Chapter Sixteen
Seraphina
Three days later
THE TEMPLE OF DENDUR is small, with a gateway made of sandstone and the small sanctuary located just behind it.
But its size doesn’t make it any less impressive.
Papyrus and lotus plants are carved into the base of the temple.
The interior of the sanctuary is softly lit, golden light bathing over the ancient stone.
The reflecting pool surrounding the temple makes it easy to imagine such a temple sitting just beyond the banks of the Nile.
A stark contrast to the soaring glass wall to my right that faces Central Park.
I still can’t believe I’m dancing at the Metropolitan Museum of Art.
Jessica called me on Tuesday, her excitement so intense it took several times of me encouraging her to slow down before she finally shared that a benefactor had not only booked the entire exhibition wing at the Met, but had also sold an additional two hundred seats for the show.
My heart twists in my chest as I glance at my reflection in the mirror set up in one of the makeshift dressing rooms. I’m wearing the same outfit I wore that night at the Hudson Springs gala: red halter with sparkling sequins, black skirt and a red rose tucked behind one ear.
Unlike that night, however, I’m not wearing a wig or a mask. It’s just me, Seraphina Clark.
I’ve spent the last couple of days deep-cleaning my apartment and the nights curled up with old movies.
Tuesday was spent sending out résumés and scouring more job boards.
I have an interview next week with a bank, but until I have an actual offer in hand, I’m going to keep applying.
My savings will carry me for another couple months.
That, and I need the distraction. The focus of work so I can stop thinking about Aiden so much.
My hand goes to the chain around my neck. I gently tug and pulled the engagement ring free from the bodice of my halter top. It arrived by courier yesterday, along with a note.
“It was meant for you.”
After a solid ten minutes of crying, I shut it away for a day inside my desk drawer. Just looking at it reminds me of Aiden in the dressing room of the store, his hand wrapped around mine as he slid it onto my finger.
But after a day of cleaning and a night of watching Anthony Andrews risk his life to save his estranged wife in The Scarlet Pimpernel, I woke up craving something, anything that would let me feel closer to Aiden.
A man who, like the hero of one of my favorite movies, concealed his true self from the world even as he does what he can to make his portion of it better.
I found a necklace I’d purchased in college, a long silver chain with a small pendant, and swapped it out for the ring. One day I’ll stop wearing it. One day the grief will be more of a companion than a cloud shadowing almost every aspect of my life.
I rub my thumb over the emerald. Release a shuddering breath. I miss him. I miss him like I’ve never missed anyone. It feels like my heart is missing a piece I’ll never get back. I have to remind myself daily I’m whole, enough, without him in my life.
But God, it doesn’t feel like it right now.
“Ready?”
I whirl around. Jessica’s standing behind me, a smile on her face. She looks stunning in a long red gown that, rather than contrast with her own vivid red hair, makes it shine.
I tilt my head to one side. There’s something off, though. A tension shimmering around her, faint lines by her eyes.
“I am. You all right?”
She waves a hand. “Just nerves. It’s a big night for Cirque Obsidian. Way bigger than I expected.”
“Fair. But what an accomplishment.”
“Right?” She reaches out and grabs my hand. “I can’t thank you enough for making sure Obsidian got some press. We wouldn’t be performing here tonight without it.”
At least something good came from all of this. I pull the necklace off and tuck it inside a pocket inside the nude shorts underneath my skirt. Breathe out before I walk to the door. “Okay. Let’s do this.”
“You’re going to do great.”
Jessica pulls me into a hug. I hesitate, then hug her back. She’s the first true friend I’ve made since I put Brett behind bars. A positive to latch on to, lean into over the next few months as I work through my loss.
“Thanks.” I glance down the hall. Techno music blasts. The silk performers. “I sound like I’m five asking this, but are my parents here?”
“Front row.”
“Okay.” I smile as I squeeze her hand. “I’m crazy nervous, but I’m excited.”
“Would it make me sound like a patronizing big sister if I tell you how proud I am of you?”
God, I can’t cry now. Not with eye shadow and liner and mascara on.
“No, it doesn’t make you sound patronizing.” I look up at the ceiling several stories above, blink rapidly and swallow past the lump in my throat. “Now stop talking before I walk out looking like I’m ready for Halloween.”
We walk out of the dressing area and down a curtained-off hallway that leads to the stage.
