She exhaled, and I smoothed my hand down her arm in comfort. “After Kia died, I thought about finding him again but decided I couldn’t … and then sometime in the last eight years, I stopped wanting to know. He could’ve abandoned my mom, for all I knew. Maybe he never knew we existed, or … there are so many possible reasons this man has never been a part of my life. And I don’t need to know anymore.
“Maybe it’s being surrounded by you all and how you’ve made a family without parents. I just … the truth is, it hurt for a long time not knowing my father. I think my heart decided it was hurting enough over the people I’d lost and that I didn’t need to waste that pain on someone I never knew.”
I drew her down to press my lips to hers. Soft, comforting. “You amaze me, Eredine Willows.”
I felt her smile against my mouth, and I swear to God, it made my heart swell to three times its size. When she again settled beside me, my gaze moved across the room to where she’d tied the ribbons of her ballet shoes on the handle of the closet.
They were no longer hidden.
A few days ago, I’d walked into her bedroom and spotted them there. Just like I’d worried about her birth father, I was concerned Ery was missing something she needed to be totally happy. “How long has it been since you danced?”
She stiffened against me. “Uh, why do you ask?”
“Just curious.”
“It’s been awhile. It’s … I tried a few years ago. I put on my pointe shoes and let myself into my studio on the estate after hours. But every time I was about to move, I felt afraid. And alone.”
Everything rebelled inside me at the thought of Eredine ever feeling lonely or scared. An idea formed, and I blurted it before I could think, “Take me with you.”
“What?” She lifted her head again, expression confused.
“Let’s go. Now. To the studio. You can dance again, and I’ll be there, so you’re not afraid or alone.”
Her beautiful eyes grew wet. “You’d do that?”
“Of course.” I’d do anything for you.
Ery looked over at the shoes. “What if … what if my body has forgotten how?”
“It probably has forgotten a little, gorgeous, but muscle memory is a powerful thing. It’ll come back to you. And I’ll be there.”
She was silent so long, I was about to reassure her there was no pressure—and then she whispered, “Okay. Let’s try.”
That was when I knew she missed dancing. Such quick capitulation to the idea.
I hated that she’d given up something that had obviously been so vital to her, and I wondered if anyone other than Lachlan and Mac even knew Eredine was once a ballerina?
“C’mon.” I kissed her nose and then slid out of bed to get ready to accompany her to the estate.
* * *
The guards at the gate knew me and Ery well enough that they didn’t question it when she said she’d left something she needed at the studio. We drove through the dark woodlands and out onto the estate. The sprawling, manicured lawns were also a golf course. Solar lanterns provided a dim light, leading us toward the castle. Lights along the castle’s exterior cast an eerie, warm glow up the sandstone brick walls.
When I visited the home I’d grown up in, it sometimes felt like our childhood had been part of another life entirely. We’d never thought it strange that we grew up in a damp old castle until we got a little older and people seemed fascinated by that fact.
Ery parked, drawing my focus back to her, and we got out to make the ten-minute walk to her studio. It could only be reached via a path that led toward Loch Ardnoch where the studio and staff residential cabins were situated.
More solar lanterns illuminated the way around the loch. Lights were on in the staff cabins beyond, and we tried to keep our footsteps as quiet as possible on the gravel surrounding Ery’s studio. She let us in and switched on the lights.
It was basically a rectangular box with a few skylights. The wall overlooking the loch was entirely glass, the perfect space for yoga and Pilates and mindfulness. Floor-to-ceiling mirrors that had been replaced after they were destroyed during Fergus and Lucy’s harassment took up the wall opposite the entrance. A door in the corner led to Ery’s private changing and shower room.
Stuffing my hands in my jeans pockets, I waited, my pulse racing as I watched her nervously take off her jacket and then sit to pull her ballet shoes out of her handbag. Ery wore calf-length black leggings and a T-shirt knotted at the waist.
“You all right?” I asked, my words loud in the empty studio.