Chapter 44

Forty-Four

SARA

Back in his apartment,Tom changed into dry sweatpants and another muscle-hugging white t-shirt. Nothing of his would fit me properly, so he just offered me a hoodie that I wore as a short dress. Thankfully, my underwear was still dry, though I had to throw my bra in the dryer. I sat on his black leather couch, my legs folded under my butt, trying to keep warm. Bax plopped his head on my lap as I patted his soft brown hair, his eyes slightly closed. Tom prowled in the kitchen, warming our pizza.

“Hey,” I called out to him, “So, what changed your mind about me? What made you follow me out into the rain?”

He threw a dishtowel over his shoulder and looked up at me, leaning his hands on the kitchen counter. “I remembered what a prick I’d been back in Santa Monica. I couldn’t stand seeing the pain in your eyes. They mirrored what I was suffering, the nightmare of losing you. When you walked away, my heart shattered. I didn’t have the strength to lose you again.”

I never wanted to remember the pain of losing him either. As if sensing the sting in my heart, Bax licked my cheek. Looking up at me with those big amber-colored eyes, Bax gave me the warmth and comfort I needed. “I never thought I’d be a dog person, but how can you resist these eyes?” I said, rubbing under Bax’s chin.

“He likes you.” Tom placed the warm pizza on his coffee table accompanied by plates and some napkins. He sat next to me and tried to shoo his pal off the couch, but Bax wouldn’t budge. “Apparently, he likes you a lot.”

“I don’t mind him sitting next to me.”

“Well, I mind. I’d like to sit next to you.” He planted a wet one on my lips.

My box of memories sat on the floor next to the coffee table, the movie I’d brought lying on top. Tom reached for the movie. “I thought I was the only one who still owned DVDs. So, what are we watching?” he asked, then he hiked an eyebrow. “Top Gun?”

I grabbed a Margherita slice as I took the DVD from his hand. “Everyone loves this movie.”

“Yeah, back in 1986. But why are we watching it tonight?”

“Okay, this is going to sound weird, but after my mother died, whenever this movie came on, I was a mess.”

“Naval officers remind you of your mother? This I gotta hear.”

“My mom had wanted to be a ballerina when she was young, but her dreams ended when she got pregnant with me. Teen romance, and all that. She had to marry my father and became a housewife and mother. She never really could let go of dancing entirely, so at a very early age, she put me in dance. Ballet wasn’t really my thing, so she didn’t push me. She let me try all other forms of dance. My interest in jazz and contemporary dance grew when I started high school. My mother immediately recognized my talent for those styles. She saw the joy it brought me and was convinced I was going to be a famous dancer one day.

“Dance was my life. I ate it and breathed it. It was all I ever did, and my mother was there with me all the way. She was like a drill sergeant, but she was also my support. She never once tried to live her dream through me. She was my biggest fan. She was there to pick me up every time I fell, encouraging me and motivating me.”

“She sounds like an unbelievable person,” Tom said as he took a bite of his slice. “You never told me how she died.”

My eyes swelled with tears as I thought back to the accident. The chest-piercing memory dried up my mouth. I looked away from Tom, afraid to relive that day.

Tom reached for my chin and turned my face toward him. “If you don’t want to talk about it…”

I burst into tears as I leaned into him and wrapped my arms around his neck.

Tom tightened his arms around my body and held me close, knowing I needed his strength to get through this. “Listen, we don’t have to do this today.”

I loosened my hold and sat back on his couch. “There’s no point in keeping it a secret anymore. It happened. It was my fault and I just have to learn to live with my mistake.”

He put his half-eaten pizza slice down and stared at me. “What was your fault?”

I bit my bottom lip, trying to keep it from quivering. “My mother died because of me.”

“Sara, what happened?”

I sucked in a deep breath and pushed off the couch, walking over to the tall windows. As I looked through the glass, the clear summer night of the New York City skyline dissolved into a wintry mirage that transported me back four years to when my mother died. “It was the night of my biggest audition and a snowstorm was creeping in. We were up in Cape Cod visiting my grandmother and my mom begged me to stay, which would mean I’d risk missing the audition versus risking my life on the road. I should have listened.”

In the next thirty minutes, I told him how my gram, mother, and Maggie begged me to stay. How, against her better judgment, my mom decided to join me instead of letting me face the audition alone. With a heavy heart, I admitted the foolishness of my actions. Blinded by ambition and cold determination, I refused to listen to reason. All I’d cared about was landing a spot in the company. I’d jumped in my car and headed back to New York in the middle of one of the biggest snow storms of the decade. I should have stopped her from getting in my car, but I didn’t and she paid with her life.

