Braden laughed, smoothing his thumbs over my skin as we settled in what I imagined was the center of the room. “I wanted to do something special for your birthday. I know this one feels a little…”
“Daunting? Terrifying? Like I’m over the hill?”
“Different,” Braden supplied. “Everything you’re feeling right now is valid. Thirty always feels so far away until we hit it, and then it feels like we’re supposed to have all these milestones checked off the list.”
“Says the wise twenty-four-year-old.”
“I’m wise enough to know that life isn’t about what achievements we stack up in our years. It’s not about rushing to some finish line, either. It’s about all the adventures we take along the way, the detours and the roundabouts that take us on unexpected paths. Life is short. It’s unexpected.”
His voice softened with that, and I squeezed his hand, knowing he was thinking of his sister.
“We have to lean into what we’re given, make the most of our circumstances, and find our own stories. We’re not meant to follow the same road as everyone else. It’d be boring as fuck if wedid. And that’s what I’ve learned from you. What you’ve changed in me. I used to think boring was safe. Now, I’ve realized I don’t care about being safe if it means I don’t get to live in the process.”
I smiled.Why is my heart aching?
“I didn’t see you coming,” he said next, his voice soft, thumbs still brushing my skin. “I tried to resist you, tried to stay on the path I thought was safest. But being with you, Em… it’s opened me up. It’s made me better on the field. It’s helped me loosen my grip on every day, helped me stop trying to control everything. Even with Ginny and her scare…” I heard him swallow. “Having you there for that moment helped soften it. You made it easier to bear.”
Okay, yeah, now my nose was stinging. I was thankful for the blindfold.
“I think you feel a little lost, and that’s okay. This injury threw you for a loop. Your twenties were filled with you doing a lot of exploring. And that’s the thing, Em. You’re not behind. Just because you haven’t made it to the destination doesn’t mean you’re not driving and covering miles. And my take is that you’ve had the more scenic route.”
My chest was so tight, I struggled for my next inhale.
How does he see me this way? How can he see all that through the mess?
“With all that in mind, and the fact that you’re cast free—”
“Woo hoo!”
“—I wanted to take you somewhere where you could reconnect with yourself. Where you could maybe see another future path, should you decide this is the way you want to steer.”
He dropped my hands carefully, moving around behind me to unfasten the blindfold. His lips dipped to my ear just before it dropped.
“This isn’t the end, Emily. We’re just getting to the good part.”
I blinked my eyes open and found us standing in a gorgeous dance studio.
Sunlight spilled through a wall of tall industrial windows, washing the honey-colored wood floors in gold. One full side of the room was lined with mirrors from floor to ceiling, the opposite wall fitted with ballet barres and cubbies full of rolled yoga mats, resistance bands, and neatly stacked foam blocks. A sleek black speaker sat in the corner beside a little table with a water cooler and paper cups, and there was a faint smell of lemon cleaner, old hardwood, and something powdery and familiar — like hairspray and little feet.
It was beautiful.
And achingly intimate.
My chest hollowed out as I looked around, like all the air had rushed from it at once.
Slowly, I turned in a circle, taking it in piece by piece, my heart beginning to pound harder the more I looked. My gaze snagged on the mirror, and before I could think too hard about it, I drifted toward it like I was underwater.
Braden stayed quiet behind me as I lifted my good hand first, then hesitated before raising the injured one, too — careful, cautious, still not trusting it all the way. My fingertips skimmed over the glass, soft and almost reverent, and the second I saw my own reflection standing there in the middle of a dance studio, my eyes burned.
Oh.
Oh, no.
I swallowed hard and turned back to him, blinking fast. “What is this?”
His expression softened. “It’s a small studio in Fremont,” he said. “I rented it for the afternoon.”
I looked around again, like maybe I’d misunderstood him somehow. “You… rented a dance studio?”