Jessica hands me my staff. When the silk performers’ song concludes, she walks out.
She asked if I wanted to dedicate my performance to anyone.
It took me a day to think on it, to work up the courage to say what was on my heart.
“Our next performer has dedicated her dance to someone who made a big impact on her life. Who lifted her up and made her realize you can love again.”
The crowd erupts into applause. The lights dim.
I walk out onto the stage and take my place.
The music starts, soft drops of melody that wash over me.
Golden lighting fills the stage as I begin my dance.
Gentle vocals fill the museum. I melt into the familiar tune, ease into my routine as I reach out to the darkened audience, let my heartache show on my face as I pull back, curl into my chest and slowly slide to the floor.
I think of Aiden as I arch up, each movement echoing the pain of getting back up after loss. The strains of violins pitch up as I cross to the candelabra flickering on the edge of the stage. I dip one end of the staff into the flames, then the other end.
The chorus bursts in with a swell of violins and cellos.
The techno beats pulse inside me, mimicking my heartbeat as I roll the staff down my back, catch it and toss it into the air.
The thrill of being in love, of realizing how much Aiden saw me and didn’t pull away.
He built me up, empowered me. In his own way, he cared for me.
The song swells. I wrap the staff around my shoulders, behind my back, across my chest. The fire flares. Then, slowly, I sink to the floor, the staff still burning in my hands as I lower my head.
Silence falls. A split second later the room erupts into wild applause. I force a small smile as I stand and give a slight bow.
My final goodbye to Aiden and everything he did for me. Maybe after tonight, I’ll start to feel some peace.
I walk off the stage. Jessica’s waiting for me. She wraps me in another hug and squeezes tight.
“Killed it.” She pulls back and wipes away a tear of her own. “Absolutely killed it.”
“Thank you.”
She grabs my arm as I start to walk down the hall. “Do you mind hanging out for a moment?”
I want to just go back to the dressing room and sink into a chair. But I nod. Jessica walks back out into the spotlight.
“Absolutely incredible. Thank you, Seraphina. And now, before our next performance, please welcome our generous benefactor who made tonight’s venue possible.”
She walks toward me. The tension is back, as are the faint lines by her eyes as she stops next to me and looks back toward the stage. The lights dim. I can see a shadow moving against the dark.
Then the lights come up. My heart pitches straight down to my feet.
Aiden.
“Good evening.” It’s only been four days, but the sound of his deep, rich voice is like a balm to a wound.
“I just wanted to take a moment to say thank you for coming out to support Cirque Obsidian and their artists.” The audience claps as he smiles.
“As some of you may know, I had a chance to see some of their performers in action recently at the Hudson Springs Botanical Gardens.”
Quiet laughter sweeps through the crowd.
“But I want to highlight the impact Cirque Obsidian makes outside their studio. They don’t just perform at galas and fundraisers.
They offer free classes and performances at domestic violence shelters like Grace’s Refuge, lead workshops for at-risk youth and detention centers, visit local hospitals. ”
The audience is silent now, their attention riveted on the man on the stage.
“An important woman in my life introduced me to just how big an impact Cirque Obsidian makes on our community. So tonight, for those of you inclined to support this group, the Hawke Foundation will not only match tonight’s donations, but double the final amount.”
Thunderous applause breaks out. I stare at Aiden, at this man I once thought to be cold and unfeeling. Pride swells as he bows his head. Jessica walks out to him and shakes his hand. He waits until the applause dies down before he speaks again.
“The foundation’s commitment is inspired by Seraphina Clark, a woman who has taught me about following one’s heart and the value of not just giving, but giving with intention.”
Hope—wonderful, terrible hope—blooms in my chest.
“Enjoy the show.”
He nods to the audience. And then his gaze latches on to me. My breath catches in my chest at the sheer emotion burning in his eyes. He walks off the stage toward me, his steps strong and sure. I stand rooted to the spot, my heart pounding so hard I feel like I might pass out.
He stops in front of me.
“Seraphina.”
“Aiden.” I bite down on my lower lip. “That was beautiful.”
“Thank you.”
His hand comes up, as if he’s going to touch me. But he stops, lets his arm drop back to his side. My hope quivers.
“Your performance…” He stops, his eyes locked on to mine as he breathes in deeply. “It was perfect.”