Page 128 of Allegiant

I dismiss that thought as quickly as it arrives. Samson might’ve planned to kill me once, but he won’t hurt me now.

Not physically, anyway.

Finally, after a lifetime, the clock on the wall tells me the hour is up. I smile brightly as I face the class. As I face Samson. “Excellent work, everybody. Soon you’ll all be dancing in your own show here at Rhythm Studio.”

A series of wry chuckles meets my ears. I tut, arching a brow and putting a hand on my hip. “Oh, don’t you all give me that. You might be beginners, but let me tell you a secret. Dancing on stage is about love. It doesn’t matter if you miss steps or aren’t technically polished. If you love what you’re doing, the audience will enjoy it.”

Samson’s eyes burn into me during my little speech. Does he know that part of me is making it just for him?

I might be pissed at Samson. Furious, really.

But I still love him. I still want him to be happy.

To dance. To be who he always wanted to be deep down.

I speak around the lump that’s suddenly formed in my throat. “Until you’re ready for that, don’t forget to pick up your tickets at the front desk. I’m hoping to look out into the audience in two days’ time to see all your smiling faces.”

More than one person comes up to tell me how excited they are to see the show. I smile in all the right places, engaging in small talk and thanking them for their support.

The whole time, my mind is only half there. The other half is with the man leaning against the wall, one foot up, looking as though he has all the time in the world.

Well, he can keep on waiting. I’m not ready to talk.

I don’t think I ever will be.

When the final person leaves, I don’t give him the attention he’s after. With shaky hands, I unplug my phone from the speaker system and grab my bag from the tiny office. Sinking gracefully to the floor, I’m silent as I swap out my ballet pumps for sneakers.

A shadow falls over me. “Can we talk?”

That voice, rough and so fucking perfect.

I keep my eyes on my laces, not trusting myself to look at him. It’s too risky now that we’re alone. “I’ve said everything I want to.”

I get to my feet, but he’s still there, his big frame crowding me. “

You might’ve said your piece; now it’s my turn.”

“Move,” I shove at his chest. Stupid thing doesn’t shift an inch. I might be muscled and toned, but for dance, not moving stubborn men. “I’m not interested.”

“Please.” There’s a desperation in his eyes that I wish to god I hadn’t noticed. “Just five minutes. I didn’t… I was in shock before. I couldn’t find the words, but I’ve found them now. Please. Let me say them, Row.”

I hate how he shortens my name. The softness on the single syllable, like it’s something precious to him. It’s enough to have me caving, lowering my walls by a single inch.

I fucking hate it.

I fucking hate him.

Except I don’t.

I love him.

I love him, and he betrayed me.

I hate that most of all.

“Five minutes,” I grind out. “That’s it. Make them count.”

His chest inflates as he takes a deep breath. “Thank you.”