we were doing this, why we were putting our bodies on the line every day, why we were pursuing a career that ends when you’re 30.



It was silent, when I stepped into the studio which was odd considering Charlie and Alejandro weren’t exactly the silent types. Charlie was going through the choreography on one side of the studio and Alejandro was warming up and stretching at the barre on the other side. I dropped off my duffel and swapped my flip-flops for pointe shoes and went to warm up at the barre with Alejandro.

“So,” Alejandro said, breaking the tension that was undeniably surrounding us when we were warming up at the barre, “I heard about Martha, I’m sorry.”

“Don’t say sorry, you didn’t do anything,” I grinned weakly, “It’s not like you forced Martha to tear her ACL.”

“I guess you’re right,” Alejandro added solemnly, his eyes were somber and he was half-heartedly warming up. He was merely going through the motions, he wasn’t focusing on loosening his muscles or anything, it seemed.

“Were you close to her?” I was curious about his reaction. I’ve never seen Martha and Alejandro sitting next to each other, let alone talking, so it was difficult to imagine them being friends.

“I don’t know, I guess. We had a one-night stand,” Alejandro ran his fingers through his hair anxiously as his eyes shifted from left to right. His casual tone was betrayed by his nervous mannerisms.

“Oh,” was all I could say as I finished warming up and stretching. A one-night stand, it seemed so- so out of the question for me. It lacked any emotional attachment, any intimacy. I guess that was what Anna was referring to. A one-night stand was merely lust, merely the satisfying of a hunger.

“Okay, guys let’s get this baby done, so you guys can start focusing on the little nuances and on curtain call,” Charlie said smiling, clapping his hands together.

“Curtain call?” I asked confused.

“Oh they haven’t told you? Curtain call is where all the featured dancers, you know the one’s who get solos, are in the pas de deuxs, and have leads in the group numbers get to perform a fun, little group number. They call it curtain call ‘cause it’s the last dance of the show. It’s a reward, a privilege of sorts, it’s always really fun and you can show off their personality and creativity,” Charlie explained.

“Sounds fun,” I answered unsure of what my response should be.

“It is, last year we did this really cool Michael Jackson number for curtain call and I got to do the moonwalk,” Alejandro’s smiled broadly as he recalled the fond memory.

“That was fun,” Charlie said rubbing his chin as he reminisced, “Okay enough dilly-dallying we gotta get to work. And we have to go down to meet Wendy to help fit costumes,” Charlie had this cheesy, suggestive grin on his face as he elbowed Alejandro in the ribs.

“Nice,” Alejandro said, emphasizing the ‘i,’ with his signature smirk.

“Anyways, where did we leave off?” Charlie asked as he scrolled through the song to find the right place in the music.

“At the kick out lift,” I replied.

“Fantastic we will definitely finish today and we can get those costumes fitted.”

“Oh!” I exclaimed as I suddenly remembered Jordan, “Is it alright if a friend of mine drops by during fittings?”

“Sure, I don’t see why not,” Charlie said with a shrug of his shoulders. “Now let’s finish this bad boy,”



Rehearsal went well, we had finished the whole piece, and now all we had to do was refine and work on our expression. As I made my way downstairs to the Workshop, suddenly, my phone started to beep, telling me that someone was calling, it was Jordan.

“Hello,” I answered.

“Hi, I’m at the Theatre, where’s this side door you speak of?” Jordan said sounding perplexed.

“Okay, are you at the front? Where you dropped me off on Monday?”

“Yeah, I think so, so where do I go from there?”

“Okay you have to go around the Theatre and you’ll see door that says ‘Workshop’, that’s where you want to be,”

“Okay gotcha, I’ll see you soon,”

“Hopefully,” I teased as I bid my farewells and shut my phone. I had just entered the Workshop when Alex was getting fitted. Charlie was there too, making sure everything was to his liking.

“Hey, whatcha think? Pretty nice, huh?” Alejandro said as he turned around in the mirror. He was wearing a pair of dark gray slacks with a white dress shirt and tie. “Comes complete with snaps for easier ripping off,”

“It looks good,” I laughed as I nodded in approval.

