“Mom.” I rub my temples to the ease the ache already building. “I’m not pregnant.”
“Did you take a test?”
“No. I don’t have to take a test to know I’m not.” I pause, trying to decide if I should anything. “I’m infertile.”
“What?” She stands up and walks over to me. “You are twenty years old, how could you even know that?”
“After my last flare, I was in the ER and asked the doctor if this is something I would have to worry about passing onto my kids. He said no, because it’s not genetic and then added that most women diagnosed young can’t conceive a child anyway. Then I asked my specialist, and he said the same thing.”
“Oh, honey.” She sits down and pulls me into a hug, and for the first time in years, I let her. “I’m so sorry.”
The unexpected comfort of her arms around me and the warmth of the sun must melt that ice cold heart in my chest because, all of a sudden, a torrent of tears start falling from my eyes. I sit there, wrapped in my mom’s arms, and cry.
I cry for the loss of the future I wanted. I cry because I’m so scared of what the future holds for me that sometimes I can’t breathe. I just lock all those feelings away deep inside, unable to confront them. I cry because the amount of love I feel from my mom in this moment is overwhelming. I cry because I love my nieces so much, but I’m so heartbroken at not being able to have children that holding them feels like the most exquisite torture. I cry because I love Griff with every single fiber of my being, but it’s not fair to tie him to dying a woman. My life feels like death by a thousand cuts. I have no control anymore.
Mom cries with me. We sit together on the hot marble bench, in her beautiful flower bed, crying in the harsh summer sun. Eventually I hear Friday come over. She sits on the other side of me and wraps her arms around me too.
20
GRIFF
I waited until the last possible moment to take my seat in the theater. I bought front row balcony tickets for every single performance. I don’t plan to miss one moment of Claire dancing her dream on stage.
The lights flash, announcing that the show will start in two minutes. I sit and look down at the box seats. A pang hits my chest when I see Con, Lilith, Levi, and Ivy sitting down there together. There’s an empty seat that I know would be mine if I hadn’t betrayed Con’s trust.
As uncomfortable as that ache is, it’s nothing compared to the gut punch I feel when Claire dances out onto the stage. Her costume is a sparkly black leotard, tights, and black pointe shoes. She explained to me once how she does modern ballet, a mix of contemporary dance and classical ballet.
I’m breathless watching her move across the stage. Her passion bleeds all over the floor, a final act for a career cut far too short. She dances like she’s going to war because she is. War against her body. War against time. I feel the indescribable tug of our connection, a calling from her soul to mine, to stand at her side and battle her demons together.
There is no way forward for us that doesn’t include she and I being together. A plan forms in my mind as I continue to watch her. I pay the other dancers zero attention as I plot; they might as well not even be on stage with her. I know exactly how I’m going to get her back.
The first act flies by, and as the lights come up and people stand to stretch their legs or use the restroom, I stay rooted in my spot. I refuse to miss a second of this. I’m thumbing through the program when I see an advertisement for a fundraising gala following the final performance. It says all the dancers will be in attendance. With that one glance, my plan falls perfectly into place.
I continue to watch Claire dance for the next two acts with rapt attention. Occasionally Friday’s red hair will pull attention enough to watch and appreciate her skill, but my eyes always go right back to Claire. The effortless grace she moves with is truly awe-inspiring. I know how hard she’s worked for this, and I’ve never been prouder of another human being in my life.
I’m so glad I kept the wall of protection I built for her well-maintained even after she attempted to ruin us. Last week, one of our gossip reporters was approached with a story, mostly false but with enough truth to be damaging, about Claire. We bought it and trashed the story. The best part, though, is that I now know who was trying to sabotage her.
That dancer, Avery Weaver, will be arrested tonight after the police find her with enough cocaine to charge her with several felonies. Kent, the asshole choreographer, will end up ensnared in the investigation, too. Such a shame to see two promising careers come crashing down.
After the final round of applause, including a ridiculously inappropriate catcall from Levi, the dancers move back behind the curtain, and the audience stands to exit. I hang back a second, allowing my friends time to exit. I still haven’t spoken with Con, and this is definitely not the place to have that inevitable altercation.
I’m one of the last to leave, but there is still quite the crowd on the street. I texted my driver and told him I’d meet him a block or two over to avoid the gridlock. A black-on-black Range Rover screeches to a stop next to the sidewalk I’m on. I know exactly who it is and steel myself for what I think will be a punch. Instead, I am pulled into the vehicle by my arm.
A pair of angry, cold green eyes stare back at me when I look up. Then, I look into the front seat and see Levi with a guarded look on his face. Connor tells his driver my address. I shoot a text off to my driver telling him that I caught a ride and he can head home.
No one says anything on the drive to my apartment. The tension in the car is rising with every passing second. Levi is getting fidgety and already has his suit jacket and tie off. Con’s sitting beside me in black on black on black, looking dangerous. If I didn’t know him as well as I do, I’d probably be worried for my safety.
