Page 95 of You're the Reason

“Yup.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t immediately believe you. But as soon as?—”

“I get it. You’ve been burned before. Don’t worry about it.” His voice softened. “Did you get the part?”

The part? Oh, Giselle. Madame Laurent’s words rang in her mind. “You have lost your heart.” No kidding. “I got a part.”

“I knew you would. I’m sure you’ll do great. Best of luck to you, Grace.” Then his voice dropped lower. “You were made to dance.”

Why was he saying goodbye? Why wouldn’t he listen to her?

“Seth.” The desperation in that one word was way more telling than she intended, but this couldn’t be it. “Will you...” Forgive me? Give me another chance? Ever trust me again? “... come to see me dance?”

He hesitated a long moment before his voice came through rough. “I’ll try. Goodbye, Grace.”

The line went dead. He wouldn’t come. That had been a final goodbye. She imagined the despair if she were in a cell, wrongly imprisoned, and the people she trusted most assumed she was lying. She hadn’t immediately believed him and had left him standing alone. And it seemed he’d never forgive her for that.

She slipped the phone in her bag and walked back down the hall. When it rang a moment later, she yanked it out, but it was just her parents. She sank onto a nearby bench and accepted the call. “Hey.”

“Darling.” Her mother’s voice was lighter than it had been in a long time. “About the show tonight?—”

“I’m in the chorus.” Her voice didn’t crack. It didn’t betray any emotion. The whole thing felt like an out-of-body experience. When there was no response, she tried again. “Did you hear me? I won’t be Giselle tonight, I’m in the chorus.”

A pause and then her father’s voice came over the line. “Absolutely not. This is unacceptable. I won’t let you take it.” Of course, she was on speakerphone.

She sank forward on her knees. “That’s my decision, not yours.”

“What reason did she give?” Her mother again, but the lightness in her tone was gone.

“That I lost my heart.”

“It was that boy.” Her mother nearly spat the words.

“He’s not a boy.” She stood and paced to the opposite wall and back. “He’s a man. An innocent man at that.”

Her father’s voice broke in again. “I looked up a few other dance companies that?—”

“I’m staying. I’m dancing in the chorus.” She’d planned on thinking about it more, but what was there to think about? She wasn’t going back to Heritage. Not if Seth was there, because he didn’t want her. Besides, what choice did she have?

“Would you rather have nothing?”

That was exactly what she’d have. Because without ballet she had nothing. And she was no one.

“You are more than a ballerina.” Seth’s words rolled over her.

Maybe he’d believed that at one time, but this brief conversation put that idea to rest. She had failed him, and he was done with her.

She would dance the chorus, forget the past month had ever happened, and just maybe convince Madame Laurent she was ready for center stage by the fall show. “I’m not going back to Heritage, or anywhere else.”

“Don’t expect us to go to that show tonight.”

“I don’t. Believe me, I don’t.” And for some reason the words just sort of released a knot inside of her. “I actually don’t need you to go to any of my shows. It’s your choice. I need to go. I need to let Madame Laurent know I’m taking the part.”

She ended the call and looked back at Madame Laurent’s office door. She still didn’t know how long she’d dance but... she’d dance today. She was no longer dancing for her parents. And in the chorus, she wasn’t dancing for fame. Maybe it was time to dance for God and for the love of dance He’d given her.

Seth sat for a long timeinthe grass with the open envelope in onehand and a blue-and-red ribbon in the other. He didn’t move. He could barely breathe. He might as well be one of the gravestones he sat among.

His eyes lingered on the photo clipped to the top of the document bearing the same name as the marble grave marker in front of him.

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