Page 57 of On Dancer
“No, they’re married now.” Ari laughed like the long-distance thing was a side quest rather than the main villain in her sister’s story. “They have two kids. They teach at different universities, but both are in the Philly area. No more four-time-zone commute.”
“Oh.” My voice was flat, but my mind was racing. Had Alexander and I given up too easily?
“It was a rough couple of years, but luckily, nothing lasts forever.” Ari gave a shrug, the fur trim on her dress rippling like a cat stretching. She was right that nothing lasted forever.I’d assumed all along that Alexander and I were destined for a single season. Was it logistics that had held me back or my own doubts? Those pesky thoughts about self-worth from earlier returned to nag at me. I’d been so afraid of Alexander’s rejection that I hadn’t allowed myself to answer honestly.
My brain continued to churn long after Ari drifted away. I managed a few bites of food, but I kept eyeing the exit, ready to be alone with my thoughts.
“Up for a game?” Troy asked before I could go in search of my coat.
“Come on. Join us,” Chris urged. On his other side, Irma nodded enthusiastically. Chris was handling my rejection rather well. Perhaps I owed him a game if nothing else.
“I suppose I can.” I took a seat next to Irma at the table. Unable to escape memories of Alexander, I reached for my shark deck. Might as well play a round in tribute to his bloodthirsty ways. My stomach twisted with a fresh wave of longing.
I shifted my attention to the game, trying to let it be the distraction I sorely needed. However, it didn’t take long for Troy to slice through my army of sharks.
“Heck.” I groaned as I was the first to be defeated. “How did you do that?”
“Easy. You’re too predictable.” Troy gave a good-natured laugh.
“You do use the same strategy a lot, dear,” Irma added when I glared at Troy.
Heck. Maybe they were both right. I was rather easy to read. And stubborn. I’d been so certain of the outcome that I’d been afraid to try a different approach with Alexander. I’d fallen back on old feelings of inadequacy and given up rather than fighting for what I truly wanted.
“Maybe it’s time to change things up,” I said slowly.You deserve to be happy,my mother had said, and I let myselfbelieve that. I’d been waiting for some sort of professional purpose, but what if my calling was something altogether different?
“Do you want to play another game, or do you need to talk to Alexander?” Chris asked.
I blinked. How had Chris guessed the direction of my thoughts when I was only now sorting them out?
“Why would I do that?” I pursed my lips, uncertain as to his motives here.
“Dude.” Troy groaned as if running out of patience with me. Understandable. I was also a bit sick of my moping. Shaking his head, Troy pointed over my shoulder. “He’s right behind you.”
Thirty-One
Grande battement:a big kick of the leg.
Alexander
“Alexander.” Rudy’s eyes were wider than one of Irma’s whoopie pies as he whispered my name. He waved his hand of cards in front of his face as if testing to see if I were a mirage. I could forgive his disbelief because I was also shocked to find myself here.
“This is so sweet.” Ari did a mock swoon into her girlfriend’s arms before digging for her phone. “I need a picture.”
Getting up from the table, Irma tapped my arm. “Have you eaten, dear?”
“Uh. Not really.” I’d had a long, mercifully direct flight to Philadelphia, then a train ride, then a walk to the game store, and food hadn’t exactly been a priority.
“I’ll fix you a plate.” Irma hauled Ari and her phone along with her to the food table.
“I’m feeling a burning need to do some card inventory.” Troy also stood up and motioned at Chris. “How about a hand?”
“Nothing I’d rather do than count cards.” Chris was chipper as ever as he trailed after Troy, leaving me and Rudy to stare at each other.
All the hours of travel caught up with me, and I sank onto the chair next to Rudy. “Hi.”
“Hi.” He licked his lips. No smile. No dimples. Only uncertain eyes and nervous hands. “What are you doing here?”
“I missed you.” There was so much else I wanted to say, but all the other reasons came back to that one. I missed him. I missed him so much that I’d browsed flights on another sleepless night after my conversation with Victoria. I missed him so much that I skipped Friday class. I’d missed him and missed him, and now I was here, and if he sent me away, I might melt into a puddle, never to recover.
