His Love

But that’s the thing. Luke had never promised anything. He was a powerful CEO having a physical fling with a young ballerina, one who’d willingly offered her body and soul. The alpha had never promised more, he’d never said that I was his “girlfriend,” his “lady friend,” or even that we were just plain “friends.” I was his employee, a junior member of the corps whose body he happened to enjoy. It was me who’d been dumb.

And the realization made me sob all over again. I was lost without Mr. Lyons, completely devastated, like a piece of driftwood bobbing aimlessly on the ocean. What would I do without Luke? How would I piece together my life after it’d been blasted into smithereens?

My mind spun crazily. There was Mom’s idea about the ballet school out here in rural Kansas, but I couldn’t possibly. I couldn’t possibly dance again without my heart breaking, Luke had taken that from me. And my soul collapsed again so that I keeled over completely, face buried in my knees, wracked with sobs.

“Shhh,” consoled my mom, her wizened hand stroking my curls again. “Shh, baby it’s not so bad.”

Not so bad? It was fucking terrible, my life was a complete disaster. I had no money, I had no prospects, and the man I loved had treated me like shit, disrespecting what we had together. How could things be worse? The howls burst from my throat in ragged yelps, my pain and sorrow ripping out our eardrums.

Except then came a dinging sound. Even through the horrible ruckus, a slight chime could be heard.

“Sorry baby,” sighed Mary, heaving herself to her feet. “Let me see what this is about. I’ll be right back.”

Her pudgy form disappeared and I was left alone for a moment in the silence of the living room. Sniffling, I looked around. God, how different this was from Luke’s apartment! The faded flower wallpaper was peeling at the edges, the furniture from the seventies, while Luke lived in a palace with perfectly matched sofas and artwork.

But the voice in my head piped up then. So what? It said scornfully. That stuff was never yours. You were an interloper, a girl there for a few short weeks, a month max. You didn’t belong there.

And choking back sobs again, I nodded. Because my subconscious was right. I was a poor student who’d been whisked from my station in life for one heavenly month. It’d been one magnificent month with the man of my dreams, a handsome alpha so powerful and commanding, that I’d given it all up. But that was the thing. I was a visitor to that world, and it was Luke’s world, not mine. I didn’t belong there. And now that the fairytale had ended, I was back in my real home, with the fake-wood walls and saggy roof.

But there are more important things than living in a castle. At least I had my health, I had my mom, and I had skills. Maybe it would hurt to dance for a while, but realistically, it’s the only thing I know how to do. So somehow, I had to pull myself out of this depression. Somehow, I’d have to do it on my own, without Luke.

I sat up, taking a deep breath, trying to get my sobs under control. The air in my lungs stung, like they were filled with peppermint, but at least they weren’t convulsing in agony anymore. I’d be alright. I would make it work somehow.

The sound of footsteps interrupted my thoughts, and I turned, expecting to see Mary again. But the person who stepped into the light made me cringe because it was Miss Lane. Yes, Miss Lane, here in Kansas, far from the hubbub of NYC.

“Hi Kitty,” was her sneered greeting.

I stood immediately, trying to smooth my hair in place, wiping furtively at my red eyes. But there was no way to hide that I’d been crying, the bird’s nest that was my hair.

“Hi-hi,” I stammered. “Why are you here?” I asked. “This is so far from New York, don’t you have classes to teach?”

The woman looked around the room disdainfully, eyes taking in the faded and peeling wallpaper, the saggy furniture.

“So this is where you’re from,” she said contemptuously. “I always knew the new girls were trash.”

I goggled at her. Had I really heard her right? Our house isn’t nice, I know that, but still. Mary had worked long and hard to provide for us, and I wasn’t going to have some snooty woman insult my mom.

“Miss Lane,” I began, voice hard.

But Mary interrupted, her eyes telling me to be quiet.

“Miss Lane,” she said hurriedly. “I’m so glad you came to see my daughter. It’s because you want her back right? The Academy needs Kitty to dance, and you know what? Kitty’s had a change of heart. She wants to perform. This was all a big mix-up, she wants to go back with you. Kitty, get your stuff,” my mom said, eyes telling me to move. “Get your stuff and go with this nice lady.”