The Dance We Remember (Love and Other Dreams #4)

Chapter 23

Aurora

Leaning against the entrance to my walk-in closet, Sky shakes her head. "I mean, I was prepared for a lot, but this? Never in a million years."

I can't help but grin. Not only because her shocked expression is incredibly amusing but also because I feel free for the first time since being with Maxime.

Finally, I don't have to lie to her anymore. We don't have to lie to anyone. Maxime and I are officially a couple. A pregnant couple.

I still don't know what to make of it. Too many conflicting emotions overwhelm me, and countless questions remain unanswered. Maxime's positive reaction helps me feel better about it. But will his idea of merging dance and family actually work?

What if one day I have to make a choice? Which dream will outweigh the other?

"I must admit, I'm a bit disappointed," Sky interjects, pulling me out of my thoughts.

"You understand why I couldn't tell you, right?" I ask, feeling guilty. Our friendship is too important to me for something like this to come between us.

She taps her chin with her index finger. "I wouldn't have done it any differently." Her azure blue eyes scrutinize me. "You two are head over heels for each other, aren't you?"

"It was love at first dance." I pull the wine-red sweater out of the compartment.

"Sigh," Sky says gloomily. "Love..." There's a hint of sadness in her voice, and her shoulders slump.

"Yes, love. And it will find you too," I quickly say because that's just a matter of time. Sky isn't just incredibly beautiful but also the most generous and kindest person I know. Why she's still single is a mystery to me.

She fiddles with the hem of her long-sleeved shirt. "Mm-hmm," she murmurs.

I hurry to her side to give her a hug. "Sometimes it takes a little while for the right one to come along."

She's only twenty, and spending so much time training probably doesn't help her meet someone.

She nods against my shoulder. "It's not that important."

The doorbell rings. I can practically feel myself glowing from within. "He's here."

"Well then, we shouldn't keep him waiting." Her sadness seems to vanish instantly, and she grins mischievously at me. "I can't wait to see with my own eyes what you've been hiding from me."

Laughing, we rush to the door, where Maxime stands with a single red rose.

She's perfect. And so is he.

Despite my perpetual fatigue, I feel light as a feather as I snuggle in his arms. "I missed you so much," I murmur into his jacket, which smells wonderfully of him.

His laughter makes his chest vibrate softly. "We were apart for an incredibly long time."

A whole five hours! With a grin, I pull away from him. He hands me the flower, the color of which probably transfers onto my cheeks now.

"That's just disgusting," Sky says lovingly.

"I'll just put them in some water, then we can go," I say to Maxime, giving him a meaningful wink.

For Sky's sake, I try to maintain a composed expression as I turn around to look for a vase in the kitchen.

She doesn't let me pass. "I'll do that," she says with that warm expression that makes her so special and takes the rose from me.

I thank her, put on my jacket and shoes, and step into the hallway. "See you later," I call out to Sky, and then we set off.

Hand in hand, we stroll visibly through the late autumn streets of Paris. Our destination is the Marché aux Puces, the oldest flea market in the city. We take Metro Line 4 and immerse ourselves in the hustle and bustle upon arrival.

"Care to tell me what we're looking for here?" Maxime asks as I stop at a stand with small antique furniture.

My gaze wanders over bronze statues, velvet-covered stools with bear paws as legs, and dark-stained dressers with beautifully weathered hardware.

"We need something very special," I murmur absentmindedly, slipping past a young woman with a stroller to the table displaying smaller artworks.

Maxime follows. "Something very special, huh? And for what purpose?"

There! I tilt my head to peer over the blond woman standing in front of the table. "Excuse me," I politely say in French, prompting her to step aside. Only when she turns to face me do I recognize that it's Alice from the academy.

For a moment, I feel caught, but I quickly realize that there's no need for that. Smiling, I raise my hand. "Hey."

With narrowed eyes, she lets her gaze wander back and forth between Maxime and me. "Ah, our dream couple. How lovely." Her tone sends a chill down my spine. "As much as I'd love to chat, I don't have the time," she adds before Maxime or I can react, and turns on her heels.

Frowning, I watch her leave. "What was that about?"

"No idea." He squeezes my hand. "Let's ignore her."

"Maybe she's just having a bad day." With those words, I shift my focus to the table with the artwork. We shouldn't let Alice ruin our day, yet I can hardly shake off the memory of her accusatory expression.

It doesn't take long before I spot something. "Aren't these wonderful?" I point at the miniature Baroque-style chests of drawers.

He's instantly beside me, examining the collection with enthusiasm. "Very pretty." He reaches for a black version adorned with golden stucco and pulls open the top of the ten drawers. "Is this for jewelry?"

Normally, yes, but I have a much better use in mind. "It's for our memories."

A knowing expression flickers across his face. "So this is the mysterious memory box?"

I lean in closer to him. "You haven't forgotten."

"With the secrecy you made of it in Giverny? Never." He puts the miniature chest back on the table and shrugs. "So what's it all about?"

His cluelessness is so endearing that I simply have to kiss him. I relish being able to do this here, in the midst of the bustling crowd.

"Do you remember what we promised each other on the rooftop terrace after the tournament in Bordeaux?" I ask, my heart pounding.

He returns my smile and wraps his arms around me. "We'll dance. And we'll live."

"Surely you remember the photos I took of our outings?" I raise an eyebrow.

He nods and sways us gently as if we were dancing to slow music.

"And the little things I collected?" I add with excitement. "The water lily leaves, the sand from the Atlantic coast, and the tiny cheese knife?"

All he does is smile at me. That's all it takes for me to suddenly feel as if we're completely alone on this flea market. I can no longer hear the loud conversations of the other visitors, and I no longer feel the constant stream of people passing by.

"They are more valuable than any jewelry in the world." They are our moments. Experiences that we will look back on together when we're old. "Everything we experience together, we'll gather in this box."

He gently kisses my forehead. "That sounds wonderful."

"Every adventure we dream of, we'll make come true. And we'll keep it in this box." I look at him meaningfully, then I reach for the miniature chest he had in his hands before. "Each of these drawers represents a year together." Carefully, I open the top compartment. It's still empty. "Soon, we'll place an ultrasound image in this drawer."

I involuntarily swallow. I feel ashamed that the pregnancy stirs up this internal conflict within me. I should be overjoyed, but a part of me doesn't know if I truly want the baby.

This thought is horrifying, yet I confront it every day. Only by facing it can I overcome it.

"And the hairpin you'll wear at the French Championship," Maxime adds, his voice choked.

Yes, that too. "We should dance our mambo right in the heart of Paris." Originally, we planned to do that once the academy was behind us, but there's no need to wait any longer.

"Before the eyes of the whole world," Maxime adds, sounding melancholic.

Wait. We've had this conversation before. I sigh longingly and let myself drift into the memory. "Barefoot in a summer rain," I say it again, just as I did that evening.

Maxime's grin tells me that he hasn't forgotten his lines from that night either. "At a concert by Joshua Friedberg," he replies, knowing exactly what to say.

Yes, that's how it's meant to be. This idea is too perfect not to make it come true exactly as we dreamed it.

Quickly, I fish my phone out of my purse, open the browser, and visit Joshua Friedberg's website. It takes a few seconds to find what I'm looking for. Next year in August, he'll be playing an open-air concert under the Eiffel Tower.

It couldn't be more perfect.

Beaming with joy, I tap on the second drawer. "This memory goes in there," I say, filled with a kind of bliss I've never felt before.