"It's perfect. Physical and mental recovery in one place, both of us using our experiences to help others." My mind was already racing with possibilities. "We'd need to finish school first, get properly certified..."
"Obviously. But in a few years? When we're ready?" He pulled me back against him. "I like the idea of building something together. Not just a relationship, but a legacy."
"A legacy," I repeated, testing the word. "I like that."
We fell silent, watching penguins waddle across the screen, both of us thinking about the future we were building. A future that looked nothing like what we'd planned two years ago, but somehow felt more right than any dream we'd had before.
"Derek?" I said sleepily.
"Hmm?"
"I'm really glad my hip got messed up."
He tensed. "What?"
"Not the pain part. Not losing ballet. But if I hadn’t been injured, I wouldn't have been taking Pilates. I wouldn't have been certified to teach you. We might never have gotten close." I looked up at him. "And then I wouldn't have this. Us. This whole future we're planning."
"I'm really glad I tore my ACL too," he said softly. "For the same reason. It brought me to you."
"We're a couple of weirdos, being grateful for our catastrophic injuries."
"The best kind of weirdos." He kissed me. "The kind who turn trauma into something beautiful."
"Something beautiful," I echoed. "I like that even more than legacy."
We fell asleep like that, tangled together, the penguin documentary still playing. And for the first time since my surgery, I didn't dream about dancing on stage.
I dreamed about the studio Derek and I would build together. About the people we'd help. About the life we were creating, one brave choice at a time.
It wasn't the dream I'd started with.
But it was so much better.
EPILOGUE
DEREK
Three years later
The studio space was perfect with high ceilings, lots of natural light, and just enough room for both Pilates equipment and a small counselling office. Rosie walked through it for the third time, her hand trailing along the walls like she was trying to memorize every inch.
"This is really happening," she breathed, turning to face me with tears in her eyes.
"This is really happening," I confirmed, pulling her into my arms. "The Healing Ground: A Center for Athletic Recovery and Resilience. Our dream, finally real."
It had been two years of hard work. I'd finished my bachelor's in psychology and was halfway through my master's program in sports psychology. Rosie had completed her business degree and gotten advanced certifications in Pilates, barre, and rehabilitation therapy.
We'd saved every penny from our jobs and from what my parents were giving us, applied for small-business loans,and spent countless hours planning every detail. And now, finally, we were standing in our own studio.
"I can't believe your parents co-signed the loan," Rosie said, looking around. "I thought they’d think we were crazy."
"They do think we're crazy. But they also believe in us, I think." I kissed her forehead. "Plus, I really do think they love you.”
“Doubt it,” I made a face before laughing. His parents were different from my family, but they did try to make me feel included, which mostly consisted of expensive gifts and inviting me to trips. Not that I complained.
"So," Rosie pulled back, her eyes sparkling. "Where do we start?"
"Here." I handed her a box wrapped in plain brown paper. "Open it."
