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“It’s not fucking money! You fucking know that,” he snarls shocking me.
“What is it then? What is this thing? What are we to you? Christian I’m a mother. I can’t just play around not knowing what I’m doing.”
“So you think it’s best to push me into telling you what I feel for you? No. That’s not happening. It’s like you’re giving me some ultimatum.”
“I’m not. Christian you know I’m right. This was your idea. You were the one that said we’d walk away. I just told you it would be hard for me.”
“Lilly… if you want to move, go ahead.”
He says and walks out. As the front door slams it feels like a rug just pulled from beneath me.
I can’t even cry.
* * *
Christian’s not at the club tonight and he didn’t come home. I left Rosie with Vera and head out to work. Driving myself in.
I danced and I couldn’t do my usual by getting lost in the music. I danced and twice I missed a step. No one would really know the mistake because they don’t know the routine but I do.
I move in my ball improvising and doing my best not to feel like shit.
This is the same routine as that night weeks ago when I first felt that spark between Christian and me. It was at this point in the music where the ball floated over to him and I never expected to see him because I was nowhere near his lounge.
The violin music starts. It’s a clever insert piece into the techno mix and incorporates the melody from Swan Lake. I know this part by heart. The ball floats over to the balcony and the smoke covers it. The lights go out giving the illusion that I’ve disappeared.
It was at this point when I saw him, when the lights reappeared.
As the glow of light comes back on inch by inch I see a face before me I never expected to see ever again.
The ball is supposed to stay here for a few seconds for this part of the music and I’m supposed to be standing on my toes in a plie, but my knees turn to water when I see Miguel standing on the balcony before me, watching me.
His face breaks out into an open smile when he sees that I see him and I know it’s him.
More importantly, I know he’s not dead.
Chapter Thirty-Two
Lilly
It’s him.
It’s actually him.
Miguel’s alive he didn’t die. But that was last year. It all happened last year.
Where has he been all this time?
Miguel watches me with that stern expression and that crude smile as the ball moves and starts to float away.
I can’t dance. I can’t move. I can’t breathe.
My heart is drumming, the hammering sound deafening and the pull on my soul unbearable.
I stand just like I am, shell shocked for the final minutes.
By the time the ball makes its way back to the other side of the hall to end the performance I feel faint and so lightheaded I see stars.
Louise is standing over by the bench waiting for me with water. I go to her and almost stumble tripping over nothing, my soul fighting to escape the devil it just saw.
