another way?
Is that what she was searching for? Permission to stop trying so hard? Permission to stop striving for more? To fill her soul with peace—elusive peace?
And would she find any of those things here?
She lifted onto her toes and turned, catching a glimpse of her technically perfect lines in the mirror. She still looked exquisite.
But what if she turned away from the mirror? What would happen to her body then?
She shifted her stance and faced the back wall, then picked up the choreography again. She moved through the familiar steps, but without her own body to assess, she simply felt the music and let it flow through her.
It was as if her body connected to the music in a way it never had before. The piece was haunting and dark, meant to pull emotion from the audience, to tie them to a deep sense of loss. The creators had been clear this was not a feel-good ballet.
And yet, Charlotte rarely felt anything when she danced it.
Until now.
As she circled the studio, her mind wandered, landing her back with Julianna, with all the deep regrets she had about their friendship. She was haunted by her poor choices, her inability to put anything or anyone above herself. She hadn’t felt it before because she was still so consumed with her own wants and desires. She was still so consumed with proving she was the best.
Am I good enough yet?
But now? Now that she’d spent time in Julianna’s space, now that she realized the days for making it up to her friend were gone—she was struck by profound, unmatched sadness.
The grief she’d been shoving aside assaulted her, demanding her attention. The pain of her betrayal mixed with years of regret, soured by poor choices, choices to put dance above friendship, to put her desire to be the best above everything else—it all tormented her now, and for the first time, she used the movement to let herself feel it.
And as it intensified, so did the deep grief she’d been carting around on her back since the day she found out Julianna had died. The one person in the world who loved her unconditionally was gone.
How could she just be gone?
How could she exist in a world without Julianna’s love and acceptance? Because whether she succeeded or failed, Julianna’s opinion of her never changed. Her love never wavered. She never stopped being Charlotte’s biggest encourager, her best friend.
What would she have said if she knew Charlotte was the reason behind the event that drove her away from the ballet? Would that unconditional love still be hers?
She leapt wider, higher, farther than she ever had, and as she landed, something inside her snapped.
A heaviness settled on top of her, and for a moment, she couldn’t breathe. She’d betrayed her only friend. And maybe it had all worked out—maybe Julianna had gone on to live exactly the life she was meant to live.
But what if she hadn’t? What if there had been a different path—a path in the ballet, a path that could’ve kept her from driving on that country road at the exact moment another driver was preoccupied by his phone?
Would she still be here?
Had Charlotte stolen that from her?
She collapsed in a heap on the floor, the weight of her decisions, the secrets she’d kept, all too much to bear. The music played on as she struggled to catch her breath, tears streaming down her cheeks, pain welling up within her.
She’d yet to cry for Jules. She’d yet to cry for what she’d done. More than anything, she wanted to be absolved of her sin, but the one person who could’ve offered forgiveness was gone.
“Hey.” The voice sliced through the now-silent room as the song ended and in its place, only the sound of her quiet sobs remained.
She looked up and found Cole, standing in the doorway, brows drawn like the curtains at night as confusion hung on his face.
She turned away, wiping her cheeks dry. Had it already been two hours? Had she been so caught up in whatever had just happened she’d completely lost track of time?
“Sorry, I’m early,” he said. “I can go if . . .” He seemed unable to finish the sentence.
If you need more time to completely lose it.
She forced herself to stand. “No, I’m fine.”
She couldn’t think of anyone worse to have walked in at that precise moment. Surely he was thinking the same thing.
He took a step into the studio and she moved away, toward