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

Chapter 31

Aurora

It's already dark outside as I stroll along the wide hallway on the first floor of the academy. Like many days before, everything inside me resists being here, but I have no choice.

My life must go on. Our life must go on.

For three weeks now, the world has stood still. I took sick leave, hiding away at home, avoiding all calls from Sky and my siblings. Maxime only leaves the apartment to work and spends the rest of his time trying to please me.

I know he can't wait to dance with me again. He doesn't say it, but there's no room for breaks in our sport. The competition is fierce, and the pressure is even greater. If we want to dance at the World Championships one day, we have to keep going.

This unspoken truth hangs between us like a fog, barely letting any sunlight through. Instead of addressing it, he cooks Italian pasta recipes for me, fluffs my pillows, takes care of the laundry, and persuades me to take a stroll with him along the Seine at least once a day. Sometimes he tells me about the dance classes or his phone calls with his mother. She also knows nothing of our loss, just like my family. Maxime suggested that it should stay that way, and maybe it's even for the best.

The pressure on my chest increases steadily the closer I get to the dance studio, where Viennese waltz music wafts out onto the hallway. According to the schedule, the last training for today is currently underway.

I pull my woolen scarf over my face and lean against the wall at a safe distance from the studio door.

Already, it feels like tiny needles flow through my veins instead of blood. They burn along my arms and penetrate further into my heart, squeezing it painfully.

Last time, I gave in. I tried to be weak, and it brought me nothing.

So I know I have to fight against it today, and I know my mind is strong enough for it. I focus all my energy on what lies ahead and strive for steady breathing until the music fades and the third-year students vanish down the hallway.

I leave my hiding place and slip into the studio when absolute silence sets in. I dim the lights and put on my headphones.

With sweaty fingers, I start the music on my phone and close my eyes.

Be strong, Aurora. For Mamma.

The music begins, and immediately, I feel nauseous.

Fight against it.

I take the first dance step, then the second.

Tears escape from beneath my closed eyelids.

Keep going, Aurora, just keep going.

Arms stretched to the side, I initiate a turn. A sob overtakes me.

You can do this.

A sidestep follows, jagged and unrhythmic.

My stomach clenches.

Don't give in now.

All of a sudden, it's like a switch flips in my mind. Images of the French Championship flood me with a force that sends me crashing onto the dance floor.

I hear my own piercing screams.

See the blood. Everywhere.

The music falls silent. An unprecedented pain runs through me. The memory tears open my wound.

I hear Maxime's screams.

Arms slide beneath me.

Sad eyes.

You've lost your baby.

Cardiac arrest.

I am sorry.

I bellow out my pain, here and now, kneeling on the dance floor. Because I can't bear not being myself anymore.

I am not this weak. I want to dance, and I want to process the miscarriage. But I can't manage any of it.

My nose swells up; I cover my face with my hands and crouch on the cold floor.

"Aurora!"

Despite all precautions, I don't need to look to know who has discovered me.

"Sky." Exhausted, I wipe away these cursed tears from my cheeks.

As I try to pull myself up, she's already by my side. "I'll help you," she says. Too gentle. Too understanding.

"That's not necessary." Instinctively, I shake her off and immediately feel even worse than I already did. I sink back to the floor. "I have to handle this on my own."

Unfazed, she sits so close next to me that our shoulders touch. "You're going through a tough time," she says with a knowing tone that makes me sit up and listen. "Wounds can only heal if you give them enough time."

Swallowing hard, I turn my gaze to the mirror covering the entire wall.

"And some wounds never heal," Sky continues softly as if there's something that hurts her just as much at this moment as it does me.

"I'm fine," I reply firmly, more to make myself believe it than for Sky's sake. I look at both of us in the mirror. In the vastness of the room, we appear lost.

Moreover, I realize that Sky is looking at me. "I thought we had left lying behind us," she says.

I nibble on my lower lip until I taste blood. "I have to dance. So much depends on it."

She nods. "But forcing yourself with all your might won't help anyone. Especially not yourself."

She just doesn't understand. How could she, when her life as the daughter of wealthy parents has probably been easy from the start? "Dancing is all Maxime and I have left." My words are only a lifeless whisper. "If we lose that too..."

This time, she remains silent. She knows I'm right.

"I'll make it work; I just need to push myself hard enough." I clench my fists with determination.

"You can't control everything." Sky takes my hands and loosens my grip. "If you put pressure on yourself, it won't work."

Maybe that's true, but it doesn't change the facts. I take a deep breath. "Okay, I'll take it slow," I promise her just to appease her. "One dance step a day."

She looks at me skeptically. "I'm worried about you."

Quickly, I raise my hand. "I'll handle it. I'll be back to my old self soon enough."

Now it's her eyes that start to glisten with tears. "Sometimes we can't become who we were," she says meaningfully.

That sounds awful. Why is she telling me this now when I'm already at rock bottom?

"We have to grow with our fate and become someone new." A wistful smile plays on her lips.

What does she mean by that?

That I shouldn't dance anymore?

No. That's not possible.

Defiantly, I look at her. "I want this with all my heart." I won't give up on this dream. It's too significant.

"If you want it that badly, then you'll make it happen." She brushes a strand of hair from my face. "Give yourself some time. Allow yourself to let go of control and trust yourself a little more."

Thoughtfully, I nibble on my lower lip. Maybe in the past few weeks, I stopped believing in myself. I need to find that belief again. It's the beginning of everything.

"Okay." I wrap my arms around my best friend. "Thank you, Sky," I mumble into her hair.

We sit together on the floor of the dance studio for a while. Arm in arm, lost in our own thoughts. And for the first time, I feel a spark of hope inside me that one day, everything will be alright again.