Page 123 of Fighting Fate

Was it ever meant to be?

His words still haunt me. "You got what every girl wants, didn't you, Milli Girl?" It feels like my heart shatters all over again.

But I need to remember, I am strong. I won't let his words define me.

Wyatt steps in front of me, snapping me back to the present. "Alright, beautiful, what's on your mind?" He drops his bag nonchalantly and grabs my hand, pulling me to stand with him.

"Smooth move, am I right?" His wink is enough to draw out a laugh from me. Imagine Wyatt, in his spandex shorts, a flashy tank top, and hip-hop shoes, oozing confidence and style.

I shake my head, still smiling, but the smile fades as he loosens his grip, allowing me space. He gently lifts my chin, our eyes connecting. "Milli Sutton, are you letting someone else's problems steal your happiness?" he asks.

Is that what I've been doing?

My eyes flick away from his searching look as he says, "Remember, I swore one day I'd get to the bottom of what's been bugging you."

Wyatt's waiting for me to say something, but my mind's racing. What if Miles just keeps falling? What if he vanishes from my life for good?

The mere thought squeezes my heart, and a tear slips down my cheek.

However, Brooke's advice rings in my ears, a reminder not to get lost in all this chaos. And yet, here I stand, betraying my own vow, utterly absorbed by Miles' problems.

Wyatt senses my distress and pulls me closer. "How about we dance it out?" he suggests.

Is this his way of drawing me back into the world of dance, of helping me let go of Miles' hold on my mind, even just for a moment?

As he leads me onto the dance floor, his hand playfully slaps my ass. I chuckle, a part of me comparing it to Miles' touch, but then I stop myself.

This isn't about Miles.

And my brain finally gets it—about time. This moment? It's all mine for the taking. A chance to rediscover myself amid the chaos.

As Wyatt and I glide across the dance floor, effortlessly matching each other's steps, a moment of separation has us glancing at our reflections in the mirror. In that instant, a jolt of realization strikes me—it's time for things to change.

Our dance continues, and I'm drawn to the little things—how Wyatt's movements mirror mine, the thrill of our spins. The mirror captures this seamless connection, a visual echo of our easy rapport.

This dance floor epiphany crystallizes something crucial: I need to end this semester on a high. With winter break looming and the spring semester around the corner, it's vital to finish my freshman year at NorthRidge with strength and positivity.

I'm chasing a sense of pride when I look back on this year. I envision a year-end gathering with my closest friends, sharing our achievements, and setting new goals for the upcoming year. I don't want their perception of my year to be clouded by a singular focus on a guy, whether he's a childhood crush or my best friend. I want to be remembered for more than that.

More importantly, I don't want the tough times and sadness to overshadow all the good moments. Watching Wyatt channel his inner Kevin Bacon, another epiphany strikes me: I need to reclaim my joy. If I've been encouraging Miles to keep pushing forward, it's time I heed my own advice. I need to shake off this funk and embrace the happiness I deserve.

"That's the way, Milli," Wyatt cheers, his encouragement acting like a balm to my burdened shoulders.

I shut my eyes, allowing the harmonious beat of our steps to anchor me. With every inhale and exhale, the dense fog of grief begins to clear. It's astonishing how dance, much like getting lost in the pages of a romance novel, offers an escape from the real world, tearing down walls and granting a momentary reprieve.

For now, Miles fades into the background of my thoughts. The music envelops me, each beat a step toward liberation. I can rise above the challenges weighing me down.

As Wyatt twirls me, the world becomes a blur of joy and motion. I can find happiness without Miles. I've done it before. When he was in college and I was still in high school, I carved out my own joy. Things were different then, but I made it work. I don't need a relationship or guy to be happy; maybe this is the universe's way of nudging me to let things unfold as they should.

Stepping out of the dance studio, will I still feel this happiness? I can't be sure. But one thing is clear: I have my own battles to fight, my own path to forge. It starts with getting back into dance practices with the Hanmann girls, helping them ace their upcoming competition.

Wyatt dips me, drawing out a smile that feels liberating, a stark contrast to my morning with Miles. His bear hug envelops me, and as I close my eyes, tears of relief and happiness trickle down my cheeks. "This is what you needed, Milli," he whispers.

And he's right. This is exactly what I needed.

Wyatt's words resonate within me, heralding a shift in perspective I know will extend beyond these walls.

"Honey, I get it, trust me. But sometimes, when you love something deeply, you have to let it go. If it returns, it's meant for you. If not, it was never yours to begin with."

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