“They’re made of a stretch so he can still hit those splits. Alright, all done, I’m just gonna have to hem these and it’ll be perfect,” Wendy said as she speedily finished pinning the hem of his pants.

“I can go?” Alejandro said as he checked his appearance for what seemed to be the 100th time.

“Yeah, as long as change back into your regular clothes,” Wendy said as she rifled through the countless hangers looking for my costume.

“Sweet,” Alejandro said as he went into the dressing room to change.

“Aha!” Wendy exclaimed as she pulled out a red lace, empire-waisted, lingerie-inspired number, with sequins, “I found it!”

I was at a loss for words, from the scarlet red to the shortness of the hem, I couldn’t believe they expected me to wear this. I would need to wear spandex boy shorts with them it was that short and the red color would look garish against my pale skin. The sequins which adorned the mesh stomach in a striped pattern were over the top to say the least.

“You like it?” Wendy asked eagerly.

“Umm,” I tried to say something else, but it just came out as a squeak.

“Just go try it on, and you’ll see, it’ll look perfect on you,” Wendy reassured as she pushed me towards an empty dressing room.

It took me several minutes to just gather the courage to put on the ‘dress’ I had to wear a matching scarlet boy shorts with the costume. I felt so bare, so exposed.

“Come on, Svetlana, we don’t have all day,” said Alejandro, was he waiting for me? Did he know that this was the costume?

“Okay,” I took a deep breath, trying to calm my nerves and muster up every ounce of courage as I stepped out of the dressing room.

“Wow,” was all Alejandro said as he gawked, “Looking good Svetlana,”

“Get up here,” Wendy said gesturing to the podium, so she could pin and tack anything. I merely obeyed keeping my head down because I knew that the blush on my cheeks would match my costume. “Is this how you liked it?” Wendy asked Charlie.

“Yeah, it’s perfect. I know you’re uncomfortable with this but this will help you get into character. Imagine the embarrassment- the shame that a mistress would feel. Imagine how exposed she would feel, the costume should help you do that. Just channel what you’re feeling into the character,” Charlie reassured, “Well, I trust that you two can finish up the fitting without me. I have to go. See yah, tomorrow Svetlana, Alejandro,” Charlie said as he left the Workshop.

“Yeah I have to go to, you look great, Svetlana,” Alejandro said as he too exited the Workshop. As if on cue as Alejandro and Charlie left the Workshop, Jordan pushed open the side entrance door.

“Hey, finally found this place,” Jordan said his eyes cast down, not yet seeing me, “Woah,” was all he said as his eyes grew to the size of saucers.

“Yeah, I know,” I said lowering my head as the sanguine blush crept from my cheeks down my neck.

“That’s- that’s um, really pretty, Sveta, it looks really good on you,” I could tell by how Jordan cleared his throat, he wanted to say something else.

“Thanks,” My voice was barely above a whisper.

“Don’t you just love the sequins, they will look so good on stage,” Wendy glowed as she nipped in the waist and drew chalk marks along the sides for slits.

“Could you add an elastic around the stomach?” I suggested, “So it won’t flop around when I dance,”

“Yeah of course, we have some red elastic here somewhere. Do you want to take the neckline down a little bit, to create a more sweetheart effect?”

“Yes,” Jordan blurted out impulsively.

“Sure,” I bit my lower lip apprehensively as Wendy pinned a lower neckline.

“Alrighty then,” Wendy said with a chuckle as she finished pinning the neckline, “I think we’re done here. You can change back into your street clothes, should I make an extra for you and your boyfriend?” Wendy eyes darted from me to Jordan and back to me with an inquisitive look in her eyes.

I only blushed as I hopped off the platform and walked to the dressing room. I could hear the racing of my heart and Jordan’s deep laughter as I changed back into my regular clothes. It didn’t occur to me till after I had changed out of the costume that neither of us denied Wendy’s assumption that I was Jordan’s girlfriend.

“Could you please?” Jordan said, I could hear the laughter in his voice.

“I’ll see what I can do,” Wendy teased.

Once I gathered enough courage, I walked out of the dressing room and looped my arm through Jordan’s. I think this surprised him, he tensed ever so slightly but immediately relaxed. For me, looping my arm through his was just as bold as kissing him on a public street. “Let’s go,” I adjusted the strap of my duffel and pressed my cheek against his arm.

