Page 48 of Poisoned Roses

TATIANA

I’m angry with Titus, but the thoughtful offer of the ride to work and the stop for breakfast almost makes me like him again.

Little gestures like that change my opinion of him and make it difficult to hold on to my anger. More than anything, I miss waking up beside him and hearing his deep husky voice whisperin my ear. I may hate the situation I’m in but for some reason my hatred doesn’t extend to him. Anger definitely, but not hate.

When I told him I was acting back in the interview, I prayed he didn’t realize I lied. I wanted to hurt him. To treat him with the same disdain he had treated me and to fight back. To show him I’m no pushover and to treat me with respect. I hope I made my point because despite what happened last night I miss him.

I head into the ballet and Rodion appears as if by magic and holds his hands up in prayer.

“Thank you, God. Tatiana, change and meet us in the studio. The show must go on, despite the latest circumstances.”

He doesn’t wait for my response and says over his shoulder, “Fyodor is Leo’s replacement.”

I smile at his retreating figure. Finally, something feels normal. Rodion, this place and the prospect of dancing. Fyodor is Leo’s understudy and we get along great. He has a wicked sense of humor and I have no cause to worry about him because he is engaged to Katya, who also happens to understudy me.

It is business as usual and I can forget about the outside world because today I get to dance again and I am ecstatic about that.

I head to my dressing room to change and it all comes back to bite me when I note it’s as I left it. Nadia hasn’t returned, which angers me. She must have fled with the ring, the temptation too great. I can only imagine how much it cost and it would set her up for life and yet if anything, I’m happy for her. I hope she succeeded and got away. That she sold the ring and will lead a contented life with the proceeds. Perhaps live my dream and buy a small house by the ocean and breathe freely again.

I cannot judge her and I don’t blame her, but I am allowed to miss her. Nadia was my only friend, and I will always be grateful to her for that.

So, I glance around and attempt to adjust to my new situation. Another assistant will be assigned to me in due course and we will continue. The tour begins next week and is exactly what I need right now and I try so hard to forget the one obstacle in the way of that.

My wedding.

The day passesin a flash and I have no time to stop for lunch. That is normal, not that I want to stop, anyway. I love to dance, adore it, desire it and crave it and after the past few days, I am ecstatic to be back doing what I love.

It’s as if a weight has shifted from my back and even Rodion appears contented with my performance, especially as I am dancing with a new partner, one that I don’t need to be concerned about touching me inappropriately or making lewd comments.

I don’t dwell on Leo much out of fear of what may have happened. I’m still not okay with that, and it haunts me when I allow it into my mind.

I’m not sure if it’s just me, but the entire company appears happier and I wonder about that, especially as one of our own died in such a horrific way.

At the end of the day, I make my way back to my dressing room, even passing a few giggles with one of the newer dancers. She hasn’t had time to hate me just yet. Not that I give them reason to. It’s just what happens when one dancer gets all the attention, no matter how good some of the other dancers are. Luck also has a lot to do with success and I’ve had my fair share of it and yet I worked damn hard to get here and nothing can take that away from me.

I even hum the music of my favorite dance as I push in through the dressing room door. Then my world stills and my good mood evaporates in seconds and is replaced by one of terror when I view the bouquet of white roses with one black one in the center waiting for me.

A prickle of fear runs through my veins when I note a small black box tied with white ribbon beside it.

The card propped up with the flowers reads.

You’re mine, and this gift is to remind you of that.

I’m not even sure why I lift the box from the table, my fingers shaking as I untie the white ribbon. It’s as if curiosity has overcome common sense and as I ease the ribbon away from the box and open the lid, I stumble back and retch onto the floor. Tears flow down my cheeks and mix with the vomit on the ground as my world explodes around me.

I can’t even look back at the ‘gift’ and with shaking fingers call the only person I trust in the world.

He answers immediately.

“Titus.”

My voice shakes and a loud sob accompanies my words, and he replies roughly, “What’s wrong?”

“Please–” I gasp as another wave of nausea hits me and as I vomit, I hear him growl, “Stay there, I’m on my way.”

As I drop the phone and stagger against the wall, my tears blind me as I fear the worst because lying in the black box, on a blood red cloth, is what I assume to be Nadia’s finger, still wearing the missing ring.

A bangon the door follows almost immediately, causing my heart to jump. I am terrified. It could be him. The stalker.

---