When we finally get into my apartment, Levi goes straight to the bar and pours himself a drink. I turn to Con and get ready to square off. His jaw is set, and his hands are already fisted. I can feel him struggling with control. I’ve already come to terms with the fact that I’ll be punched at least once. I’m not going to be the first to talk though, he pulled me off the street. He can go first.
“Why were you there tonight?” he asks.
“Where else would I be?”
“Hiding like a little bitch. Like you have been the past few weeks.”
Levi tips his head back and groans, obviously already irritated with the antagonistic tone. He throws back the rest of his whiskey before going back for more.
“I was giving everyone space. A chance to cool off before reaching out.”
“Really? It feels more like you were just being a coward, hiding at Mommy and Daddy’s house.”
“Fuck’s sake, Con. Don’t be a dick.” Levi snaps.
“News flash, pretty boy, I am a dick.” He turns his attention back to me. “You fucked my sister.”
“I fell in love with your sister.”
“Then where have you been? She’s crying. She misses you. She’s not okay.”
“She looked me in the eyes, after I publicly confessed my love for her, and said that what we had was just sex and a favor.” I tap my chest with my hand. “How the fuck do you think that felt?”
Con stares over my shoulder, refusing to acknowledge my feelings because if he does that, he has to let go of some of his anger.
“I’ll tell you how it felt. It felt like she reached into my chest, grabbed ahold of my heart, and squeezed it until it shattered. Then she doubled down and walked all over the pieces. I feel empty. Like there is a Claire-size void in my fucking soul.”
I can feel Con soften just a tiny bit. “No more lies, Griff. How long was this going on? Because what you are saying and what she says doesn’t exactly line up.”
I wish I knew what she had told everyone. I don’t want to throw her under the bus, but I can’t keep lying either. “The first night anything happened was a just a kiss. The day you and Lilith got engaged.”
Con’s eyes widen with surp
rise. “It’s been going on for a year?” he yells.
“No, not really. Nothing happened after that kiss until your wedding. We slept together and said that it would be one night.” I run my hand through my hair. “And it remained a one-time thing until I moved back to the city. Then she came to me for help.”
“You took advantage of that, didn’t you?” he scoffs.
“No, the attraction and pull to each other was equally strong for both of us. We tried to fight it, tried to keep it platonic, but we couldn’t.”
“Why Claire though?”
“I don’t know. I’ve watched you and Levi with Lilith and Ivy growing into these amazing couples. Having partners in life, being happy and fulfilled. It just grew between us organically.”
“Jealousy doesn’t excuse the fact that you lied. You broke our code.”
“It’s not jealousy. I love that you guys are happy. I love Lilith and Ivy like sisters. I just didn’t know it was something I wanted until I had it. I didn’t know I had the drive to be in a conventional relationship.”
“I just keep coming around to the fact that you slept with my sister. My BABY sister. How did you think this was ever going to be okay?”
“I knew it wasn’t, but I love her. I am in love with her. If it comes down to choosing between you or her, I’m picking her. Every single time, I will pick her. I will pick her when she doesn’t think she’s worthy because she’s the single most worthy human being I have ever known. I will pick her when she doesn’t choose me because I don’t think I will ever, ever find someone else who fits me so perfectly.”
Con deflates at that proclamation. He looks to Levi, who is looking back forth between us, more relaxed than before but still ready to intervene if necessary. Con looks back at me with a look of resignation.
“I can’t believe I’m about to say this, but if that’s really how you feel. If you really love her enough to choose her over us, then I can’t begrudge you that.” He holds his fist out, and I bump it with my own. “But I swear to fucking God if you tie her up and slap her around with your kinky shit, I will beat you bloody.”
“Same,” Levi pipes in. “None of that kinky shit for Baby V.”
I don’t know how to respond to that because ‘too late’ seems like a bad thing to say at this juncture. “Do you guys want to know who’s been harassing her?” Changing the subject always works.
“Yes,” Con says, walking over to sit on the couch.
Levi pours us all some more whisky while I start going through all the details of what I’ve found. The person who contacted us to sell a story about Claire. About how Kent is always touching Claire inappropriately. The verbal harassment he specifically targets toward her. I tell them about the camera I have on Claire’s bag. I’m glad that she hasn’t moved it even though she knows I can see her. I’ve held onto that as a tiny seed of hope.
“So tonight, Avery is going to be found with a significant amount of cocaine. Kurt, the choreographer, will be with her.” I knock back the two fingers of whiskey Levi had poured for me.
“Karma is a bitch.” Con salutes me with his whiskey. “Cheers to protecting what’s ours.”
“I’m glad you two scary fucks are my friends,” Levi says with a shake of his head before tossing his whiskey back.
“So,” Con leans back casually against the couch, “how are you going to get my sister back?”
“I actually have a plan for that.” I mirror his relaxed position on the couch, loving the feeling of having my best friends back in my life with no secrets between us. I smirk as I start discussing my plan with them, taking their suggestions into account.
Every night I go to watch Claire dance. Sometimes she looks up at the balcony, and I swear I can feel her inside me. Her body looks strong, but her eyes have this dull look to them, like the fire has been extinguished from them.
