“You didn’t,” I assure him, though my voice wavers slightly. “But we both need to stay focused. Paris is what matters right now.”
He nods again, his expression unreadable. “You’re right.”
I take another step back, putting more distance between us. The silence stretches once more, laden with words left unsaid. Then I straighten my shoulders and lift my chin. “Get some rest. We have a lot of work ahead of us.”
He offers a small smile, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “Good night, Vaeda.”
“Good night, Mateo.”
I watch as he gathers his bag and heads for the door, his steps soft and uncertain. So unlike the confidence he exudes on the dance floor. When the door closes behind him, I exhale slowly,my hand brushing over my face. Whatever just happened, it’s not something I can afford to dwell on. Not now.
The studio is eerily quiet, the thrum of the lights the only sound. I stand there, staring at the door long after Mateo has left. My heart is still racing, my mind replaying the moment he leaned in. I had stepped away, but the intensity lingered, wrapping around me like a ghost.
I’m married. I’m his instructor. I’m ten years older than him. Every reason why this is wrong feels like a boulder on my chest, pressing the air from my lungs, and yet… I can’t stop wondering. What if I hadn’t stepped back? What if I had let him close the distance? What would his lips feel like against mine? The thought sends a shiver down my spine with equal parts thrill and shame.
I shake my head, forcing the thoughts away. This is dangerous. Reckless. Mateo is vulnerable, trying to piece his life back together. And me? I have a husband waiting for me at home. A man who has stood by me through everything. What kind of person does this make me?
With a sigh, I walk to the mirrored wall and press my palms against the cool surface, letting my forehead rest against the glass. The reflection staring back at me is too raw and exposed. I’ve always prided myself on my control, my ability to maintain composure no matter the circumstance, but tonight, that composure cracked, and I’m not sure how to piece it back together.
After a long moment, I push away from the mirror and begin locking up the studio. I double-check the doors and turn off the lights, leaving the space shrouded in darkness. When I step outside, the city greets me with a fresh layer of snow. The flakes fall gently, settling on my hair and coat as I stand there, staring up at the sky.
The world feels still, hushed by the snow’s quiet insistence. I take a deep breath, the cold air filling my lungs and clearing my mind. Whatever this is, this pull toward Mateo, I have to bury it. For his sake and mine, and for everything I’ve worked so hard to build.
With that resolve, I pull my coat tighter around me and step onto the sidewalk, the snow crunching softly beneath my boots as I head home.
ELEVEN
Mateo
The apartment is dark when I slip through the door, closing it softly behind me. I’m careful not to make any noise, praying my mother is still asleep, but as I step into the living room, my heart sinks. She’s sitting in the armchair by the window, her silhouette illuminated by the glow of the city lights outside.
“Mami,” I start, but she cuts me off with a sharp inhale.
“Where have you been?” she demands, her voice low and tight. Her eyes flash in the dim light, and I can feel the weight of her accusations before she even speaks them. “Don’t you dare lie to me, Mateo.”
“I wasn’t doing anything wrong,” I quickly defend myself, trying to keep my tone calm. “I promise.”
She rises from the chair, her movements graceful but charged with anger. “Do you know how long I’ve been sitting here? Wondering if you were out there…” she trails off, her voice breaking. “If you were using again?”
“I’m not,” I say firmly, stepping closer. “Mami, you have to believe me. I’ve been clean. I swear.”
She shakes her head, her hands trembling as she presses them to her temples. “How can I believe you when you sneak out like this? When you don’t answer my calls or tell me where you’re going?”
“Because I’ve been doing something good,” I reveal, my voice rising with desperation. “Something that… that makes me feel like myself again.”
Her eyes narrow, suspicion and hurt mingling in her expression. “What are you talking about?”
I take a deep breath, the words catching in my throat. This is the moment. I can’t hide it anymore. “I’ve joined a dance class,” I confess, my voice steady despite the storm raging inside me. “And not just any class. It’s an advanced class, focusing on competing. Vaeda and Greyson… they’ve chosen me to compete in Paris.”
For a moment, she just stares at me, her face unreadable. Then slowly, she sinks back into the chair, her hand covering her mouth. “Paris?” she whispers. “You… you’ve been dancing again?”
I nod, stepping closer. “It’s different this time, Mami. I’m not doing it to escape. I’m doing it because I love it. It’s the one thing that makes me feel alive.”
Her hand drops to her lap, and she looks up at me, her eyes shining with unshed tears. “Mateo… why didn’t you tell me?”
“I knew you’d worry, and because Dad…” I trail off, shaking my head. “He’d never understand. He’ll think I’m making a mistake. That I’m putting myself at risk.”
“He’s not the only one who worries,” she rasps, her voice thick with tears. “Do you know how terrified I’ve been? Watching you fight so hard to pull yourself back from the edge, only to see you run toward the very thing that almost destroyed you?”
