Page 37 of Shattered Souls
A loudclicksounds like a gunshot in the otherwise quiet street before the door swings inward, and Royce ushers me inside.
“Why are we here?” I ask, stepping into the dance studio.
Mirrors line the far wall, and I flick a glance over my red dress and matching heels, not lingering on my blotchy face before I wrench my gaze away.
Royce strides straight for the sound system, fiddling with it as he connects his phone. Feeling my eyes on him, he liftshis head. His gaze rakes over my face before he answers my question. “This is where you go to bleed out your pain.”
The slow opening notes ofKeep Your Head Up Princessby Anson Seabra seep into the air, and still holding my gaze, Royce murmurs, “Bleed, baby.”
That’s all the encouragement I need to kick off my heels. Not looking at the mirror, I move into the center of the room. My bare feet press into the polished wooden floor, reflecting the street lights from outside since we didn’t bother to turn on any lights in the studio. As the slow beat plays out, I stretch out each of my limbs, lifting my arms above my head and twisting my core as I point my toes and extend my legs until I’m warmed up and the music is wrapped protectively around me.
The song shifts toNakedby James Arthur. Another slow beat that enables me to turn inward as I close my eyes and allow all my pain and grief to press down on me.
I start to move, each step deliberate, each motion a desperate attempt to expel the anguish that’s tearing me apart. The lyrics echo in the hollow ache of my chest, resonating with the raw, unfiltered pain of our failure tonight—of going another day without holding my daughter. Every beat of the song is another heartbeat I can’t feel against mine, every note a reminder of the emptiness that consumes me.
My agony expands as the song bleeds into another,Said Soby Alexander Stewart. I spin, the world blurring around me, even as the ache remains sharp and clear. I pour every ounce of sorrow into the dance, my body a conduit for the despair that words can’t capture. My arms reach out as if trying to grasp the ghost of my daughter, finding nothing but air. As if running could bridge the unbearable distance between us, my legs carry me across the studio in frantic strides.
Tears stream down my face, hot and unrelenting, but I don’t wipe them away. They’re a testament to my pain, proof of thelove I have for her, a love that’s stronger than the torment but no less agonizing. I drop to my knees, the impact jarring but grounding. The floor is cool beneath my palms, a stark reminder of the reality I can’t escape.
Emptyby Letdown plays next, and all that pain, desperation, and anger swells. It crashes over me. My body trembles as I push myself up, the music guiding me through a fast-paced sequence of movements that cut through the air and slice through the plume of heartache.
With each song, the beat increases, and along with it, the speed at which I race across the floor, dipping and spinning until the world is a blur. Every movement is a plea, a prayer, a scream into the void.
My movements hit a crescendo withBreathby Breaking Benjamin. I’m drenched and gasping for breath as my feet slap against the hardwood floor. Every lift of my leg is a kick, my arms a sharp flick as I throw them out to my sides.
I dance for Aurora, for the moments I’ve missed, for the nights I’ve cried myself to sleep with her name on my lips. I dance for the fear that grips me every second she’s gone, for the hope I can’t let go of. My heart aches with every beat of the song, a painful rhythm that drives me to the edge of my endurance.
As the music fades into silence, I feel my body give out, the intensity of my emotions taking their toll. Strong arms catch me before I can hit the floor. Royce. I don’t have to look to know it’s him; his presence is as familiar to me as my own heartbeat.
He lifts me, cradling me against his chest, and for a moment, I let myself fall into him, taking comfort in his strength.
The song changes, andConfidenceby Steven Ryan begins to play. Royce doesn’t say a word; just starts to move, guiding me in a slow, gentle dance. His hands are firm yet tender, one resting on the small of my back, the other holding mine. I let him lead,my body following his like we’ve done this a thousand times before.
As the music swells, Royce pulls me closer, his warmth seeping into my skin, grounding me. The lyrics speak of a man coaxing out a woman’s confidence in the face of everything she has overcome, and that’s exactly what it feels like Royce is doing. He’s showing me that I can fall, I can bleed, but he’ll always be here to help me up. He’ll be at my side while I fight another round.
Sometimes you gotta bleed ’til the poison drains out.
You gotta believe when your heart’s filled with doubt.
Let me see your confidence.
It’s as though the song was written for us, for this moment.
His gaze meets mine, and I see the promise in his eyes: I’ve got you.
We move together, our steps in sync, and I let myself lean into him, letting go of some of the pain. His arms are a safe haven, his touch a balm for my raw wounds. I can feel the tension in my muscles slowly start to ease, the frantic rhythm of my heart calming as we sway to the music.
“Sometimes we have to let ourselves feel what we’re feeling,” Royce murmurs, his voice a steady anchor in the storm. “It does us no good to keep those feelings bottled inside. We have to let them out, let them consume us. Drown in the pain, baby. I’ll be here to pull you back to the surface and hold you tight.”
Tears gather in my eyes again, but this time they’re different. They’re tears of relief, of gratitude. I press my face into his shoulder, letting myself feel the safety he offers. With every step, every turn, he’s there, holding me together, piece by piece.
His fingers trace soothing patterns on my back, and I cling to him, absorbing his strength. The music wraps around us, a cocoon of melody and emotion, and while my chest still aches and despair still clings to my skin, I no longer feel like I’m suffocating beneath the weight of it all.
However, with his heat seeping beneath my skin and the strength of his arms wrapped around me, I want to feel nothing but him… if only for a few moments.
With the melody of a song I don’t recognize bleeding into the studio, I press onto my toes and seal my lips over Royce’s, my body seeking solace in his embrace. His lips meet mine, and it’s like a switch flips. All the pain, the anguish, the crushing despair—it all fades away. His kiss is a stopper on all those feelings, replacing them with heat, desire, warmth, and need. I melt into him, one hand on his shoulder to balance me while my other tangles with his hair.
The music swells, and for a moment, nothing else exists. It’s just us, lost in each other, drowning out the world. His kiss is demanding and all-consuming. I let it take me over completely. I pour everything into it until all that’s left is the fire between us.
