I wish. But Vaughn would destroy my career before he’d watch me do what makes me happy, and I worry Mom might let him.
“What does Rome think?”
My eyebrows knit and my throat tightens at the thought of him.
“Don’t even try to deny it.” Rico shakes his head. “I see him picking you up from practice. You’re fucking him.”
“So then why does it matter what he thinks if that’s all it is?”
“Is it?” He lifts an eyebrow. “Is that all he is, Lili?”
I bite my tongue because we both know the truth. Rome is the slice of energy in my otherwise dull day. He’s the splash of color on my blank page.
I shake my head.
“Exactly.” Rico smiles. “This is the happiest I’ve seen you in years and the best I’ve seen you dance. He’s good for you, and you deserve it.”
He’s good in the worst ways because I know Rico is right, but it doesn’t make him and I any more possible. We’re having our fun, but Rome is even less likely to settle down in one spot than I am. And even if it hurts to think about it, I know him. The moment he finds someone else who catches his attention, he’ll move on.
“I wish that was enough.”
Two knocks come at the door before it swings open. Rico’s eyes dart over my shoulder, and his smile immediately falls.
I turn to see Mom walking into the room as the air is sucked out of it.
“On that note.” Rico walks up to me and holds my forearm, leaning close and giving me a hard look. “It can be enough if you let it. You’re stronger than you think, Lili.”
He squeezes my arms, and even after letting go, I still feel him.
Rico is the closest friend I’ve had since I started dancing. We’ve crossed paths in shows a number of times over the years, and since we were the opposite sex, there was never the competitive edge I felt from the other dancers.
While many of them looked at me like they were hoping I’d roll an ankle so they could take my spot, Rico stood beside me. He believed in me. He’s been there when I’ve been tired and bruised and defeated. Something his eyes remind me of as they remain locked on mine.
“See you tomorrow.” He leans in and kisses me on the cheek before brushing past Mom.
She walks in, not so much as looking at him as she circles me and takes the spot where he was standing in front of the mirror.
“How was the fitting?” Her fingers clutch the strap of her purse.
“Good.” I nod.
In the mirror I see my reflection beside her. And for the first time in as far back as I remember, I see a hint of myself in her. Because there’s something in her eyes I’m not sure I’ve ever seen before—a hint of sadness?
“Do you want to go to Paris?” Mom asks with a pinch between her eyebrows that’s unlike her.
I grab my jeans off the back of the chair and slip them on. “You heard that?”
“Some of it.”
I’m not sure what confuses me more, that Mom is asking or that she seems genuinely interested in my answer, when she never is. Mom has never asked me what I want to do next. She arranges, and I show up. But here she is with the strangest look in her eyes. One that makes me think she’s actually curious.
“I don’t know. I haven’t thought about it.”
It’s a lie. I’ve considered every option on the table for what my life could be after this performance. The problem is, each scenario I try on feels wrong because there’s only one thing that feels right.
You can’t have him.
“Well, it’s an option. Vaughn was hoping for something out of the country next, anyway. Spread your wings a little.” Mom rolls her shoulders back.