“Sure thing, here lemme take that for you,” Jordan with a shocking ease and grace slipped my dance bag off my shoulder and swung it on to his.

“See you later Svetlana,” Wendy said as we made our way through the side exit.

“See you later Wendy,” I said waving goodbye.

“It’s nice to meet you Wendy, remember my order,” Jordan grinned a large Cheshire grin as he, too, waved goodbye, “I was hoping to see you dance, but the fitting was nice, too,”

I buried my face into his arm, hoping he wouldn’t see the blush that was spreading across my cheeks, “I’m glad you enjoyed it.”

“Oh, I more than enjoyed it,” Jordan said as I slid into the passenger seat of his car, “Should I take you home or…”

“The apartment is fine, home is in Russia. I doubt you would want to drive me there,” I joked as I wrapped my cardigan around myself tighter. I felt so exposed with Jordan having seen me in so little. I felt like whenever he looked at me he was imagining me in the red negligee. I know we kissed and I know we slept in the same bed together, but I just wasn’t ready to take it to the next step. It felt so intimate, it is so intimate.

“I guess, I wouldn’t want to drive you all the way to Russia,” Jordan mused, his eyes held a laughter and amusement, “I have an early practice tomorrow, I wouldn’t know how to make it back in time.” I just laughed as we pulled up in front of the apartment. Jordan opened my door for me, even helping me down.

“Thank you,” I whispered as I noticed how we were angled. Jordan was pressed against me, leaning on his forearm that rested against the doorframe of the car, while the car door obstructed us from Robinson’s view.

“You looked really good in your costume,” Jordan whispered and I caught the look in his eyes. The same look from my dream. The look that blurred the lines between lust and love. The lines between physical and emotional need. Before anything registered, Jordan’s lips came down onto mine.

I was startled and almost pulled away, but the fingers that had entangled themselves in my hair held me still. The practiced slide of his mouth against mine made me shudder as I thought of how he honed such skill. What startled me more was how tender and patient the kiss was but beneath that tenderness there was a hunger, a fire that seemed to be burning it’s way to the surface. I knew it was wrong, to return a kiss like this when there’s someone else, when there’s Evgeni. But I couldn’t help it, everything felt so right. Evgeni became just a distant memory and Jordan became a reality. The passion, the hunger was enveloping me and… I liked it. Jordan started to tug at the knot that tied my cardigan shut.

I froze.

“I’m sorry,” Jordan groaned as he reluctantly pulled away from the kiss, “I’m so sorry, Sveta,” Jordan whispered the regret evident in his voice, as he wrapped his arms around my waist and held me in a tender embrace, “I shouldn’t have done that, I was lost in the moment.”

“It’s okay,” I wrapped my arms around his neck, drawing him closer.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry I crossed the line.”

“It’s okay, it’s okay,” I murmured as I rested my head on his chest. I heard the lub-dubb, lub-dubb of his heart. It felt so unfair, how his heart was so calm while mine felt like it was about to jump out of my chest. His kisses was more potent than any drug, stronger than any liquor, they made my head spin and my heart race. Everything felt so safe, so right, and so true but at the same time there was a sense of urgency, a sense of danger. “I think- I think I have to go, people are starting to stare.”

“Let them stare, let’s just stay like this for a little while longer,” Jordan replied, “Let them stare. I don’t care,” And we did. I don’t know how much time passed but, I could care less. When I was with Jordan, nothing mattered except for Jordan.



“Let them stare,” I mumbled as I just held her. I tried to fight off those images of the fitting. That costume, was wow. I mean it was the skimpiest I’ve ever seen her. The way she looked in those spandex bootie shorts. Wow. The way the red lace set off her pale skin. Amazing. The way it showed off her perfect body. Incredible. The way the short hem made her legs go on for forever. Mouth-watering. The way she looked so embarrassed wearing the salacious confection. Adorable. But it was one of those things, where I couldn’t call it sexy or hot because it just had those connotations. God, connotations? Where am I getting these words? Maybe it was those images that made me want to cross the line, which I was still mentally kicking myself over. How could I so eagerly try to undress her? She’s not some puck bunny. She’s not like Oksana. I told myself chuckling lightly at my last thought, she’s more than that, she deserves more than that. I felt like I couldn’t apologize enough. I looked down at her, she looked so fragile, so delicate now, with her head pressed against my chest. I felt an instant jolt of panic, could she hear how fast my heart is pounding? I forced myself to calm down, to enjoy the moment. But, I found it difficult. The guilt ate away at me, looking at her innocence only added to it. I felt like I had taken advantage of her. But she forgave me, she forgave me. So it’s okay, right?