“Sara, accidents happen,” Tom began.

I turned to face him, fury in my eyes. I’d heard the same sorry-ass consolation a million times from everybody. It wasn’t their fault and it sure as hell wasn’t Tom’s. What else could they say? Yeah, you fucked up and killed your mom? Our natural instinct is to try and comfort, but nothing made me feel better. Nothing ever could.

I didn’t want to lash out at him for something beyond his control, so I paused and inflated my lungs with a deep breath. “You don’t have to make me feel better. No matter how we try to spin it, the reality is, I could have prevented the accident. I didn’t have to go to that damned audition. If I’d stayed, if I’d listened to them, my mom would still be alive.”

“Okay, fine. You fucked up.”

I stared at him in shock. No one had ever said it, at least not to my face. Not even Jen, whom I had a no-bullshit agreement with.

“Isn’t that what you want to hear? The truth?” he asked, somewhat rhetorically.

I said nothing.

“You were reckless and stubborn and selfish. But who isn’t when it comes to chasing their dreams? You were doing something you thought was right, and tragically, it ended in a terrible accident.” He cut straight to the core of my guilt.

“And that’s exactly why I didn’t want to tell you. Who wants to be with someone who risked everything for a dream? I lost my mother, my career, and the man I was going to marry because of my reckless love of dance.”

“You were a kid, Sara. I’m not going to judge you by the mistakes of your past.”

“Why shouldn’t you judge me?” I shot back. “I’m making selfish mistakes all over again. Look at what just happened with us. I was so consumed with getting back on stage that I didn’t consider what lying about my past would do. I didn’t even care that I chose to let Alexei coach me.”

“What happened between us was stupid. I blew it out of proportion, and well, you have a right to your secrets. It’s not a requirement for you to tell me everything.”

Was he for real? I’d just spilled my dirty secret, explained I was still that same selfish girl, and he was taking the blame for our breakup? Could he possibly love me that much? I dropped to my knees, my hands covering my face as I cried.

Tom rushed to my side. “Sara?”

“No more secrets,” I ushered between sobs. “I’m tired of carrying the weight of my past. I can’t do it anymore.”

“Oh, Sara…” he sighed as he sat down on the wood floor and leaned his back against the glass wall, pulling me toward him. Both of us sitting on the floor, I pressed my back to his chest as he cradled me in his arms and ran his fingers through my hair. “I know there’s nothing anyone can say to help wash away the blame,” he continued. “I may not be able to lessen your guilt, but I can wipe your tears away, baby. And you won’t have to carry those regrets by yourself anymore, either. I’m here with you.”

My chest was ready to rip open. I could not contain so much emotion. His love for me was so immense, it blotted out the sun and became my new star. I knew I didn’t deserve his kindness, but I didn’t have the heart to pull away from him. How could I when his chest was a soft pillow and his arms a warm blanket?

I was finally able to tell him the rest of the story.

“Making it big in New York as a contemporary dancer was the only thing that mattered to me,” I started. “Owning the big apple—that was my dream. I look at the city now, and it all seems so trivial. None of it is of real importance. The worst part of it, though, is the fact I never accomplished anything. All the hard work. The sacrifices she made, even my selfishness, was all for nothing. She died and I didn’t even finish school.”

“Why did you quit dance, Sara?”

I looked up at him, sadly having to push away from his arms. “The accident damaged my spine. I was bedridden for months, barely able to walk.”

His eyes widened in shock. “Shit. I had no idea.”

“It was the excuse I needed to never step foot on a stage ever again.”

His brows knit as he cocked his head to the side. “You wanted that?”

“Her death made me realize how self-absorbed I had been. I hadn’t cared about anything or anyone else. The only thing that’d mattered was my success. But realizing she was gone, that she was never coming back? Dance was never going to be the same for me. Knowing she’d never get to see me dance on stage made me realize she had been the reason I started dancing in the first place—my dream of making it big had all been to make her proud of me. In the end, she died thinking I was a terrible person.”

“What makes you say that?”

“What kind of daughter does what I did, knowing the risks? That’s why I didn’t want to tell you. Because I was afraid you’d see me for who I really am.”

“That’s not who you are.”

“It is. My foolhardy decision caused someone their life.”

