With such extensive damage, it would have been impossible to rebuild the theater in enough time to finish the season. But Alek had done it. He’d pulled every string he could, hired the best companies in addition to his own, and he’d rebuilt the place I loved all so that I could be here, ready to bask in the glow of the stage.
The air smelled of chalked silk shoes, roses, and something else. Something electric.
Anticipation.
The music swelled, filling every corner of the theater. I walked over to the funeral pyre, preparing to dance the final pas de deux, one made not of shared moves, but a back and forth of dances as Romeo and I greeted our deaths. I settled as the curtains were pulled backward, revealing a grieving Raphael and me. And then our bodies moved before our minds could catch up, and we danced together.
My feet barely touched the stage as I stood atop my Romeo, who clutched a bottle of the fatal poison in his white-knuckled fist. The choreography lived in my muscles, but the emotion—thatcame from somewhere deeper.
Romeo and Juliet. Love and loss. Devotion written in blood and sacrifice. I’d felt it all over the past few months. Yet here I was, dancing.
Not just with Raphael, but with every scar I carried. With the marred flesh of the bullet wound on my shoulder. With the memory of fire and smoke that still sometimes haunted me in the night—and the way Alek had carried me out of hell without hesitation. With the certainty that I was alive in a way I never had been before.
I danced with a love that had survived it all. A love that chose each other every day.
I poured that love out through my body, hoping the audience saw it as Juliet’s love for Romeo. But I knew the truth:
It was for Alek.
I spun around, and my gaze flicked instinctively to the wings, where Madame Germaine stood beyond the curtain. Her hands were clasped tightly in front of her, her sharp eyes following every movement. When our eyes met, her severe expression softened into something rare and radiant.
Pride.
The director’s lips curved in a small, approving smile. I was her Juliet, and I was doing well. My throat tightened before I turned away.
And then, my eyes foundthem.
They were in the private box to the right, so close to the stage that I could almost make out their smiles in the stage lights.
I spotted Nikolai first, his attention flicking across the room. Jules was next to him, his jaw tight, his attention fixed on the stage. He watched me, but sometimes his eyes darted to the curtains as if trying to spot someone else. There was something protective and fierce in his posture that almost made me chuckle. Alek looked at me like that.
Jules had begrudgingly accepted my relationship with Alek. He didn’t like it at all, and he made that clear often, but he didn’t try to stop me from seeing him. Sometimes, he even agreed to have dinner all together, though I limited how often I asked that for everyone’s sanity.
They had learned, the two of them—learned that loving me meant not tearing each other apart.
I was still trying to figure out a way to tell my brother that I wasn’t renewing the lease on my apartment because Alek had asked me to move in with him after the show. I’d said yes, of course, but Jules?
Jules would be enraged.
And then he would get over it because he loved me.
Besides, based on Elsie’s confirmation that she was still planning to retire after this show and the little sparkle she got in her eyes when I asked her if she still wanted to open her bakery, I had a feeling that my brother had bigger things to worry about soon.
And at the other end of the balcony, his body partially hidden by the shadows, sat the love of my life.
My gaze kept falling to him as I moved through the pas de deux, and though Alek’s expression was ice-calm, I knew his eyes were shining with pride as he watched me. I knew the way his shoulders softened when I landed a difficult turn. I knew his body followed mine like gravity. I knew the way his eyes darkened with silent obsession. And suddenly, my heart felt too full for my body.
The music slowed, sorrow threading through the notes, a foreshadowing of the darkness to come. But at that moment, I felt only lightness surrounding me. Lightness and love and all of the emotions I’d been searching for as I settled into the final pose.
For half a breath, there was silence.
Then, the theater erupted. Applause thundered through the hall, rising like a wave, crashing over the stage. Flowers rained down at our feet. Bravos echoed from every direction.
I felt every joyous noise as I held my stance, lying atop Raphael, my body collapsed with sorrow. I let the heady feeling settle into me before raising my head and looking back at the box.
Alek stood, a small smile on his face as he clapped for me just like he did months ago. I pressed a hand to my chest, emotion overwhelming me as I took a final bow.
Because for the first time,myvoice—not Alek’s—silently whispered, “Perfect.”
