I offered her a bite of mine, knowing her little game.
“You shouldn’t do that,” I said, watching as the kids took in Main Street, laughing and enjoying the night. “If he doesn’t order, he doesn’t get it. He has to realize he’s only hurting himself.”
“Is he?” she muttered, taking another offered bite of mine.
“Here,” I said, handing her the entire thing. “I’ve had enough.”
Laughing, she took it, but after a couple of bites, offered it to me again.
“Tell me again when the teachers are coming,” I said, giving her a sideways glance.
“Next week.”
“Bene.”
“I suppose so,” she whispered.
Cerise had taken a teacher’s position at the small school, one of a handful of women who were going to teach. Since Mia was so advanced, Scarlett’s mother reached out to some of the best teachers, hiring them to teach Mia in Louisiana. At some point Scarlett mentioned taking her to New York, but she could learn the same amount here.
Scarlett’s own insecurities made her hesitate outside of the dance studio.
Mia’s life ran in a similar parallel to the one Scarlet had growing up, and my wife still couldn’t get over the fact that her father had had affairs with her teachers. Though her trust issues had lessened over the years, some situations still felt too close to home.
Opening the door to the studio, I told the kids to go ahead, and I kept Scarlett outside with me.
“You’ve been quiet,” I said, putting an arm to the side of her head, leaning against the building. I came in closer. “What’s on your mind, Ballerina Girl?”
“Lots,” she said.
I grinned. “Give me the most pressing.”
“Matteo.”
“Second.”
Her eyes searched mine.
“Do I have to admit it?”
“You don’t.”
Her truth was already mine. It was hard for her to separate her fear—truth from lies.
Truth: her father had affairs.
Lies: I’d do the same.
The simple response frustrated her even more though.
“I know you,” she said. “I know this isn’t about us. This is about my own…fears.”
“You still fear losing me?”
Her eyes opened wide before her mouth pinched. “Do I need to?”
“Stop answering a question with a question.”
She sighed, long and hard. “Yes, I do.” She shrugged. “I can’t seem to help it. I—I love you more than ever. I never thought I could love anyone as much as I loved you that day in the snow, in that moment, standing right here. And here I stand, corrected. You hold all that power, and without it…Ifeel powerless to stop…”
