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

Chapter 43

Aurora

I sprint through the night.

My heart pounds hard against my chest, sweat trickles down my temples and drips from my jaw. Moisture collects under my glasses.

Over and over again, scenes from the past flare up in my mind. Maxime appears in every single one.

It shouldn't hurt so much. After all, I had already lost him and was prepared to live with the loss. That he left for good a few hours ago makes no difference.

I exhale and pick up the pace. Running has always helped me feel strong. But today, it doesn't. The memories that I usually stand to so unyieldingly roll over me like a ten-yard wave.

I am helplessly at the mercy of the force.

In my thoughts, I stand once again at the apartment door at 24 Rue Lisle, a travel bag over my shoulder and a waist-high suitcase next to my legs.

I gently place my hand on the top, trace the corners with my thumb, and open the top drawer. Countless pictures and mementos spill out. Our whole life together is in this casket.

Moments full of happiness.

The heart-shaped shell I found on the beach at La Baule. The bus ticket to Giverny. A picture of Maxime and me at our first tournament.

I reach for the selfie of the two of us with the dolphins in the background that we spotted on the way to the ?les Chausey.

We look relieved. Hopeful.

I'd like to take the picture with me, but having it with me would make everything even harder.

As I put the photo back, I spot the fiery-red hair clip I wore to the championship. Some of the glitter dust sticks to the bottom of the drawer and the miniature pine cone that was supposed to remind us of the sunrise hike in the Rambouillet forest.

I wander to the kitchen table and grab a notepad and pen. I stare at the white paper for minutes. I would like to explain everything to him, but that would be selfish. It would only help me get rid of my burden, but it would destroy him.

I'm sorry , I finally write, and at the same moment, a tear escapes from the corner of my eye.

I realize that this message is not enough. And what I am doing today will be hell for him, as well. But this hell will pass. The one we would have together never would.

On the street two stories below me, a car door is slammed. I plod to the tilted window.

"Well, sleep tight," someone says in a sarcastic tone.

A split second later, I realize that this someone is Maxime.

He's back.

I quickly put my message in one of the drawers of our memory box, turn off all the lights, and grab my belongings. I put the key in one of the drawers of the wardrobe, then open the apartment door.

Maxime's footsteps echo through the stairwell.

My heart pounds. I pull the door shut and run to the stairs with my luggage.

His head appears on the first floor.

My stomach clenches. I press my lips together and scurry up the stairs to the third floor. Once there, I lean over the railing, breathing heavily, and look down.

There he is.

He enters the hallway and walks toward the apartment.

Jesus.

"Aurora," he calls out a little later. Then again. Over and over, he calls for me, panic spreading through his voice.

I'm here , I would like to reply and rush to his apartment. Instead, I bite my tongue. Never in my life has it been so important to show strength.

"This can't be happening." His powerless voice is barely audible in the distance, yet a shiver runs down my spine.

Just then he realized it.

I sink to my knees and bury my face in my hands. There is only one thought I can hold on to now.

Soon everything will be easier. For Maxime, too.

The apartment door slams shut with a bang. Nevertheless, I don't allow myself to sob.

Then as now, I had tears streaming down my cheeks. I never thought that this wound in both of us would not heal, and long enough I managed to convince myself that everything would be all right in the end. But today, when Maxime hurled his truth in my face, I realized that nothing is okay at all.

Not for me. And even less for him.

I have no idea where I'm actually running and for what. Nevertheless, I sprint down the street, whimpering desperately. I dive into the bright cone of light of a lantern, only to disappear again into the darkness a few seconds later.

Every storm comes to an end one day.

I was convinced of that. I thought the storm was the hopeless situation I had maneuvered Maxime and myself into. I thought the separation would be painful, but it would be the only thing to save him.

Tonight, I realized how wrong I was.

The storm we would have had to endure was a completely different one.