“He’s probably having a heart attack,” Harry mutters to Collette, ruining the moment.
“What?” Collette shrieks and starts to cry.
“Harry,” Harrison snaps. “Shut your mouth. Jesus, I’m not having a fucking heart attack.”
“Bad word,” Collette mumbles.
Harrison turns toward the back row to take Collette’s hand from me. “I’m sorry, sweetheart,” he croons while his eyes shoot daggers at Harrison Jr.
Harry is eleven going on twenty-one, and he’s trying our patience every step of the way. Harrison and he butt heads over everything.
Harry might look like me, but he and his dad are the same person. Meanwhile, Collette, our seven-year-old, and youngest Vivienne, who is four and not here today, are me to a tee.
“Okay, both of you, stop. Today is about Claudina, and when you’re older, Harry, you’ll understand what a big deal this is,” I say and start crying again.
I’m so emotional today.
It could also be because I’m seven months pregnant with our second boy or because my sugar plum made it big time, and I couldn’t be prouder of her if I tried.
Today is Claudina’s eighteenth birthday, which, in itself, has me losing it…how is she eighteen? But most importantly, today is her debut performance with The Paris Opera Ballet.
I can’t even freaking believe it.
It’s the most challenging ballet to get accepted into, so we all had doubts.
Not that she didn’t deserve it. Claudina is better than I ever was.
However, she was up against the best in the world, and they were only accepting one male and two female ballet dancers this year.
When she was younger, we rented a summer house here in France so she could attend the kid’s summer program. After that, she was accepted to audition for the school program, so naturally, she begged us to send her to the dance school in Paris during her high school years.
Harrison, Seb, Leo, and Nate flipped out and said no without consulting me. But now, they have me to answer to, and although I knew I would miss her terribly, I also understood that this was her chance to make it for herself.
And no serious dancer turns down Paris. They just don’t.
Luckily, my cousins all live in Paris now and hosted Claud during her stay, which eased the guys' anxiety since she was staying with family.
“We’re here,mon petit papillon.” Harrison grabs my attention.
I look out the window, and I can’t believe it.
I turn back to the third row and look at Colette and Harry, dressed in their little tuxedo and gown. “Are you two ready to watch your big sister shine brighter than all the stars in the sky?”
They both nod excitedly—even Harry.
Harrison helps me out of the car, straightens his velvet bow tie, then fixes my stunning custom gown while I stare up at The Palais Garnier.
I reach aimlessly for Harrison’s hand, and we stand there, taking in the magnitude of it all.
It doesn’t matter that I lived this life years before. It still has that overwhelming effect, and this…this is Paris.
“I love you, Harrison.” I look over at my gorgeous husband, who hasn’t aged a day besides his graying hair.
Harrison Davenport is still pure perfection.
His eyes hold mine, and if he said no words, that would be okay; I can see all the love in the world through them.
They’ve always spoken to me.