Her movements are precise and clean. She never hesitates. She hits every leap, turn, and lift like it’s as easy as breathing.
Con filled me in on how hard she was pushing herself in the weeks leading up to the show, so I’m not surprised she’s doing everything so well. I do find it as concerning as he does that she was working so hard she was making herself sick. In our months together, that never happened.
Con and Victor have already formed a medical research and development team to begin looking into possible treatments for MS. None of us have ever been happier to have ridiculous amounts of money. We can fund massive amounts of research without breaking a sweat, especially with our resources pooled.
Tomorrow night is the charity gala. I’ve already personally dropped off a large six-figure donation for the endowment. I requested Claire’s table, but that I remain anonymous. After tomorrow night, she won’t have a doubt that regardless of how hard she pushes me away, I will always come right back for her.
21
CLAIRE
I zip my dress for the gala up in a garment bag and drape it over my arm as I leave my apartment. We all have to get ready in the dressing room following the end of the final show. Today, there’s a matinee and evening performance. I’m going to be so tired at the end of the night from dancing and then schmoozing.
I’m surprised to find Con waiting in the hall as I come out of my front door.
“I thought I’d ride with you over to the theater, just to keep you company.” He takes my bags from me.
“Yeah, that’s fine.” I walk beside him down the hall to the elevator.
“How are you feeling? About the last day of exhibition?” he adds quickly.
“It’s bittersweet, you know? I’m sad that it’s my last day to ever dance a lead role on a stage this big, but surprisingly, I’m okay.” We step on the elevator. “I’m tired Con, much more tired than I should be at my age and in this healthy of a body.”
“I’m sorry it’s ending so soon for you, but I think you’ll find a new passion to follow. Something that doesn’t consume all your energy and put your body through so much stress.”
“You’re right, I’ve finally come to accept it. I’ve come to accept a lot of things over the past few weeks.” Like the fact that I let Griff go and I’ve never regretted a decision more than I do that one.
I haven’t talked about Griff to Con at all. It’s like the elephant in the room. I don’t know if he’s even spoken to him since the wedding. I hate that I caused a rift between them. I’ve been tempted to say something several times, but I always lose my nerve. It feels like it would be opening Pandora’s Box to bring it up, and I don’t want to risk upsetting the balance we have going on.
We step off the elevator and get right into the car with Marco. We chat a little bit, and Con compares fatherhood notes with him. I block out the parenthood chatter; it’s another thing I still haven’t told my brother or sister-in-law. I don’t want them to feel weird around me, especially because I know they want to have at least one more.
“So, tonight we’ll all be at the gala.”
“That’s great. Thanks for supporting me.”
“Of course. Have you informed them today will be your final performances?”
“Yes. I gave them a letter of withdrawal yesterday as I left the theater. Just in case they were going to give me any recognition at the gala tonight.”
“Any recognition given would be recognition earned.”
“Maybe.”
We pull up in front of the theater and slide out of the car. Con gets out and grabs my bags out of the trunk for me. He gives me a hug and says, “I’m so proud of you. We all are.”
“I love you, Con.” I hug him back, grateful to know he’s always in my corner.
“Love you, too. Remember to have fun on stage today. Really let go and bask in it.”
“Thanks,” I say as I turn to go up the steps.
Friday is just rounding the corner as I get to the door. I wait for her to ascend before going in. Her eyes are red, and her skin is splotchy. I hold the door open for her.
“What’s wrong?�
� I ask.
“My parents are here. They’re taking me home after the gala. They want me home permanently.”
“No. I won’t let them take you away.”
“I have to go. They’ll cut me off financially if I don’t.”
“Um, hi. My name is Claire Volkov, and I have more money than I’ll ever need.”
“I’m not taking your money. Are you crazy?”
“Why not? I could be your sugar mama.” I add a shimmy for flair.
“Now you’re talking,” she gives me a watery smile. “Seriously, let’s just focus on getting through the night. Show me your dress for the gala.”
We hang our dresses from hooks on the back of the dressing room door we share and admire both of them. We gossip about some of the other dancers, the one who was arrested with Kent. I’m sure we both want to ask more in-depth questions about what is going on with the other, me about her parents and her about Griff. We keep everything light though, no digging down past the surface tonight.
I pull on my first costume, a beautiful black sequined leotard and black pointe shoes with nude tights. Tonight, I’ve decided to use a bright red lipstick. It’s not approved, but Kent isn’t here and it’s my last night, what better time to do exactly what I want?
We help each other stretch before heading backstage. She is in the opening number, then I have the first pas de deux, then we have several numbers together.
I watch as she kills every single count of the opening. She’s on fire tonight, the fear of possibly never being back here and dancing on stage is weighing on her, I’m sure. It’s the same feeling that has been driving me the past months. Knowing this is it. My final performances.
The matinee performance goes by quickly, and then we’re back in our dressing room, munching on snacks together and trying to keep our muscles limber and warm. Several of the other dancers come by to say goodbye to me. I didn’t tell anyone, but I guess word travels fast.
Surrender (The Titans of Founder's Ridge Book 3) Page 16
