Chapter 32

Thirty-Two

SARA

The moment Jentold me Josh had left, my heart was permanently scarred. That day, Jen and I walked the track for hours, stopping often when I broke down into inconsolable sobs. She explained how she and Josh had grown closer since the accident. Their mutual concern for my wellbeing helped them cope with losing me to depression. They would have lunch at least once a week to catch up on things and talk about how I was doing.

The week prior to me finding out he’d left, she’d gone over to his house to pick him up as usual, but his mom answered the door. She told her Josh had left the night before. His mom hadn’t known either until she found the note he’d left her, telling her how he needed to get out of town for a while and not to look for him. It wasn’t until years later when, through his sister, Jen learned he’d been living in Africa, freelancing as a wildlife photographer. Happily, it seemed.

At the time, though, no one knew what happened to him. The idea that he would leave me at the lowest part in my life without even saying goodbye put me through a meat grinder.

“Sara,” Jen had said, “maybe he didn’t want to hurt you anymore. You were already in so much grief.”

“So, I’m dying inside because of the loss of my mother and the best decision he makes is to leave me in all this mess—because that’s better than actually talking to me about it?”

“Sweetie, he’s been hurting too. We all have.”

I said nothing.

“He tried talking to you. He visited you practically every day—stood by your side while you slept twenty-four hours a day.”

“Then he should have told me it was too much for him.”

“Maybe saying goodbye was hard for him.”

“He didn’t even leave me a note, Jen.”

“Look, I’m not trying to defend him. He should have at least said something to you. But you weren’t the only one he left in the dark. His mom. Me. We all felt betrayed.”

“I’m so stupid.”

“Why do you say that?”

“Because love is supposed to transcend everything. Because if there was anything I still believed in, anything that still gave me a little hope, even in my self-induced sleep-coma, was the fact someone still loved me, that maybe not everything was lost.

“You do have people who still love you. What about me?”

“I know, Jen. You’ve always been my constant. But Josh? He was supposed to be my soulmate. He was supposed to be my happily ever after, ’til the day we died. We promised it to each other. I believed every word. We were going to get married one day, have children…”

Jen reached for me and hugged me tight as the tears spilled from my eyes again. “I’m so sorry, hon. I know it hurts. I wish you didn’t have to go through this.”

I pulled away from her. “I don’t know how I’m going to go on. Without my mom. Without Megan, and now…him?

“Together. I’m still here, remember?”

It was shortly after that day when I decided to move out of my house and in with Jen in the city.

Now, even after all this time, my past was showing its ugly head again. Alexei was making me doubt my choices. Tom was making me want to be in love again.

Dear Lord…

A storm was definitely coming. I just prayed I could survive it.

* * *

Trying to get work done while being an emotional mess was nearly impossible. The last thing I needed was to get another speech from those assholes. If I was to leave that place, it was going to be on my terms.

By the end of the day, I was burnt out. I could have stuck needles in my eyes and it would have been less painful than sifting through hundreds of applications. At last, I found a couple of really great dancers who somehow had slipped through the cracks the first time I reviewed their portfolios.

I scheduled them for auditions then zombie walked out of my office.

Finding my apartment absent of my best friend was a relief. Jen didn’t need to see me that way. She’d want to comfort me with hugs and ice cream. All I wanted was to be alone.

Skiddles snored away while I lay flat on my bed staring at the ceiling. It had been an hour and my mind wouldn’t stop racing. Putting away my clothes and rearranging my closet seemed like a good idea to help keep my mind occupied and away from clouded thoughts. As I reached above my head to retrieve a box of shoes, another much bigger box, slightly tucked behind more clutter, slipped, fell, and bounced off my head before flopping to the floor.

“Shit!” I rubbed the sore spot on my forehead. Organization was not my forte. My stomach lurched when I finally realized what had fallen out of the box. Scattered by my feet were a few articles of clothing I had forgotten still lingered in my closet.

I thought I’d thrown everything out.

Still folded neatly in between random clothes was my favorite pair of knit, purple leg-warmers my mother had given me on my eighteenth birthday. There was also a pair of sling-back half socks, a pair of worn, footless black tights, a nude camisole leotard, and a pink wrap-sweater.

My breath caught in my throat and my heart stopped. I braced myself for what I thought would be another sting to my soul. It should have been like pouring salt into a wound, instead, a soft smile crept to the corners of my mouth. A warm feeling enveloped me, and I stripped off my clothes and suited up. All of it still fit like it did years ago, the fabric soft against my skin.

My eyes widened as I stared in the mirror. I looked like a dancer. My face glowed and my heart leaped. The joy was short-lived. As I regarded myself intently, reality hit. I wasn’t a dancer. Not anymore. Not for a long time. What I saw reflected was only a shadow of who I had been and the life I had left behind.

Putting this on was a mistake.

My joy quickly turned to pain, and it dropped me to my knees. The dam inside me broke, and all the sorrow I’d tried to conceal all these years poured out of me without cease. Minutes ticked by, or maybe hours, it didn’t matter. My life caved again. I no longer wanted to be alone. All I needed was to be held by someone. I needed someone to tell me it was all going to be okay. That the pain wasn’t going to kill me. That I was going to make it through another day.

In between my muffled cries, I heard Jen’s soft voice whisper my name, “Sara?”

I couldn’t say anything. My hands cradled my sunken face, collecting puddles of hot tears. When I didn’t answer, she rushed to my side and knelt beside me, pulling my face up to look at her, tears rolling down the side of my cheeks.

