I wanted to see if you’d dance for me.
I slowed in my steps, hearing his voice in my head.
But then I picked up the pace again and slid into a closed position doing several échappés in a row as I moved my arms.
You’ll hate me.
I’ll love you.
We have to stop. Make me stop.
I can’t. I won’t.
And pressure hit down low, between my legs and making my stomach dip. I opened my mouth, filling it with the same, silent cry as that morning he was arrested as I twirled and twirled, tears stinging my eyes and hoping to spin the world so fast I’d lose sight of him in my head.
But then I lost my footing, hitting a piece of furniture as my leg slammed into wood and a sharp pain shot up my shin.
“Shit!” I exclaimed.
“Winter!” Tara called out.
I snapped my eyes open and growled, stumbling as my hand came down on the piano to steady myself.
The bench. The damn piano bench. Did I miss the markers on the floor?
“Whoa, I gotcha,” a male voice suddenly shouted. “I’m coming.”
Ethan? When did he get here?
The music cut off, and I hunched over, squeezing my
leg as the shooting pain throbbed harder and harder. I winced, blowing out a long breath as footsteps scurried across the wooden floor.
“You’re bleeding,” he said, steadying me under my arm, while Tara took my hand. “Come here.”
“It’s okay,” I blurted out, shaking my head and pissed at myself. “I haven’t done that in ages. What the hell?”’
Distracted. That’s what I’d been.
“Sit her down,” Tara told Ethan. “I’ll go find the first aid kit.”
I limped, but pulled myself up straight. “It’s in the bathroom. I’ll be fine.”
“But you’re bleeding.”
“And I know how to operate a Band-Aid.” I laughed through the pain. “Go home. Ethan will help me. See you in a couple days.”
I heard a little sigh as she debated on whether or not to make sure I was okay, but she knew this wasn’t new for me. I’d gone through my fair share of Band-Aids.
“Thanks for your help tonight,” I told her, slipping out of Ethan’s hand to grab hold of his arm instead. “Later.”
After a moment, I heard the shuffle of her feet and belongings as she picked up her jacket and bag. “Well, have a good night, then. I’ll text you later, okay?”
I nodded, guiding Ethan toward the direction of her voice to follow her out the door and toward the bathroom. He tried to put an arm around me, but I waved him off.
We pushed through the doors—Tara veering left to the exit and us heading right, toward the stairs.
“How long have you been here?” I asked him as we descended to the lower level.