Page 14 of After All This Time

"Meh," I mumble, too drained to put any effort into sugarcoating just how crappy I feel. My head's trying to split itself in half, and my entire body feels like it's been dipped in concrete.

"That good, huh?"

"I've survived worse." The words come out flat, but it's true.

"Two Christmases ago—I remember."

My stomach tightens, instantly transporting me back to a night I'd rather forget. "We agreed never to discuss that again."

It was the year my cheating ex Danny dumped me on Christmas Eve, leaving me heartbroken and humiliated. The aftermath was messy—I got wasted and ended up sprawled across the bathroom floor, hurling everything, including my pride—but Tobias was the one who held my hair back when I fell apart.

"Do you ever hear from that prick?"

"No, thank God. What the hell was I thinking?" I sit down opposite him, resting my elbows on the cool surface.

"Boring and blond not your type, Mills?"

Never has been.

"I don't have a type. Same as you."

"Too many beautiful women in this world for me to have a type."

"And you've probably slept with most of them." He starts to laugh before he lifts his mug to his lips.

"Speaking of," he says as he sets his mug back down. "I won't be here tonight. I've got a date."

I arch a brow at him. "You don't date."

"Not true."

"Oh yeah? So where are you taking her?"

"Her place." The way he says it, so casual and smug, makes me roll my eyes.

"You're so predictable."

"Hey, I asked her if we could go out. She refused." His grin grows wider as that cocky smirk comes out to play.

"Well, enjoy. I'm going back to sleep." I stand up and head down the hallway before crawling back into my bed.

I pull the blankets up to my chin and flip through the TV channels, but it's always the same shit—rich kids who act like their lives are more complicated than they really are and reality shows where everything is perfectly scripted to keep you mindless and entertained. Still, I let it play in the background, watching as my mind slowly numbs until, eventually, sleep pulls me under.

A few hours later, after a long, hot shower and some much-needed carbs, I'm finally starting to feel human again. The hangover has eased, and I no longer resemble a swamp rat that's been dragged through hell.

Sliding into shorts and a cropped tee, I slip my feet into my worn ballet shoes and make my way into my studio—my little sanctuary, the place where I feel most at peace and where any chaos in my mind immediately quiets.

The faint scent of lavender coming from the diffuser in the corner of the room lingers in the air, and for a moment, I just stand here, taking in the silence and appreciating the stillness.

Wooden floors creak softly beneath my feet, and wall-to-wall mirrors stretch along one side, reflecting every angle and making the room seem larger than it actually is. The ballet barre beneath the mirrors is the heart of the room—my heart. I've spent countless hours here pressing, pulling, stretching, and perfecting, and the sight of it never fails to remind me why I love this.

Before I moved in, Tobias gave me a tour of the apartment over a video call. I remember watching as he panned the camera around, showing me every room, but it wasn't until he swung the view into the closet that I realized just how big it was.

It took some convincing, but I eventually persuaded my mom to let me transform most of the closet into a practice studio.

I begin my warm-up, gently twisting my neck from side to side. My shoulders follow, rolling back in slow circles, and I stretch my arms up toward the ceiling, feeling the pull in my muscles. As I move to my legs, I take my time to ensure my body is fully awake, slowly stretching down until my palms rest flat against the floor. Once I feel the warmth spreading through my body, I walk over to the mirrors and position myself in front of the ballet barre. I grip the smooth wood as I lift one leg, pressing into a deep stretch and feeling the tight pull of my hamstrings. When I lower it back down, I inhale deeply, allowing my mind to relax and sink into the calm that dancing brings me.

Ever since I can remember, ballet has been my world. I'm pretty sure I was taken to a class way before I could even tie my shoelaces, and from that moment on, I never stopped.

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