AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Aidan
Jenpagesthroughthe playbill in her lap. “It says here that Grace performed as the Sugarplum Fairy in The Nutcracker last Christmas. I would’ve loved to have seen that.”
Her boyfriend, Ethan, pats her knee. “I’m sure this won’t be the only time you get to see her dance, love.”
I flip absently through my own playbill, keeping an eye on the stage. The local theater Grace’s ballet company has chosen for their performance of Giselle is small and dated, but it’s not without character. I check the time on my phone; two minutes to showtime.
It’s been almost a month since Grace returned to school, and there’s no denying that I’ve missed having her around. But this time apart has opened new avenues for us to converse.
Part of our arrangement includes daily good-morning and goodnight texts. I’m strict about her bedtime, but I’ve recently found it difficult to set my own phone down.
What began as a method of keeping tabs on Grace while she’s at school has become an icebreaker. It’s easier to be candid with the aid of a screen and some distance between you. I've shared things with her that I rarely discuss. Stories about my mother, and about growing up with Calvin. The selfies and photos I’ve asked Grace to send are an invaluable glimpse into parts of her life that I can’t witness. I’m consistently heartened by her eagerness to share herself with me.
I’m also more confused than ever.
This isn’t how I behave with my submissives, texting in bed and swapping histories. I've become Pavlov's dog; every time my phone vibrates, my hand moves to check the sender, even if I know the text won't be from Grace. In my past vanilla relationships, I’ve gone long stretches without seeing or speaking to my partners.
If Grace goes longer than five minutes without responding to a message, I start to pace.
I stopped dating altogether after the mistake I made with Liam's mother. When I opened back up to the possibility of a relationship, I was in my mid-twenties and no longer starry-eyed and fresh-faced. I was hardened by loneliness and regret. I couldn’t be intimate with a woman without the shadow of my mistake looming overhead. It’s a feeling I’ve yet to shed. But somehow, in these fleeting intimate exchanges with Grace, I’m able to forget the darkness in my past.
Her warm-sunshine smile is bright enough to send the shadows scampering.
A hush falls over the audience as the lights flicker and dim. The cry of a violin cuts through the quiet. The curtains part to reveal a painted village backdrop, as two young men around Grace's age take the stage in modified period costumes.
After a few minutes, Grace emerges from the wings, twirling and frolicking.
I’ve watched her practice this dance countless times in shorts and leotards. Seeing her in full costume is like watching a butterfly emerge from a chrysalis. It’s never been more clear to me that her body was made to do this.
The young man playing the prince tries to kiss her hand. She pulls away, and he dances after her. I watch the push-and-pull of their exchange so intently I'm sure she can feel my gaze warming her from a distance. She knows Jen and I are in the audience. What she doesn’t know is that I’ve planned a special treat for her and a friend tonight. Something I think her feet will appreciate after a long day.
The music changes and more dancers join Grace and the prince on stage. I recognize Grace’s friend, Jasmine, from Grace’s social media posts. The ballet company is small, and a few of the younger dancers miss their cues, but overall, they put on an impressive show.
After a fifteen-minute intermission, followed by the dramatic final half, the performance ends, and the dancers receive a standing ovation.
I make my way to the lobby with Jen and Ethan, where the dancers have come out to mingle with their adoring public. Grace's smile consumes her whole face as soon as she sees us.
"You were brilliant, darling," Jen says, pulling her into a hug.
“Thank you,” Grace says. “I’m so glad you guys came.”
Her eager gaze lands on me, awaiting my reaction.
“Jen’s right,” I tell her. “You were amazing.”
She beams.
Jasmine’s parents come over to congratulate Grace on a job well done. Grace introduces us. Apparently the Hills were Calvin and Evelyn’s friends. I can tell Jasmine’s mother is curious as to why Calvin never mentioned me. Luckily, they can’t chat for long.
“What are your plans for the rest of the evening?” I ask the girls after Jasmine’s parents have left.
“I’m not sure,” Grace says. “My mother used to take Jas and me out to dinner to celebrate, so I guess we’ll get food?”
Her smile falters. The urge to wrap my arms around her nearly overtakes me.
I scrub a hand through my hair. "Well, I figured your feet would be killing you after tonight’s performance, so I had Jen book you two an after-hours private pedicure treatment at the nearby spa."
“Really?” Jasmine’s smile widens.
