Page 63 of Declan
“Then why not go and see for yourself? If you’re as happy as you say you are, then go and make sure. You love ballet, Elise,and having a chance to work with Wynonna might make you see things differently.” Her mother’s sigh was audible through the phone. “I am not telling you what to do, but I can honestly see it from Declan’s view. He watched you dance and probably saw the joy on your face, and he needs reassurance that you want him. An opportunity like this will probably never come again. If you go and want to stay, or if you go and want to return to Montana, that’s your answer. I know how it is to miss being involved in ballet, but when I retired from it, all I wanted was to raise a family and maybe have my children love ballet as much as I did. I wish I’d been able to have more children, but I wasn’t. I was so happy that you took to ballet right away.”
“I don’t know what to do.” Elise sobbed, her voice a cry for guidance.
“Yes, you do. Come to New York. Stay with us and work with Wynonna but tell her it might only be temporary. She’ll understand, sweetie,” her mother suggested.
“I’ll be miserable.”
“You could be, but if Declan is really what you want, then take this chance. I’m sure he’s as upset as you are. He probably has the fear that if you go, you won’t return to him, but he wants you to do what makes you happy. That is a good man, Elise. He’s putting your needs above his. Do this, then you’ll know for sure. It’s better to do it now than to regret not trying at all.”
“I suppose you’re right. I’ll call Wynonna tomorrow and make the arrangements. What do I do about Declan?”
“You need to see him and tell him you’ll go. He’s not going to be happy, but if it makes you happy, he’ll accept however it turns out.”
“I’ll go see him now. I love you and Dad, Mom.”
“We love you too. Let me know when you’ll be here. I’ll pick you up at the airport.”
They talked for a few more minutes, then hung up. Elisepicked up her keys, locked the door behind her and ran down the stairs. She noticed it was beginning to snow, but it wasn’t going to stop her.
****
Declan sank deeper into his recliner, the fire in the hearth catching the amber glow of the whiskey in his cut-glass tumbler. He hadn’t lifted the glass to his lips yet, but the cool weight of it in his palm felt like a small comfort against the turmoil whirling in his chest. He traced the rim with his thumb, listening to the flames as they licked around the logs.
He knew that when he told her she should go, it wouldn’t end well. He pictured the disappointment blooming in her eyes, heard the tremor in her voice. Yet he couldn’t bear the thought of her forever wondering if she’d sacrificed everything, her dreams, for him. If her future lay in New York, then that’s where she needed to be.
Earlier today when he’d watched her dance, her silhouette lithe and graceful beneath the harsh fluorescent bulbs. Wood creaked under her pointe shoes as she moved through the dance, her arms tracing elegant arcs through the stale air. She was so lost in the music, so entirely herself, that she hadn’t noticed him standing in the doorway until she spun and froze, surprise on her face at seeing him there. In that instant he’d felt his heart wrench, he loved her so fiercely, but he knew love sometimes meant letting go.
A low, rumbling growl from Tank snapped Declan back to the present moment, the sound reverberating through the quiet room. He carefully placed the glass on the side table and stood up, his boots clicking sharply against the polished hardwood floor. With a flick of his wrist, he switched on the porchlight, casting a warm yellow glow over the front steps and slicing through the crisp evening air. Outside, Elise stood beside herparked SUV, her breath forming fleeting clouds of mist in the chilly atmosphere as she gazed intently at the house, snow whipping around her.
“Tank, stay.”
Opening the door, Declan stepped onto the porch, the wooden boards creaking slightly under his weight as he leaned against the post, arms folded casually across his chest.
“Come inside,” he murmured gently, his voice barely above a whisper.
Elise inhaled deeply, before exhaling softly, the vapor swirling in front of her face like a ghostly veil. She climbed the steps with deliberate slowness, pausing at the last stair, where the faint shimmer of tears traced damp paths down her cheeks, glistening under the porchlight. The sight struck him deeply, a pang of regret twisting inside him, knowing he was the cause of her sorrow.
He opened the door wider, nodding for her to enter. She slipped past him, shoulders hunched against an invisible weight, and together they stood in the warm, inviting glow of the kitchen.
“Where’s your coat?” he asked, noticing the slight tremble in her frame.
She shook her head, her voice a soft whisper. “I didn’t think to grab it. Can… can we talk?”
“Of course.” He gestured toward the living room, but she lingered, crouching beside Tank, her fingers weaving gently through the soft fur for comfort before rising and moving into the living room.
She settled on the sofa with a weariness that seemed to seep into her bones, while Declan returned to his recliner, the two of them facing each other across the low coffee table cluttered with magazines and coasters.
“Would you like something to drink?” he offered, his voice tentative.
Her eyes remained fixed on the patterned rug, her head shaking slightly. “No. Declan… I’m going to do what you want. I’m going to New York.”
A sudden tightness seized his chest, as if an invisible hand had gripped his heart, and he swallowed hard against the rising lump in his throat. “I see.”
Her gaze lifted, her voice quivering. “It’s what you want.”
He rose, crossing the short distance to sit beside her, his knee gently brushing against hers. He took her hand, feeling the tremor in her delicate fingers. “Elise, it’s not what I want. I want you here with me every day of my life. But more than that, I want you to be absolutely sure I’m what you want.”
Tears shimmered in her eyes, her voice thick with emotion. “Youarewhat I want,” she said, her words laden with sincerity. “But after talking with my mother, she convinced me to go, to be certain of what I want. No one seems to believe me when I say I already know. So, I’m doing this for you.”
