The Swan and The Sergeant - Alana Albertson Page 0,31

feelings came back. I wanted to kiss her but held back.

Was it just nostalgia? Something more? Why did she get to me? It wasn’t just looks. She was truly the most beautiful woman in the world. But I knew the girl underneath the extensions, the makeup, the fillers. The only thing I didn’t know was if I’d ever truly stopped loving her.

Selena

After Bret held me the other night, I had hoped that he would ask me out.

But he hadn’t.

I wouldn’t have been able to see him anyway—I had plans.

Dima was coming to visit.

I took an Uber to the San Francisco airport to meet Dima. He would be judging at the competition, so he didn’t come just to see me. I was halfway to the terminal to greet Dima before I realized that I needed to use the bathroom. Darn. I looked at my watch. I was late again. Busting left, I cut around a corner and made a beeline to the restrooms. I ducked into the ladies’ room, freshened up, then dashed back out again, making a left in front of the men’s room—running smack into two guys making out.

“Oh! Sorry, guys,” I mumbled and looked down at my feet, shielding my face from embarrassment. “I totally wasn’t looking.”

“No worries,” I heard. His buddy cracked up, and they ran into the men’s room, covering their faces.

No worries?

I know that voice!

I whipped my head back for a look—and saw Eric and some man plowing through the restroom door. Not that I’d needed to see him; I knew Eric’s voice when I heard it. Eric, as in Nicole’s husband.

Good God! The couple with the only perfect ballroom marriage.

He must’ve been in town for the competition. Where was Nicole? I practically stumbled to the baggage claim, thinking of what I’d just seen.

Eric kissing a guy? Nicole would totally freak out if she knew. Or…maybe she did know. Oh, God, that was not possible, was it? They were Cinderella and Prince Charming. They were champions and had a family.

I needed a drink. I scanned the baggage claim for Dima. No sign of him. Good, I had to process what had just happened.

But this just further strengthened my belief that there were no healthy relationships in the ballroom world.

And I had pushed the desire to be loved away for so long. But I yearned for it now.

The only men I’d ever been with in my entire life were Dima and Bret. Even though Dima and I weren’t involved, Dima seemed to think that we would end up together. And though I didn’t have any romantic feelings toward him anymore, I felt bound to him. We had joint ownership in dance studios, a clothing line, even endorsement opportunities for fitness products.

Once, it had been all I’d ever dreamed of—ballroom dance, love everlasting, the whole pretty package until Dima dumped me. But now I knew in my soul that it was an unrealistic fantasy that I wanted no part in.

I needed to let Dima know that I was closing the door forever on us.

“Selenichka.” Dima greeted me with a kiss on the cheek and a dozen red roses.

Roses? Of course, he brought me roses. He could sense that I was over his manipulation of me and was trying to woo me back. I wouldn’t let him.

Dima was definitely trying to woo me. He was dressed in his finest Armani suit. But I would not fall for his charms.

I thanked him for the flowers. “Do you know if Eric and Nicole are going to be at the competition?

“Only Eric. He was on plane together with me and his student. He’s judging. Nicole is home in Los Angeles, with the baby. Why you ask?”

“No reason. I just thought I saw him.”

We made our way to the curb. A limo Dima had hired whisked us away from the airport.

He tried to put his arm around me, but I pulled away. Dima was unfazed. “Selenichka, this is going to be great weekend.”

He had made reservations at my favorite restaurant my favorite vegan restaurant. I ate my weight in hummus, and not once during dinner did Dima make a comment about sticking to my diet. We even drank a rich bottle of Pahlmeyer merlot.

After dinner, we strolled around Fisherman’s Wharf. We were recognized by some fans and happily signed a few autographs. But on this night, I wanted Dima all to myself.

We needed to have a talk. The talk.

We made our way to Ghirardelli and ordered huge mugs of hot chocolate and