“It’s so cool you’re here, Juliette. It’s fun at baking classes but double fun at dance class.” I see her smiling wide in the mirror across the way. My face mimics hers.
I tickle her side, causing her to laugh out loud and for me to get a side-eye from some of the uppity moms. “Are you saying the dance studio is better than the bakery?”
“Yes,” she hiccups through her laughter. “My mom would love to be here too if she could. I think she’d like you.”
What?
Ah. What the hell do I say back to this?
Why can’t her mom be here?
Oh. My. God.I’m going to kill you, Harrison.
“Where is your mom, Claud?” I ask hesitantly.
She turns her head, smiling brightly. “She’s everywhere.”
Um, what?“Claudina, what does that mean?” I ask as she sits up quickly. “Claud?”
She shushes me and points. “Look, people are coming.”
My head is spinning a million ways, and there’s no doubt my thoughts would go down a rabbit hole if the door didn’t open to my worst nightmare.
My breathing picks up, and it feels impossible to let the breaths out of my chest that’s tightening at a hurried pace.
Claud turns toward me. “What’s wrong?” she mutters softly. “Jules?”
I swallow the large lump in my throat and fake a smile. “Nothing’s wrong, sugar plum.”
She narrows her eyes. “But you made a funny noise.”
“I know. I’m sorry,” I mumble, lost in hell.
I’ve never used so much restraint to hold back my emotions—my tears, anger, and, most of all, my vulnerability.
If I didn’t have this little angel to care for, I’d be running out the door.
Later…later, I’ll let all my feelings run wild.
Claud’s ballet instructor steps into the corner of the room and sweeps a hand behind her. “For the end of the season surprise, I welcome you, principal dancers from the New York City Ballet.”
Hunter and Annalise, my archenemies, step up and wave excitedly to the children. Behind them stand eight other dancers I’ve worked with for the majority of my career.
Besides Hunter, I haven’t seen anyone since, especially Annalise…my replacement.
Hunter falters when he spots me. His face drops with perplexity.
No. No. No.
“Hunter McMillon and Annalise DeCampo are partners who lead in—” The words begin to dissipate as I force myself to go somewhere else—reminding myself to breathe and that I’m fine.
It’s all fine.
Be strong for Claud. Don’t have a panic attack.
“Juliette.” Hunter’s voice is too soft, too familiar. “Are you okay?”
My eyes shoot open, not realizing I had squeezed them tightly shut.
