Epilogue

Two Years Later

Isit in the front row as Ania dances across the stage, her movements somehow more fluid and more practiced than when we first met. After we traveled for a year following our wedding, she came home and got to serious work. It wasn't as though the traveling was just for fun. She took every chance she could to visit every studio worldwide.

Once the show is over, I'm on my feet, cheering and clapping with a big grin on my face. The pride never gets any less intense. I could watch her perform a million times and still make my own hands numb with all the clapping.

After the show, I meet her in the hallway outside the dressing room. She skips out red-faced and excited like she always is after a performance. Throwing herself into my arms, I savor the feel of her against me. She's still petite, but I can feel how strong she is, feel the sinews of her ballerina muscles.

It was up and down at first, with relapses and obstacles, but Ania fought hard every step of the way. She sometimes says she owes it to me and couldn't have done it without me, but I'll never take the credit for that.

She hugs tightly to me, then stands on her tiptoes and whispers in my ear, "I'm ready."

Joy flurries in me, but I push it down for a moment. I know what she's talking about—children and a family.

"Ania …"

"No, I am," she says, and I can hear that she means it. "I want to be a mother. I want a family with you. I'm ready, Aiden!"

I lift her up, just like when she said yes to marrying me. Back then, I thought that was the happiest moment of my life. I'm learning something about being with my beautiful ballerina.

The happiest moments just keep coming.