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All day today.
I cued the music for my set and took up my position on my imaginary stage in the very room we’d passed the entire day. At this rate, I would only see the inside of my room, the sunroom, and the bar where I ate dinner both nights.
During the shoot, working on my laptop, taking calls from Eloise, my mind was sharp. Put a task in front of me and my brain attacked it, wore it down, peeled it back to the bone, ground it to pieces and tossed the powdery fragments into the wind.
When it came to my feelings, things got murky. I could barely identify them never mind figure out what to do with them.
Movement swept away the fog. Even in school, I found it nearly impossible to learn confined to a desk. In much the same way, dance invited my emotions to step forward and be counted.
As my body moved through the familiar routine, anxiety surfaced.
Brayleigh refused to come to the phone again.
I told myself not to expect too much from a toddler, but I knew my child. She was pissed. Maybe even hurt.
Her suffering hurt me.
And I missed my baby.
My mother’s words of warning rang through my head, and I wondered, not for the first time, if this thing I wanted for myself wouldn’t turn out to be the worst thing for Brayleigh.
Which would in turn be the worst thing for me.
Maeve’s wishes and warnings joined my mother’s, and if I stomped a little harder or spun a little faster, it was merely my heart attempting to outrun my head.
I’d give it a month. A month to settle down. Allow Brayleigh time to adjust. Allow myself time to adjust.
One month would bring us to mid-December, and I was scheduled to be off for two weeks around Christmas. If I had to look for a new job, I’d start then.
With a plan of attack in place, my mind wandered to the other problem. My crush on the unapproachable, unattainable, Ares.
Was he toying with me? Was I nothing more than a game?
Had he ever shown me his real self?
With all the changes and stresses in my life, could I afford to take the time and expend the energy to try to get to know him?
He was not what I wanted.
That wasn’t quite right. I wanted him. He enthralled me. But this hot and cold bullshit, I could do without.
I promised myself better than that. I deserved better than that.
I wanted a Lucky.
A Sean.
A Carlos.
Did I want it from Ares? How could I even know? All I knew of the man was his work and the few weirdly intense encounters we’d shared.
The warrior. The witch. The mother. The siren.
Did any of the women inside me condone this interest?
Probably not.
A wise woman would walk away. A wise woman wouldn’t settle for less than she deserved.
