Page 62 of Truth and Temptation
“Actually, I think I’m gonna pass on the pub tonight,” I say, hoping it comes off casually enough that no one thinks about how out of character that is for me. I’m normally the life of the party.
“Understandable. You must be quite fatigued after today, I know I am. In fact, I would happily go straight home, but Wyatt wishes to have a beer with everyone, and I agreed to accompany him.” Paige squeezes my hand, and I flash her a grateful smile. She has her moments of being so in tune with me, and I love her for it.
“Yeah, I’m sorry to back out, but I’m exhausted, and I have to get to the studio early tomorrow to work on some stuff for the winter recital. And you know I don’t do mornings well.”
The white lie seems to satisfy Paige and Wyatt, and we make quick work of tidying up my booth and carrying things over to the studio. After waving goodbye to them, I lock up, then climb the stairs to my apartment. Living above my workplace is perfect for so many reasons, but my favourite is the 24/7 easy access to a dance space any time I need to work out some emotions.
Like tonight.
Which is why, after a quick shower and a change into a leotard and tights, I head back downstairs. I line up my favourite playlist for when I need to unwind and press play before heading to the barre. This is where I feel the most at peace with myself.
I have spent my entire life focused on dance. From taking ballet classes as a child, I went to a top-tier dance school and was hired as a professional ballerina. I always had the eventual plan of teaching once I retired. I just never expected retirement to be forced on me the way it was.
But I’ve come to terms with that and even managed to find a new way to love dance through teaching.
Now my studio is about to be taken away from me. If I don’t get enrollment up soon, I won’t be able to make the mortgage payments. As it is, I’m walking a thin line, not paying myself anything, every penny going back into the business. No one knows. Not my friends, not my mother, nobody.
Because the one thing I’ve learned from the many times things have gone wrong in my life is this: the worst part is the pity I inevitably see on other people’s faces.
That’s something I hoped would never follow me to Dogwood Cove.
Moving away from the barre, I change the music from my warmup song to something I know will let me push all of these negative emotions back into a box in my mind.
And an hour later, sweat trickling down the small of my back, I drop to the floor and lay spread eagle, breathing heavily. My mind is clear, my body is exhausted, and I know that as soon as I peel myself up off the floor and go take another shower, I’ll fall asleep easily. This peace, the quiet in my head, I only find this after dancing.
But when I eventually crawl underneath the covers of my bed, breathing in the lavender and spruce essential oils from my diffuser, one image and one name keep popping into my head.
A tall, handsome man holding an adorable little girl. A girl who isn’t mine.
Leo.