“You forgive me right?” Jordan’s eyes were fraught with worry as if my constant reassuring did nothing to assuage his guilt, “I just feel so guilty, I know you need time and that you’re not ready yet.”

“Of course I forgive you,” I comforted, hoping that saying it once more would ease his guilt, “We all make mistakes. We all have lapses of judgment.”

“Thank you, thank you for understanding, Sveta,” Jordan mumbled. “I think you should go inside, I’m pretty sure that this looks really suspicious to your doorman. Maybe I’ll visit you tomorrow,”

I reluctantly untangled myself from our intertwined limbs, “Today, was…” I couldn’t find the right words, nothing seemed to fit, “Today was fun,”

Jordan smiled, “Thanks, same here. Sveta, I’m sor-” Jordan started to apologize but I shushed by simply pressing my lips to his in a chaste kiss.

“I told you, I already forgive you,” I said with a smirk, that chaste, little kiss sent the adrenaline coursing through my veins as I skipped back to my apartment, “Bye Jordan, I really, really like you.”

“Bye Sveta,” Jordan said softly, touching his lips with his fingers as if he was shocked that I had done that. I felt so bold today, so empowered, I wasn’t sure what it was but I liked it.

Confidence and adrenaline coursed through my veins, the source was undoubtedly Jordan. I was practically skipping my way to the apartment. I didn't even care that Robinson was giving me questionable looks when I entered the building. Let them stare, Jordan's words echoed in the corners of my mind. I was grinning ear to ear when I reached the elevator.

When I got into the apartment, Anna was nowhere to be seen and Alicia was plopped on the couch watching TV while giving herself a manicure and pedicure. “Hey Leesha,” Leesha being my new nickname for Alicia. Anya was what I wanted to call Anna, but our friendship was questionable and I wasn't sure if I had earned it yet.

“How's it going honey?” Alicia replied completely engrossed in painting her toe nails a fire-engine red. Honey, I never understood that nickname. It was simple American term of endearment that many Russians, including myself, simply did not comprehend. Honey was dripping and sticky. Russians preferred to mold names, build out of them affectionate, individual shapes - Zhenya, Zhenechka, Zhenyusha, all pet names for Evgeni.

Names I never was able to use for Evgeni in public. In general, in Russia, you only ever use a pet name for a man is if you were lovers or immediate family. To the public, I was neither to Evgeni. To them, I did not have a right to call him Zhenya or Zhenechka affectionately. I quickly put thoughts of Evgeni out of my head. I didn't need him, I had Jordan. Jordan, I needed to create a nickname for him.

“Great, where's Anna?” I asked as I heated the leftover Chinese takeout in the microwave.

“Practicing, she'll be putting in some late rehearsals to try and get her up to speed on the number.”

“It's official then. Anna has taken over Martha's role,” I couldn't help but feel sad for Martha. She had put in so much hard work and all of it ends before performance season has even started. I couldn't fathom what Anna was going through. Did she feel guilty? Sad? Happy?

“Yup, Martha's out for the season and needs surgery. I wouldn't be surprised if she retired soon, I mean her body is pretty beat up. A lot of us including, Mr. Orr, think that she should hang up her pointe shoes,” Alicia said with a casual, almost indifferent demeanor.

I was shocked by her detached tone. This was Martha, their friend, the girl they sat with everyday to stretch and warm up. “I didn't know her for long and we weren't very close, but I'll miss her,” I was frustrated by their reactions. Would they be this nonchalant if I was injured? Would they care? Would they just be glad that there was less competition?

“She's not dead,” Alicia quipped flatly.

