Page 20 of Worth the Fight

Magnolia

MARCH

“Une tarte au chocolat, s’il vous plaît.”

I smile at the cashier as I hand over my euros, taking the chocolate tarte from their outstretched hand. Delicate raspberries are arranged artfully in the center, and the edges are scalloped with a chocolate ganache that I know will be perfect.

This was Lukas’s favorite dessert when he visited me in France. We would walk to this patisserie almost daily, and I’d watch the way he’d stare at the tarte in his hand, eyes wide as he looked up at me like a little kid with a Christmas present.

I suppress the smile that’s begging to split my face. It’s been that way since my performance the other night. I can argue that some of it is still from the high of the performance. The lights, the set, my role, but dammit if some of my mood isn’t because of Lukas.

I take the short walk to Raymond and Ronaldo’s place with the dessert held tightly in my hands. When I reach their front stoop, I twist to knock with my elbow, and Ronaldo swings the door wide.

He smiles at me, and my eyes dip from his face to the gaudy apron that features a large baguette with the phrase Life is Pain written underneath.

I gesture to the pun. “I love that.”

He leans forward, placing a soft kiss on my cheek before inviting me in. He shuts the door tightly behind me, and I loosen my jacket, holding the tarte in one hand before I pass it off to him.

“What can I get you? Wine? Sparkling water?”

“Water’s fine, thanks.” I slip off my heeled boots by the front door just as a clamor comes from the kitchen. Ronaldo flinches, rolls his eyes, then pastes on a fake smile.

“I asked my husband for one thing, and for one thing only, and that was to leave me alone while I cook dinner.”

“I heard that!” Raymond calls from the other room.

Ronaldo leads the way through their small hallway and into the narrow yet spacious kitchen. Raymond stands on a small step ladder next to the fridge, the top cabinets open and a stack of pans at his side. “Where are my wine glasses?” he asks as we enter.

“Magnolia would like sparkling water.”

“Well then, she can have sparkling water out of a fancy wine glass,” he mocks.

Ronaldo rolls his eyes, moving to the upper cabinet that sits near the stove. He swings the door open and reaches in, pulling out a set of crystal wine glasses.

“Ah, there they are." Raymond steps down and reaches for the wine glasses and kisses his husband in a thank you.

“Magnolia, I know you asked for water, but I bought a special bottle of champagne for us tonight. We have a lot to celebrate.”

He hands me a glass before turning to open the fridge, pulling out a chilled pink bottle. “Oh?” My ears perk up at that. “What are we celebrating?”

Raymond and Ronaldo steal a glance at the other, and Ronaldo hands Raymond the bottle of champagne before racing over to an old oak desk that sits in the corner. He rifles through some papers before grabbing an envelope and sticking it behind his back, spinning to walk over to both of us.

“We have news,” he says, a smile exploding on his face.

Ronaldo pops the cork on the champagne, filling both of the glasses in front of us before reaching to grab a third from the cabinet.

Raymond waits until he’s done, then he looks up at him, as if waiting for him to be ready to continue. “Can I?”

The corner of Ronaldo’s mouth twitches as he places a loving hand on his husband’s shoulder. “Go on.”

Raymond practically tears through the envelope, his hands fumbling with excitement, and my mind races with all the possibilities.

They’ve been talking about leaving their apartment and looking for a home in one of the quieter parts of the city. I’d miss having them within walking distance, but they’ve been married for a few years now and are ready to grow their family.

Or maybe it’s about the ballet. Raymond hasn’t said he’s been applying to other ballets, but maybe he didn’t want to say anything until he secured an offer.

He pulls something from the envelope and holds it to his chest. “You know how Ronaldo and I have been trying to start a family.”