Page 74 of Rome: The Ballerina

When she disappeared, August stepped closer.

“Where are we headed, Balle?”

Koen remained quiet as he watched the hallway Aliza had just vanished down. He was studying. Analyzing.Doing Koen.

“To Andretti’s for a half hour. Leave the car running. I won’t be long.”

I closed my dressing room door and grabbed my water bottle. I chugged until it was empty and considered refilling it. Parched was an understatement. Fairly quickly, I decided to have water at the restaurant instead.

My Saint Laurentmules powered through the restaurant as my silk skirt swayed with each movement of mine. August matched my stride effortlessly. His legs were long and his steps were calculated. He knew where my feet would land before they landed.

“Aliza,” I said, nodding as I swiped my skirt underneath me so that it wouldn’t slide down when my butt touched the chair.

“You made it!” She cheered, bouncing in her seat.

“I did.” I chuckled, slightly moved by her cheerfulness.

Her spirit was bubbly. Her eyes were bright. Her body language was inviting.

“And so did you, handsome.”

She pushed her breasts into the air. Her eyes coated with lust. August sniggered, brushing his thumb across his nose.

“You ladies have fun. Thirty, Balle.”

“Thirty,” I repeated, letting him know that I wouldn’t need a second longer.

“How do you do it?” She whined as August left the table.

“Be around them all day without– testing it at least?”

“I’m not interested in testing anything or anyone, Aliza, not when I know exactly what I am searching for in a man. Why waste my time knowing it won’t be anything more than a disappointment or heartbreak?” I questioned. “Not because either of them aren’t worthy of someone and something special, but because I know exactly what I want and neither of them are it.”

Neither of them are him.

“And just like that, you summed up my situation,” she breathed out, taking a sip of her drink.

The water in front of me looked enticing, but I refrained from reaching for it.

“How so?” I asked, interested in what she meant.

“You’ve met my fiancé, Sac.”

I have… long before you introduced us.

“I have.”

“Well–” she paused, getting comfortable, “We’ve been engaged for three years. And, I can’t help but feel like we walked into this blindly, unsure of what we were getting ourselves into.He was safe. He’s always been safe for me. He’s been my best friend since we were children. Our mothers have been best friends since they were children.

“We didn’t bump into each other. We fell into each other, naturally,by default. Almost feels arranged. And, silently, I think we’ve both been waiting for the sparks. The unforgettable moments. The stars. The fireworks. And, they just aren’t there.”

She took another sip of her drink.

“Saint is so sure of himself. What he wants. His life’s plan. Everything. And, then, there’s me. I’m just trying to become the best ballerina Clarke has seen. Ya know? Our values don’t align and somehow I feel like it’s affecting our progress. Don’t get me wrong, I love him. I love him deeply. But not enough to follow his life’s plan and neglect mine.

“He’s traditional. He wants to bring in the money. Pay the bills. Take care of his woman. Marry her. Fill her with babies, little athletes. A small army of his little soldiers.

“Then, retire when they’re old enough to decide what sport they’ll be getting full scholarships to college for. Then, spend his life making sure they repeat the steps he’s taken. It was the same with his father.

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