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

Chapter 49

Aurora

The second hand slides past the twelve, and the minute hand silently moves to the forty.

I release all the air from my lungs, feeling empty.

Five minutes have passed since the appointed time. He won't be coming.

Inevitably, I glance toward the houses at the edge of the park. He could be over there, perhaps even standing by the window, looking at me.

Is he contemplating what's right and wrong? Or has he already decided that he can never trust me again?

Determinedly, I clench my fists and pace back and forth on the gravel path. Then I take out my phone again and unlock the screen. My finger hovers over Maxime's name.

Earlier, I was sure that calling him would be wrong. Because that would make me the one making decisions for him again.

But maybe this is different?

Where is the line? When do you have to let go? What is worth fighting for? And how persistent should one be?

Dammit, I don't know.

I press my lips together, put the phone back in my pocket, and lower my eyelids. My nose swells.

What now?

Do I even have another choice but to accept his decision?

My heart constricts painfully, unwilling to believe that this could be right.

"Maybe he really didn't receive the card," I say to myself. If that's the case, I shouldn't give up. Should I?

I turn away to set off, anywhere.

A split second later, I crash into a black wall. My nose presses into fabric, and warmth spreads on my forehead.

The scent of freshly roasted coffee fills the air.

The memory of our first encounter here in this park rushes through me, and everything inside me wants to believe that it's not a coincidence but rather a sign that it will happen again just like that.

That we can start anew. That we can make up for the years between then and now if we both desire it with every fiber of our bodies.

Swiftly, I wrap my arms around his back. "Maxime," I whisper hoarsely. "Thank you for coming."

Immediately, his muscles tense. A moment later, he pulls away.

I lift my eyelids and notice that he is wearing a smart shirt just like during our last encounter. Despite the dark circles around his eyes, he looks stunning. Our memory chest is tucked under his arm. "You forgot this," he says in a detached tone, holding it out to me.

So he kept it. What does that mean? Maybe nothing if he no longer wants it now.

Better not make any moves to take the chest back. "Can we talk?" I ask him, determined not to lose courage.

"Hasn't everything already been said?" he replies tonelessly and places the chest before me on the gravel path.

Far from it.

I smile at him again even though hope inside me is fading. "You may have said everything, but I haven't." As soon as the words leave my mouth, my pulse accelerates, and sweat forms in my palms.

If he agrees, I will do it.

I will show him that I don't know the way any better than he does. I will let him see how weak I am.

And I will reveal the whole truth to him. I want that, yet the thought makes me so nauseous that I have to hold one of the bicycles for support.

His expression remains blank.

For days, I've been thinking about how to show him that he can trust me before I confess everything to him. Because if he doesn't, he won't believe me. I had practiced how to persuade him to give me a few hours of his time, but every single word now seems to have vanished.

I fiddle with my fingernails, searching for the right beginning. "Do you remember what we dreamed of together?" I ask cautiously. This is the start of my plan, the beginning of something that will be more than just empty words he doesn't want to hear.

Again, his muscles tense. He exhales a strained breath, his gaze wandering to the park landscape behind me.

I raise my hand, wanting to place it on his chest, but I immediately let it fall again. "There was so much we wanted to experience together. We wanted to dance and live, and in every second, we carried the hope that it would be just like that."

I look at him expectantly. His eyes become sad.

"This life isn't lost," I continue with a hoarse voice, uncertain how much fighting spirit is appropriate now. Because the way Maxime crosses his arms in front of his chest, I'm not sure.

"That's not what this is about," he spits out. "And even if you could bring it back, it wouldn't change anything."

I lower my gaze to our memory chest. "Yes, I can," I reply. "Just give me this one day, and I will prove it to you."

Was that right? Or should I have admitted that I don't know if I can do it? That my biggest fear is that this will fail, but I still want to try?

A weary snort escapes his lips. "What will that accomplish?"

I reach out my hand toward him. "Just trust me this one last time."

"Trust?" He spits the word out with disgust, anger, and resistance in his gaze. "You don't even know what that means."

I deserve that, yet I can't let it pass like that. I want to grab his hand, but I hold back. "It's your decision," I say with a pounding heart.

He looks at me as if frozen in place. For seconds that feel like an eternity, the world seems to stand still, and I can only guess at the storm raging within him. Does he understand the true meaning behind my words?

I wait and hope. Nothing more.

He has the control.

I don't nod in encouragement, keeping my fingers still and my legs the same. Nothing has ever been so difficult for me.

"There's nothing you could do," he says finally, burying his hands in the pockets of his jeans.

We loved each other so endlessly, and I, for one, still feel that love. Does he really have no more feelings for me?

Wistfully, I pucker my lips into a smile. "What if I do?" It feels strange to show my insecurity. But at the same time, something about it is liberating.

"Just this one day, that's all I want," I take a deep breath. If he denies it again now, I'll accept it.

He shakes his head, his expression revealing an inner conflict that he can barely handle.

It takes what feels like half an eternity, then he glances at his wristwatch. "I'll give you three hours, and that's only on one condition. Afterward, you leave me in peace for good," he says with a hoarse voice.