“That’s wild.” Clive had seemed so nice when I met him at Neon, though he’d raised several red flags during our date. I hadn’t talked to him since then, so finding out he was the culprit behind the vandalization was a shock. “Did you confront him?”
“Almost.” A muscle ticked in Asher’s jaw. “I thought about it, but it wasn’t worth the trouble. The car is fixed, I survived the crash, and Ivy broke up with him over what he did. I did consult with my lawyers, which was how Jules found out about it, but I don’t want a legal battle. Karma will take care of him.” A wicked smile stole across his lips. “I did see that he lost his last three rugby matches. Took quite a hit during the last one, too, and is out for the foreseeable future with a broken leg. So karma works fast.”
“Asher Donovan taking the high road?” I teased. “You really have grown.”
We didn’t get a chance to talk more before Emma’s parents showed up. Our seats were next to theirs, and they showered us with effusive greetings when they saw us.
“Glad to have you at Blackcastle, by the way,” Emma’s father said, shaking Asher’s hand. “I’ve been a fan of yours even when you were at Holchester. I think this year is our year.”
Asher smiled. “I think so too.”
We quieted as the lights dimmed and the show started.
Emma’s eyes lit up when she saw me, but that was all the reaction she allowed herself before she sank fully into the role of Sugar Plum Fairy.
As I predicted, she nailed her performance. When she glided across the stage, the picture of serene grace, I didn’t feel a single ounce of envy-only pride and the liberating peace that came with laying the ghosts of my past to rest at last.
In the week leading up to the staff showcase, I hoped that, like Westbury, it would prove less daunting than I imagined.
So far, I was conflicted.
The performance took place exactly one week after the student one. The backstage area was a zoo as everyone scrambled to finish prepping, and judging by the noise that seeped through the thick velvet curtains, it was a full house tonight.
“How are you feeling?” Tamara asked. She sounded calm, but the pinch in her brow betrayed her nerves.
“Not too bad.” I smoothed a hand over my costume and tried to steady the wild patter of my heartbeat. “I can’t believe it’s here.”
“It does sneak up on you, doesn’t it?” She smiled. “You’ve been great during rehearsal, so don’t worry. Everything will be fine.”
Neither of us mentioned my disastrous first rehearsal. That was in the past, and we’d come a long way since then.
“Thank you,” I said. “For everything.”
She’d been hard on me during the first rehearsal, but since then, she’d gone above and beyond to accommodate my needs. If it weren’t for her, the past few months would’ve been torturous.
“Don’t get sentimental on me,” Tamara said crisply, but there was a small twinkle in her eyes. “If you really want to thank me, go out there and show them how it’s done.”
“I’ll try. I mean, I will,” I amended.
“Good.”
Another dancer called her away soon after, and I waited until she left before I braved a peek around the curtain. My heart trembled at the size of the crowd packing the auditorium, but it gradually steadied as more and more familiar faces came into view.
I spotted Asher front and center with Vincent, Carina, Brooklyn, and my parents, who sat on either end of the row so they could avoid talking to each other. My father had fully recovered from his injury over the summer, and he’d brought his (ex) home nurse as his date. That had to rankle my mother, who’d shown up solo. I’d bet my last quid she’d take up with some studly young gardener to spite my father within the next month.
Emma and her parents sat in the row behind them, atwitter with excitement. There were even a few Blackcastle players sprinkled throughout the audience, including Noah, Adil, Samson, and Gallagher.
I inhaled a deep breath and allowed myself a moment to take it all in-the lights, the people, the ripple of anticipation coursing through the air.
This wasn’t my dazzling star turn as a promising young ingénue. My performance wouldn’t be reviewed in
The Guardian or have an encore at Westbury the following night. I would never be that dancer again, and-for the first time since my accident-I was at peace with it.
That chapter of my life had closed, but this time, I could close it on my own terms.
“Alright, everyone!” Tamara clapped to get our attention. “Five minutes till showtime.”
This is it.
Nerves fluttered through me.
Four minutes.
The air took on a surreal, hazy quality. After months of rehearsals, anxieties, and self-doubt, it was hard to believe the moment had arrived.
Three minutes.
I pictured the people waiting on the other side of the curtain. There were strangers, yes, but there were also people there for me. People who loved me, supported me, and would never judge me no matter how well or how poorly I performed. They were my rocks, and thinking about them quelled some of my nerves.
Two minutes.
A strange calm descended as everyone settled into their places. Of course I wanted to dazzle onstage, but at the end of the night, it wasn’t about the perfect performance. It was about the fact that I was here at all.
For years, I’d avoided participating in the showcase because I was scared I wouldn’t live up to who I used to be. I’d finally faced those fears and learned to appreciate my body in all its forms.
I had to scratch and claw my way toward this moment, but I made it. I was here, and that was an accomplishment in and of itself.
One minute.
That being said, I wouldn’t be me if I didn’t pour my heart out on that stage. This performance was my swan song, and I was going to try my damn hardest to do it the justice it deserved.
The remainder of my nerves dissolved into a soft smile.
Showtime.
The curtains rose.
The music started.
And I danced.
ASHER
Two months later
“Since it’s our six-month anniversary, I could technically make you tell me where we’re going,” Scarlett said. “I’ll say it’s my anniversary gift. You can’t deny me that, can you?”
“Nice try, darling, but if you waste your gift asking me about the surprise, you won’t get the surprise itself,” I said, amused. “And trust me. You’ll want the surprise.”
“This is torture,” she grumbled, but I heard the curiosity in her voice, even if I couldn’t see it in her eyes.
I’d secured a silk blindfold over them before we left my house and remained steadfast against her attempts to make me crack. I hadn’t spent months planning tonight’s date to ruin it at the last minute.
Our footsteps echoed against the marble floors as I guided her through the entryway and up the lift. Our destination was on the third floor, and I wasn’t going to risk taking her up three flights of stairs when she was blindfolded.
New Book: Back Home to Marry Off Myself
Loredana’s father left the family for his mistress, leaving them to fend for themselves abroad. When life was at its toughest, her father showed up with “good news” after 8 years of absence: To marry off Loredana to a paralyzed son of the wealthy Mendelsohn family.