“And how do I do that?” he asked. He ran his fingers through his hair and tugged at his ponytail, frustrated. “I can’t let go of someone I never had, mama.”
“Talk to him,” she said, poking his chest. “You may find it easier to let go of the old memories when faced with the new reality. You’ve grown and changed. So has he. You may not find the man as appealing as the boy.”
A part of Emilio denied the possibility, but he ignored it. Maybe his mother was right. Maybe Rayne had turned into a pompous ass. Hell, for all Emilio knew, Rayne had fallen in love and someone had trampled all overhisheart the way he’d trampled on Emilio’s. That, at least, would be poetic justice. He had no intention of letting Rayne know how badly he’d been hurt because he didn’t want to see pity in Rayne’s eyes.
“Fine, Mama, I’ll talk to him,” he said. “I don’t think it will change a thing, but I’ll do it. For you.”
“If it doesn’t do any good, you may say ‘I told you so’ with my blessing,” she said, patting his cheek gently. “But I think it will.”
Emilio shrugged. “Enough about Rayne Sadler. Do you want to see the choreography for the flamenco? I want it to be perfect this year.”
“Of course!” she said with a warm smile. “That’s why I came in the first place. Surprise and amaze me with your brilliance!”
Emilio summoned up a smile, and then he headed over to the CD player to start the music. At least when he was dancing, he didn’t have to think. He could exist in the music and the movement, which brought him peace. Dance had gotten him through the pain of losing Rayne, and he hoped dance would get him through his conflicting emotions over Rayne’s return.
He’d poured all his passion into dance, since dance, unlike love, would never let him down.