“Shit. Now it makes sense. The death of the best friend…” He realized then why the movie touched so close to home. He rubbed the scruff on his chin.

“After a year of physical therapy, my doctor told me I’d made a miraculous recovery. I may have been able to make up for all the lost time, plus my instructors told me the door was always open, but I didn’t even want to think about it. It was the perfect way out. I was tired of everyone telling me the accident was not my fault, that there was nothing I could have done. It was easier if I said damage to my spine kept me from dancing again. They wouldn’t be able to question that.”

Tom stood and offered me a hand, helping me to my feet. “Everyone bought it?” he asked, guiding me back to the sofa.

I sat down on the leather sectional and leaned back as I rested my feet up on the ottoman. “Well, up until Monday, I thought no one knew, but Jen told me she’d seen me dance in the apartment back when we first moved in together. She’d kept quiet. She knew how traumatized I was about the whole thing and didn’t want to stir up trouble.”

A gentle smile began to trace across his lips as he rested a playful gaze over me.

I smiled back, not really knowing why he was looking at me like he’d just figured out the final clue of a riddle. “What is it?” I asked.

“You can’t deny who you are, Sara. That’s all. Not then and certainly not now. You’ve been dancing in the shadows for too long, don’t you think?”

I let out a labored breath. “I wish it was that simple. What Jen saw was a shell of the dancer I used to be.”

He reached for a soggy pizza slice and chomped down. Between swallows, he asked, “So what happened to inspire you to get back on stage?”

I straightened and stared at him. “Are you kidding? Isn’t it obvious?”

He stopped chewing and shook his head no.

“It was you. You inspired me.”

He almost choked and had to gulp down a whole bottle of water to clear his throat. “Me?”

“Since I met you, my whole universe has uncoiled, opening up places I’d locked down long ago. After the accident, I fell deep into depression and was self-medicating with booze and painkillers. Josh couldn’t deal with my shit and left. I was so devastated I closed off my heart and I’ve preferred it that way because the slightest touch of happiness would dredge up my past. The thought of losing everything all over again…It consumed me with fear.”

He narrowed his eyes. “So, tell me again why me uncoiling your universe is a good thing?”

I reached for his hands and held them close. “Because this time, I am not running. I’ve wanted to, but that strong, unexplainable attraction to you won’t let me. And as memories from my past have surfaced, my desire to dance again has grown even stronger. You’re right, I can’t deny who I am. Jen convinced me it was the right thing to do, that I needed to tell you, I just didn’t know how.” I looked down, embarrassment washing over me. “I lied to you from the beginning. I was a coward for hiding it in the first place, and instead of fessing up, I dug a deeper hole.”

He raised a hand to my face and pulled a lose strand of hair behind my ear, caressing my cheek, drawing my gaze to his. “That’s in the past now. I get why you lied. Finding out how I did was just poor timing.”

I peered into his green eyes. Twinkling like a star-speckled night, his eyes told me he loved me more than I could ever imagine and he’d forgiven me for my mistake a million times over. “Thank you,” I told him, encircling my arms around him. “For being so understanding and for loving this damaged girl.”

After ten seconds that felt like the length of an orbit around the sun, he peeled me off him. “Okay, baby girl, I love you, you love me, but can we please finish this cold-ass pizza?”

* * *

We were done enjoying our cold pizza when Tom stood up from the couch and walked over to his sound system.

“What are you doing?” I asked.

He smiled at me over his shoulder. “I want you to dance.”

My eyes bulged. “Are you crazy? Here? You are nuts if you think I’m going to break out into a dance number right in your living room.”

“I meant…I want you to dance with me.” He pressed a button and the song began to play. “Ever since I saw you dance to this,” he continued, “the song has been circling in my head. I want you to know that I know I was wrong for leaving you, and, well, I’m never giving up on us again.” He stretched his hand out to me.

My heart melted. Moments like these were why I had fallen in love with him. I took his hand and followed him toward the tall windows. His apartment floor was our stage, and the twinkling New York City lights our audience.

“There’s a small disclosure, though,” he said, giving me a twirl with his hand.

“Oh yeah, and what’s that?”

“I can’t dance as well as fucking Alexei. Don’t have any fancy moves or anything. But I think I can pick you up in my arms if you’d like.”

I smiled. “I don’t need fancy moves. I just need you.”

We swayed in each other’s arms, tightly cocooned until the song ended.

And that was the best dance I’d ever had.