Erina was an angel.
The lights flickered—time for the show.
“You are dangerously close to having me confess undying love for you,” Teddy whispered as they headed up the balcony stairs to their seats.
Finn beamed, still holding Teddy’s arm.
“Although, boyfriend?” That was a word they hadn’t used yet.
“After everything it took us to get here, I figured I’d earned that,” Finn said. His bashful fumbling was adorable, but Teddy loved his confident, capable side too.
“If you hadn’t before, taking down Stewart Hartley like that definitely pushed you over the edge.”
After all, Teddy needed a win now more than ever with the show about to start. He just hoped he didn’t hate being on the outside looking in as much as he feared.
“Is that Frankie?” Finn said after they’d been led to their seats, with Finn on the end, then Teddy, his mother, and finally Rick and Dan.
Indeed, Frankie and her parents were across the theater in the opposite balcony. Teddy smiled as she waved at them, looking lovely in a magenta dress—and making him wonder if her entire room was that deep pink color. He hadn’t seen her come in and had worried they weren’t able to make it.
“Did you…?” Finn trailed off.
“Never been to a real ballet, she said. Securing extra tickets wasn’t difficult.”
“But plane tickets? Hotel? Her parents have had a lot of expenses lately after the accident.”
Teddy shrugged. “I had frequent flier miles and hotel points to spare. Just like Erina, apparently.”
Finn looked away with a light chuckle. “Here I was coming to help make it a good night for you, and you’re still surprising me.”
The lights started to come down, Laverne gently squeezing Teddy’s arm as she settled into her seat, not eavesdropping but giving that subtle sign that she liked Finn.
Lowering his voice to a whisper anyway, Teddy said, “I’m sure there will be plenty of opportunities for you to surprise me back.”
“Well,” Finn answered playfully, “Erina didn’t get me a separate hotel room.”
The heat that flooded Teddy’s stomach definitely helped his remaining nerves. Even if watching the ballet proved miserable, he had something to look forward to.
Of course, he couldn’t call any of the show miserable.Don Quixotewas one of the best and most well-known ballets for a reason—it was breathtaking, and Erina most of all, even if he was biased thinking that.
She floated, entrancing in every step, conveying emotion in her face and her body that moved Teddy more than he was prepared for, combined with the emotions stirring in him over how much he missed this. How what every dancer on that stage could execute so beautifully he would never experience again.
Teddy didn’t notice the wetness on his cheeks until he felt Finn’s hand slip into his. He looked down at their fingers entwining and couldn’t help feeling guilty for being so torn up over what he’d lost when he knew how much more Finn had lost. Still, the camaraderie in Finn’s expression, letting some of his own sorrow through to let Teddy know—I understand—alleviated the heaviness of his heartache.
Teddy would never again experience what he once had, but there were new things he might not have opened himself up to if he hadn’t first known loss.
Act I culminated in an eruption of applause. The show had two twenty-minute intermissions. Teddy would have preferred to stay in his seat for this one, given the dampness in his eyes, but Dan and Rick slipped away to chat with other theater contacts, and he couldn’t simply sit there when Frankie waved at them once more and dashed out for the lobby.
“I think we’re being summoned. Be right back, Mother.”
With Finn as his shield, Teddy hoped Hartley would keep his distance, but he still pulled Finn into a corner of the balcony to ask if his eyes looked too obviously red or puffy before traipsing down the stairs.
“You look gorgeous.”
“That isn’t what I asked.”
“It’s the only answer I got,” Finn asserted, reaching up to hold Teddy’s face tenderly. “Don’t worry, no one will be able to tell. If the other acts are this difficult for you, just think about the after-party we’re going to have.” He leaned in to whisper those last words, and his lips brushed the shell of Teddy’s ear.
That helped the tears but didn’t bode well for future problems.
