Just Like Home - Courtney Walsh Page 0,112

Cole woke up nervous. Not only because he had to go on stage that night, but also because it had been hours since Charlotte walked out of rehearsal and the only word he’d gotten from her was a text late last night that said:

Hey, I’ll be tied up with last-minute details all day tomorrow, but I’ll see you at the theatre later.

He was worried about her.

That worry, mixed with his nervous energy, turned Cole into a giant mess—and he had a whole day on his own.

A knock on the front door pulled his attention.

Maybe Charlotte had some time for him after all. He pulled the door open, and it was Gemma—not Charlotte—who stood there.

“Hey,” she said.

“Hey.”

“You look good,” she said. “You always look great fresh out of the shower.”

He didn’t respond.

“Look, I came to thank you for what you said the night of the fair. You didn’t have to be nice to me, but you were, and I appreciate it. A lot.”

“’Course,” he said.

She clung to the bag hanging off her shoulder, as if she needed it to stand upright. “I wanted to also tell you that I took your advice.”

He frowned. “About what?”

“About Max. I ended it. For real this time.”

Cole didn’t respond.

“I know what I did to you was wrong, and I hope you meant it when you said you forgave me. I’m going to try to spend some time alone for a while. Get myself right. Maybe we could even be friends again someday.”

“That’d be good,” he said, shocked to discover that his animosity toward her had melted away. It wasn’t an act. He’d forgiven her. Out of her own brokenness, she’d hurt him, but he’d finally gotten to the place where he could put it behind him.

Once and for all.

“I’m going back home,” Gemma said. “To Ohio. I’ll stay in touch if that’s okay.”

“Yeah,” he said. “I hope you do.”

She stood on her tiptoes and kissed him on the cheek. “She’s a lucky girl, Cole Turner.”

He smiled. “I’m the lucky one.”

“Well, I wish you guys the best,” Gemma said. “I mean it.”

“Thanks, Gemma.”

He closed the door, surprised by the strange turn of events that this summer had brought. He’d not only rid himself of his anger toward his ex-wife, he’d let go of his inherited feelings about women. In looking at Asher’s situation and now this ordeal with Gemma, he finally understood. People are broken. And when they’re broken, they hurt the ones they love. He’d made peace with that. All he could do now was put the hurt behind him.

Charlotte made him want to be the best version of himself, and he was pretty sure he’d love her till the day he died.

Which, if nerves could kill, might be that very night.

The backstage area of the theatre bustled with excitement and energy. Tiny ballerinas wearing white tutus ran around as if they were playing tag at recess.

Cole wore a tux that threatened to choke off his oxygen supply, and as he watched the audience filter in, he backed into the shadows, afraid he might be sick.

And then he saw her.

Beautiful, graceful, elegant Charlotte Page. She stepped onto the opposite side of the stage, wearing the red dance costume he’d seen in one of her videos. She’d had this costume and two others sent to her from Chicago, but he hadn’t been prepared to see her like this, in her element.

Her lips were bright red, her hair pulled back in a bun reminiscent of the one she’d worn the day he met her on the street. And her eyes shone bright and full of promise.

He loved her. More than he’d ever loved anyone before.

He’d tell her tonight, after his dance with Amelia, assuming he was still breathing.

Charlotte had been scarce all day. He’d only seen her briefly when he arrived and not since he’d gotten dressed in his tuxedo. He missed her.

How pathetic had he become that he couldn’t go a handful of hours without missing this woman?

Her solo would kick off the whole recital. They’d had two rehearsals in the theatre earlier that week, but she’d never performed her pieces in front of anybody, and thankfully she’d ensured that he and Amelia didn’t have to either.

But standing here now, watching her get her “game face” on, he was taken with her beauty, her strength, her talent. And he wondered if she regretted giving up her spot in the ballet.

Maybe that’s why the article upset her so much. It made her unsure of her choice.

As the

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