Page 72 of One Last Encore

"You don’t have to be scared with me," he murmured. "I’m here, okay? For all of it. The good, the messy, everything. Whatever you need."

Her lips parted slightly, like she wanted to respond, but no words came. Instead, she blinked, her chest rising and falling with a deep, measured breath.

"You are so strong," he whispered, his thumb brushing gently over her fingers. He kissed her knuckles again. "Brave." Another kiss. "Thank you for trusting me with this." He held her hand a little closer, his voice a breath against her skin. "Trusting me withyou."

She closed her eyes for a moment, letting his words settle around her. When she opened them again, something had shifted. Her hand tightened around his.

"How are things with your mom now?" he asked softly.

"She’s the same as always. Still thinks Juilliard is pointless. I’ve stopped hoping she’ll ever see it differently."

Beck’s jaw tightened. He hated how easily she said it, like her mom’s dismissal was just something she’d gotten used to. Like it was normal. Like she didn’t deserve better. But she did. God, she really did. She deserved someone who saw her fire, her talent, not someone who measured her worth against their own narrow view of success.

“She thinks I should be auditioning nonstop, skipping the degree and jumping straight into the ‘real world.’ Like getting an education is some kind of detour.” Ingrid rolled her eyes. “In her mind, there’s one right way to do things, and surprise, it’s hers.”

Beck frowned, his fingers brushing lightly over the back of her hand. He knew that feeling all too well. Chasing something you loved while someone you cared about acted like it didn’t count. Rodney had never missed a chance to talk down his decision to go to Juilliard.

"I get it. It’s hard," he murmured.

"Yeah," she sighed. "But there’s an upcoming winter ballet intensive at Paris Opera Ballet School during the semester break, so I’ll be spending a month staying with her."

Her fingers tensed slightly in his.

"But it’s just a month. I can handle it," she added quickly, though it sounded more like she was trying to convince herself than him.

He hadn’t realized she was leaving for Paris in two months. It was temporary, sure, but the date felt uncomfortably close now. At least she’d be back for the spring semester.

The thought of her staying with her mom didn’t sit right with him. He’d seen firsthand how hard Ingrid was on herself. How she pushed through injury, danced past pain. The blood on her pointe shoes, the clenched jaw after rehearsals, the way she smiled through bruises and blisters. It was all part of the unrelenting standard she held herself to.

And her mother? She’d only pile on more pressure. The pressure would build, and Ingrid would carry it all like she always did, without complaint, burying it where no one could see.

"Just be careful, and call me if she starts with any of that overbearing shit," Beck said. "You’re insanely talented, Ingrid. Don’t let her dim that."

Her lips curved into a small, genuine smile. "Thanks, Beck," she said softly, her eyes meeting his.

He leaned in slightly, his gaze never leaving hers. "Please tell me you know how incredible you are."

A faint flush rose to her cheeks as she gave a small shrug.

How could someone like her, so gifted and full of fight and fire, not see it? Not recognize the strength she carried, the light she brought into every room? It was unthinkable. And if she couldn’t see it yet, he would show her. Again and again, for as long as it took.

"My grandmother used to tell me, ‘You’ll never reach your destination if you stop and throw stones at every dog that barks.’You’re too incredible, too talented, and too brilliant to let the barking dogs slow you down."

She squeezed his hand, and slowly, the corners of her mouth lifted into a smile, tentative at first. Then it grew. Wider. Brighter. Until it bloomed into a full, breathtaking smile that revealed dimples he hadn’t even seen before. It wasn’t a polite smile. Or a teasing smirk. It was real.

Beck’s breath caught.

That smile wasn’t just radiant. It was transformative. It lit up her entire face, making her look almost luminous in the dim glow of the café. He had seen her smile before, sure, but nothing like this. Never like it belonged to him, even for a second. And that was it. That was the moment he knew.

If he hadn’t already been falling, that smile pushed him off the edge. Warmth spread through his chest, curling around his ribs like something meant to stay. He was falling for her. Hard.

"Wow," Ingrid said, her voice breaking the spell, eyes bright. "Does your grandma hate dogs or something?"

"No, not at all. She loved all animals, used to take in every stray she could find. That was just who she was, caring to a fault." His smile softened as the memory of her flooded his mind. "But we’ve always been more of a cat family."

"Well, Freddie’s not exactly easy to win over," she said, her tone playful.

"Freddie?" Beck raised an eyebrow, intrigued.

---