“Oh, honey, what’s the matter? What happened?” She searched my eyes for some indication of what occurred. “Sara, why are you crying?”

“Jen…” I struggled to say her name.

“Sara, please. What happened? Why are you dressed like this?” She continued to look at me, trying to understand why I was dressed in my old warmups, crouched on the floor crying hysterically.

“I…I miss her,” I moaned. And it was all it took to send me over the edge. I latched onto her in a powerful embrace and cried into her shoulder. “Oh, God, Jen. My mom. I miss her so much.”

“Hey, it’s all right, sweetie.” She hugged me tight. “It’s gonna be all right.” She held me there, letting me cry until, at last, the waters receded.

Soon after, she had me on the couch drinking a cup of sleepy-time tea.

“No ice cream?”

“I don’t think ice cream is going to help this time.” She sat next to me, pulling her feet under her legs. “You want to tell me what this is all about?”

“I wasn’t ready for all this.”

“Tom?”

“I’m falling head over heels for this man. After everything that happened, I really thought happiness was not for me. I really thought I was okay with it. Until…now. I can’t imagine not having him, and it scares me to think I could lose it all again.”

“It’s not everything that’s bothering you.” She looked me in the eyes, knowing full well I was hiding something from her. Jen always knew the issues with my mother’s death went deeper than I let anyone know, but she never pressed. This time, I feared she wouldn’t back down.

“Jen, it’s complicated.”

“I’m tired of you brushing me off. What is really eating you up?”

“Guilt,” I barked.

“We’ve talked about this before, hon. We all experience it one way or another when a loved one passes.”

“No, Jen. The guilt I’ve been carrying goes deeper.”

“Tell me.”

“I squandered my life, all right?” I placed my cup on the coffee table as I prepared to empty out my cluster of regrets. “Everything she fought for me to have. I know if she knew what I’ve done, she’d be so disappointed in me.” I choked and my eyes began to tear up again. “For what?” I continued. “What did I gain from it? I’ve been punishing myself, all for nothing. Now? I can’t go on living like this anymore. I want Tom in my life. And…”

“And what?”

“I think I want to dance again, Jen.” I lowered my head, ashamed of what I was feeling. “I don’t think I’m strong enough to stave it off. I’m so angry with myself. This is not how it’s supposed to be.”

“And just how is it supposed to be? Are you supposed to spend the rest of your life locked up in your room alone? With no one and nothing to bring the light back into your eyes?”

I angrily wiped the wetness from my cheeks. “I swore to myself I’d never set a foot on a stage again. Am I just supposed to forget that?”

Jen scooted closer and wiped my tears. “Why would you even think you had to make such a promise?”

“I swore it to her. My mom. It was all I could do. The only thing I had.”

“Why, hon? You think that’s what she would have wanted? Her death wasn’t your fault. What’s done is done. And it’s over. Your mother died almost four years ago. You have to stop this self-loathing. Your mother wouldn’t want the life you’ve chosen for yourself. She loved you too much. And now you need to make things right.”

“How do I get rid of this guilt?”

“What would she tell you to do?”

I paused to think. My mom’s face slowly shone through the storm clouds of my desperation. Her brilliant smile and glowing eyes embraced me with all her love. I looked up at Jen, and with a quivering smile, I said, “She’d tell me to dance it off.”

“Well, hon, maybe it’s time you listened to her again.”

* * *

The next morning, I trotted to work ready to embark on my journey to become a new woman, determined to make things right. Auditions went perfect. Thought I might have hit a goldmine actually. Alexei would be a happy man. If the words Alexei and happy could coexist in the same sentence.

Catarina Dimitelos and Francesco Bernardino. She was a Greek Goddess and he an Italian sculpture. Their dancing skills were impeccable and they looked fabulous together, as if they were simply made to be dance partners. It was a match made in heaven. My work was done.

Two hours later, Rebecca tapped on my door, forcing me to lookup from my computer screen.

“You did it.” There was an incredulous tone to her voice, the words tasting of venom.

“I take it Alexei approved?” I asked.

“We did. Although, we weren’t as impressed. Nevertheless, they should do.”

Arrogant asses.

“They will make a great addition to the company,” I added.

“Oh, dear, that’s yet to be seen. They need to survive Alexei’s boot camp before we make such claims. And I asked for four dancers.”

“Be glad you got two. We will need to go on without understudies and pray nothing else goes wrong.”

She stared at me in silence, trying to come up with some vile retort. Apparently, nothing came to mind.

“Was there anything else, Rebecca?”

“I assume you are already working on all other details?”

I lifted my gaze off my computer and looked up at her, expressionless.

“I never doubted you,” she said through a forced smile.

“There never was a need to,” I spat.

She turned and walked away.

After all the dancers and staff left, I stalked to the dark, empty studio. It was late, and the crew tried not to linger past closing unless it was crunch time. Tonight, the expansive space was quiet, and thankfully, all mine. I flicked on the lights. The walls were lined with floor to ceiling mirrors and the hardwood floors gleamed from a recent wax.

I couldn’t believe I was actually going through with this. I took a few deep breaths before entering the studio. I paced a hundred times before finally making up my mind. Eventually, I placed my shoulder bag down on an empty chair and slowly took out its contents. I held them in my hands, trembling with fear.

You can do this.

Two minutes later, I stood in front of the wall of mirrors, dressed in clothes that should have felt foreign to me, but now felt as familiar as my own flesh and blood.

I’d been reborn.

This time, to dance again.