My heart beat overtime in my chest. A sense of anticipation moved like lightning through the air.
I had seen my wife in hundreds of performances, but never like this—locked in battle with herself. It was as if the war raging inside of her had turned inside out, and through dance, she was sharing it with me through physical representation. By the end of this dance, both versions were going to be covered in blood, sweat, and tears. Past or Future going to decide her Now.
I moved deeper into the shadows, then stood and watched, giving her more space but still occupying the moment, all in with her.
How long the song played on for, I couldn’t even estimate. Time meant nothing. When the last note trembled out, she stilled, and then, with tears in her eyes, she bowed to the picture.
“I’m done,” she whispered. Her chest heaved to the lingering pulse of the dance.
The words crushed a piece of my heart—I had never heard them in such a powerful way. Conviction made me move toward her. “Be clear,” I said.
“I can’t keep up, Brando,” she whispered.
“You can.” I stared into her eyes through the reflection in the glass. “You’re even more capable now than you were. You move like a tornado.”
“I know. But that’s not what I meant.” She turned toward me, placing her hand over my heart. “Here. This is where I’m torn.”
“You can still dance. Being here, home, is not a life sentence. It doesn’t have to be one or the other.”
“I made a vow.”
“Under false pretenses. You didn’t have enough faith—I was coming for you. And that was my fault. I handled it wrong. But you’re in the prime of your career. You don’t have to give it up.”
“You make a vow, and it’s your blood. I make a vow and it’s—what? Water?”
She moved her eyes from mine, turning them to the floor. I stared at her until she had to look at me.
“Is it the vow, Scarlett? Or something else? The truth, because it’s a ghost, and it’s not going to leave until you set it free.”
“I want—” She blew out a hot breath. “I want what I’ve always wanted, a simpler life here with you. But another part of me—it demands the dance. It’s stubborn. It refuses to give up because it’s all I know. All I’ve ever known.
“But I felt something a minute ago that I’ve never felt before. Complete peace. Even if I give up the major stage, I can still dance. I’ll always dance. And there are other things I can do that will matter. I’ve done so much already. I just need time to figure out theeverafterpart of it.”
Hearing her admit all of this, I suddenly felt sick to my stomach. I wanted her to come home, to walk through those doors on Snow, but not at the cost of her career. The house was there for us to come home to—during downtime. Again, my selfish nature shoved her into a corner and demanded she choose from the choices handed to her.
“I’m done, Brando,” she whispered, turning my face toward hers. “Not because of the house, or you, but because my heart tells me that I am. No regrets. I wear the stripes of that woman on the wall, and I’ll forever carry them with me, but it’s time for me to discover new colors.”
“This place?”
She looked around. “We’ll see.”
We stood close, but not nearly close enough. I still craved her touch, and to touch her. A touch between us wasn’t just a touch. It did something to me that I could never truly explain. She could, and she did, by describing it as a spark of electricity between us, followed by humming in the blood.
I studied her face. Some of the makeup from earlier was still on her skin, a pearl blue that had been dusted on her cheeks, and some flecks of glitter sparked in the darkness of the studio. Feeling where my gaze lingered, she put a hand to her cheek.
“I look ridiculous, don’t I? I couldn’t get it all off in time.”
“Yeah.” I grinned, removing her hand. “Ancora.Semplicemente perfetto.”
“Not so.” She smiled. “Scales on the face is notsimply perfect.”
“Not scales.” I tilted my head to the side, trying to think of the right word. “Iridescent. In different lights, the colors change. Like if you were underwater.”
“You would know a thing or two about that.”
“I would.”
Her hands came up, and I set mine against hers, our palms sliding. Her hands were so small compared to mine, but somehow I couldn’t escape the fact that even though mine swallowed hers up, she was still stronger. More capable. She held all of me and kept me safe.
