Even during the audition week, I could tell from her fashionable outfits and accessories that her parents were probably well-off. But this is just on another level.
She laughs amusedly and then shows me my bathroom. We return to the room and start unpacking. More than once, I consider asking her about her obvious wealth, but every time I've attempted to learn more about her family, she's evaded thetopic. The only thing I know is that they live in Sweden. Nothing else. It seems to make her uncomfortable, so we'd rather chat about the exciting times that lie ahead for us. Galas, shows, television appearances, competitions—we're being trained for it all. Where will we end up in the end?
Half an hour later, my clothes are neatly stowed in the walk-in closet, and we can turn our attention to decorating the bare wall behind my bed. I've already attached the golden cord with the clothespins. Now, with awe, I pull out the metal box from my suitcase, where I've collected the greatest treasures of my life.
"What's that?" Sky leans curiously over the box.
I open the clasps and lift the lid. "Photos." It's actually so much more than that, but I can't put the significance of my treasure into words.
Carefully, I take the first one. It shows me in the garden behind our estate in Tuscany when I was five years old. I'm dancing joyfully with my mother. We have flowers in our hair, and the tall meadow behind us is dotted with red and blue.
As if Sky senses that it's better not to say anything, she watches as I gently run my index finger over the edge of the picture, then attach it to the cord with a white clothespin.
Numerous memories follow, and I feel more at home with each additional photo adorning the wall next to the bed.
Finally, I hang a picture of my very first competition. Enzo and I danced a fiery tango. Me in a bright red dress with my hair pulled back tightly, him with a half-open black shirt and wide pants.
"Too bad he didn't make it," Sky says.
I react with a nod. The guilt seizes me again. Just like everything else I felt during the audition week. Especially what Maxime triggered in me. It's unchanged within me. I haven't taken a single dance step without imagining he was by my side. And at night, I've dreamed of him.
Dreams of getting to know each other better. Dreams of dancing together. Dreams of him holding me close as I rest my head on his shoulder, hearing his heart beat. And dreams of finally lifting my chin and kissing him with a passion I've never felt for any other man before.
A sigh escapes my lips.
I can't wait to see him. Not just to find out if he'll evoke those feelings in me again but also because I desperately need an answer to one question.
Why did he dance the mambo with me?
I've endured six agonizing weeks of waiting, and now I need to know. Of course, I could ask him during our first dance class, but I'd much rather be alone with him when I do.
To see what happens.
With me.
With him.
With us.
It may be naive, but I still hope he's doing his endurance training at Parc des Buttes-Chaumont today.
I have to try. Once my suitcase is empty, I close it before placing it in the corner of the closet.
"I'm going to stretch my legs a bit," I say hastily as I rush to the door. "I'll be back in two hours at the latest, and then I'll cook spaghetti for us," I add quickly before Sky gets the idea to come along.
It would be nice to chat with her, but for what I have in mind, it's better to be alone.
"Okay," she says, raising her hand in surprise. "See you later."
I wave back and slip out the door. My heart beats so fast after just a few steps as if I've just finished a hundred-yard sprint, and it doesn't change until I arrive at the park. I immediately scan the numerous visitors around me. I wander along all the paths, passing the ponds, the bridges, and the wild, overgrown trellises,which exude the scent of lush greenery. I comb through every corner of the park, but I can't find him.
It's just past six in the evening.
Will he still come? Does he run every day? And if he does, does his route always lead him to this park?
After more than an hour of walking through the greenery, I sink down on a swing at one of the playgrounds. Two boys next to me are baking sand cakes and giggling. But no matter how adorable they are, my attention is solely on the people in the park.
Because I won't give up hope. He simplyhasto come.