“I guess you're right...” My voice trailed off. My cheeks blushed pink as I picked at the carton of takeout. Not exactly healthy and it did little to ease my queasy stomach. I set the carton down on the counter and walked to my room. My limbs felt heavy and fatigue was clouding my thoughts. I showered and changed into my pajamas before slipping into bed.

I pulled the covers over my head, my cell phone warm in the palm of my hand. I was waiting for Jordan's call. He was always the one to call first. I was always the one to wait. I nearly jumped when my cell phone beeped to life, without thinking, I snapped the phone open and answered immediately, “Took you long enough,” the teasing in my voice evident.

“Lana?” The voice, I knew so well, asked with a slight confusion. “Lana? Moia dorogaia?”

Lana. My dear. He said the words so naturally, so fluidly as if he had never told me that he didn't love me, as if he had never left, as if he wasn't with someone else. Could anyone else say those words in the way he did? The way he dragged out the word “dear” in Russian, in such a melodious way.

“Are you there?” He asked in Russian. How I missed his voice, more than I realized.

“Yes,” I whispered in Russian, “Yes, I'm here.” I could feel my eyebrows knitting together in both frustration and a poignant sadness as memories of the club flooded my mind and tears stung my eyes.

“I've been thinking about you,” His soft, almost cautious like he wasn't sure if he was saying the right things.

About how you broke my heart? I thought as tried to blink away the tears.

“I've been thinking about us,” He added, not waiting for a response.

“Like what? How I came to Pittsburgh for you? How you basically said there was never anything between us? How our whole relationship meant nothing to you? Have you been thinking about the night before I left for Moscow? Have you been thinking it was a mistake?” There was anger, an anger that I didn't know existed but was quietly boiling inside of me.

“Do you think it was a mistake?” His voice was laden with guilt.

The night before I left for Moscow. I squeezed my eyes shut trying to repress the memory. I was 16, almost 17 and I was going to leave home for the first. I was going to leave Evgeni. We met outside at the lake behind my house, our usual meeting spot.



It was mid-summer and the Russian White Nights, signaled it as such. Despite it being, past midnight, the sun still burned brightly in the “night sky.”

“I'm leaving tomorrow,” Svetlana whispered as she laid in the soft, green grass. Her hand intertwined with Evgeni's, who laid in the grass next to her. Her heart pounded in her ears, at thought of her leaving, of not being able to see Evgeni everyday. Zhen-ya, Zhen-ya, Zhen-ya it seemed to be beating. She so despreately wanted to say his name out loud. Zhenya.

“I know,” There was a definite sadness to his voice, “I know,” He repeated, closing his eyes, letting the sun warm his face. He looked down at their hands, he couldn't tell his fingers from hers. He tugged on her arm, signaling he wanted her closer.

A smile spread across those lips that he had kissed over and over again. It was a genuine smile, not one of those smiles he'd seen her plaster on when she went on stage. It was a smile that brought out her dimples and reached her eyes. She snuggled closer against him, a warmth starting from the bottom of her belling spread and warmed her to her fingertips and toes.

They laid there together, intertwined on the grass like that for minutes, hours, but to the young couple it wasn't enough because soon it would be over. One of them was leaving and it would end, it would have to end.

“I want to show you a place,” Evgeni whispered into her hair, inhaling it's sweet strawberry scent.

Svetlana nodded as they both got up and Evgeni, still holding her hand, guided her around the lake to the old boathouse and lead her inside. The boathouse had been emptied long ago, when her father had sold all his row boats, but the blankets that Evgeni had laid on the floor.

They both understood what they were doing as Evgeni slid the strap of her yellow nightgown off her delicate shoulder, as Svetlana unbuttoned his cotton shirt that clung to his broad chest, as they fell to the blankets stark naked. They were consummating their relationship, their emotions, in a physical way. They were showing each other how much they loved each other. They were each other's first and in that night, they thought they would be each other's last and only. They were making love.



“No,” My voice was soft, I almost didn't want him to hear it, I didn't want myself to hear it. That night was my first, last and only time I slept with someone. I made myself completely and utterly vulnerable to him, I had given him everything, my heart, my soul, my body. But even now, as I lay in my bed with tears that refused to blink away and my heart in pieces, I still do not regret it.