The song swells. I wrap the staff around my shoulders, behind my back, across my chest. The fire flares. Then, slowly, I sink to the floor, the staff still burning in my hands as I lower my head.
Silence falls. A split second later the room erupts into wild applause. I force a small smile as I stand and give a slight bow.
My final goodbye to Aiden and everything he did for me. Maybe after tonight, I’ll start to feel some peace.
I walk off the stage. Jessica’s waiting for me. She wraps me in another hug and squeezes tight.
“Killed it.” She pulls back and wipes away a tear of her own. “Absolutely killed it.”
“Thank you.”
She grabs my arm as I start to walk down the hall. “Do you mind hanging out for a moment?”
I want to just go back to the dressing room and sink into a chair. But I nod. Jessica walks back out into the spotlight.
“Absolutely incredible. Thank you, Seraphina. And now, before our next performance, please welcome our generous benefactor who made tonight’s venue possible.”
She walks toward me. The tension is back, as are the faint lines by her eyes as she stops next to me and looks back toward the stage. The lights dim. I can see a shadow moving against the dark.
Then the lights come up. My heart pitches straight down to my feet.
Aiden.
“Good evening.” It’s only been four days, but the sound of his deep, rich voice is like a balm to a wound. “I just wanted to take a moment to say thank you for coming out to support Cirque Obsidian and their artists.” The audience claps as he smiles. “As some of you may know, I had a chance to see some of their performers in action recently at the Hudson Springs Botanical Gardens.”
Quiet laughter sweeps through the crowd.
“But I want to highlight the impact Cirque Obsidian makes outside their studio. They don’t just perform at galas and fundraisers. They offer free classes and performances at domestic violence shelters like Grace’s Refuge, lead workshops for at-risk youth and detention centers, visit local hospitals.”
The audience is silent now, their attention riveted on the man on the stage.
“An important woman in my life introduced me to just how big an impact Cirque Obsidian makes on our community. So tonight, for those of you inclined to support this group, the Hawke Foundation will not only match tonight’s donations, but double the final amount.”
Thunderous applause breaks out. I stare at Aiden, at this man I once thought to be cold and unfeeling. Pride swells as he bows his head. Jessica walks out to him and shakes his hand. He waits until the applause dies down before he speaks again.
“The foundation’s commitment is inspired by Seraphina Clark, a woman who has taught me about following one’s heart and the value of not just giving, but giving with intention.”
Hope—wonderful, terrible hope—blooms in my chest.
“Enjoy the show.”
He nods to the audience. And then his gaze latches on to me. My breath catches in my chest at the sheer emotion burning in his eyes. He walks off the stage toward me, his steps strong and sure. I stand rooted to the spot, my heart pounding so hard I feel like I might pass out.
He stops in front of me.
“Seraphina.”
“Aiden.” I bite down on my lower lip. “That was beautiful.”
“Thank you.”
His hand comes up, as if he’s going to touch me. But he stops, lets his arm drop back to his side. My hope quivers.
“Your performance…” He stops, his eyes locked on to mine as he breathes in deeply. “It was perfect.”
“Thank you.” I gesture to the stage. “You arranged all this?”
“I did. With the stipulation I be allowed to speak after your performance.”
