Epilogue Chloe
Five Years Later
I was standing by the window in our bedroom.
The large bedroom was a sanctuary of silk sheets and down pillows.
A four-poster bed, its headboard upholstered in velvet, dominated the room.
Off to the side was a walk-in closet with a sea of designer gowns and tailored suits.
Ever since I’d passed my PMP certification, I had been working steadily at my career.
I’d worked at two companies in the past five years, enjoying my role as a project manager.
But I could still not afford this dress or this penthouse if it hadn’t been for Sean.
He enjoyed spoiling me.
Case in point, I was wearing a new dress that Sean had bought for me that was worth a couple of months of my paycheck.
Sean was walking past the room to his private study when he stopped to look at me.
I turned, met his gaze, and smiled.
He raised his eyebrows in an appreciative gesture as he looked me up and down.
“You still take my breath away, Chloe,” he said.
I smiled. “Right back at you, Sean.”
He was wearing a sharp, tailored tuxedo that fit him well.
Add that to his broad shoulders and the effortless grace in the way he carried himself—well, he ended up looking like he owned the world.
His dark chestnut hair added a touch of rugged charm, and his smile could still melt me.
“I still can’t get used to the price tags on these things. This dress is a hundred times more expensive than the ones I’m used to,” I protested, but he laughed and put a hand on my back.
“The person wearing the dress is way more precious to me,” he responded with a light kiss.
From the living room, I heard a cry as our baby, May, gurgled while playing with Anne.
I walked into the expansive living room, where eleven-month-old May played on the carpet.
She had Sean’s smile, loving and warm, and my blue eyes.
She was our darling.
At eleven months old, she would crawl like a champ and occasionally stand, no doubt to get more of the view.
Across from her, floor-to-ceiling windows framed a stunning view of the city with its twinkling lights and soaring skyscrapers.
Plush sofas occupied the center of the room with silk throw pillows.
A grand piano stood against one wall, all polished and gleaming.
“Are you sure she’ll be okay?” I asked when Sean stood next to me.
“I mean, the show is two hours, and Anne will need to tuck her in tonight by herself.”
Sean put his hand on my shoulder before kissing my hair.
“Chloe, tonight is your special night. You’re dancing for an audience of a hundred. I think May will understand ten years from now why it was important that you couldn’t tuck her in one night. If she remembers this incident at all in the first place.”
His smile was wry, and I laughed.
Of course she wouldn’t remember.
It would be okay if I missed kissing her good night today.
I leaned against Sean, placing my cheek against his chest. Ballet was irrevocably tied to Henry, and I always wished he was nearer to me.
A few weeks ago, he had asked me to come see him graduate from his PhD program.
I’d been so thrilled that I had to sit down and blink back tears of happiness.
I’d had a hard time with Henry’s absence in the beginning, but over the years, our visits increased, thanks to Sean’s private jet.
Boston didn’t feel that far away anymore.
“Thank you for helping me get back to ballet. Even after we had May and when things got more hectic, you always reminded me to take care of myself too.”
His hand swept through my hair, and I felt the warmth of his lips press against my forehead.
“You did the same for me years ago,” he murmured.
“I have a better relationship with my son because of you. It’s made me a better father to both Lucas and May. So, yes, my intelligent, hardworking, and dedicated wife, I’ll make sure you never forget to take care of yourself because you do far too much for the people around you. Which is also why we need to leave now.”
I walked out of the room with him, stopping to give May a kiss and a hug.
May looked up at me with wide eyes, and Anne, our loyal nanny, waved from the doorway.
Together, we stepped out into the night.
We got into the waiting limousine, and as we drove toward the Lincoln Center, memories flooded my mind.
I had once attended a gala here with Sean, my heart fluttering in a gown he’d gifted me.
Now, I was not a spectator, but a performer—a woman who had reclaimed her passion.
Sean held my hand, his thumb tracing circles on my skin.
“No one will walk away this time,” he said softly as we walked in.
“No one will suffer because you took care of yourself.”
His confidence anchored me.
As we stepped into the Lincoln Center’s grand foyer, I glimpsed the chandeliers, their crystals winking like stars.
All around us was the excited chatter of people when Sean gripped my hand tighter, his step faltering.
We saw someone come forward from the shadows of the corridor.
“Is that …” Sean breathed out, and I froze.
Henry was rolling toward us, accompanied by a young woman.
“Henry?” I asked in disbelief.
He nodded. He’d grown leaner, and his face had a mild tan, like he had been spending more time outdoors.
A petite, auburn-haired young woman walked up to us shyly while Henry came closer.
“Gayle, meet my sister, Chloe,” Henry said.
Gayle turned to me with a bright smile.
There was a definite blush in her cheeks as she shifted her weight from one foot to another.
“Chloe, this is my girlfriend, Gayle.”
I knew Henry had been seeing Gayle, but we’d never met before.
I could not hide the happiness in my eyes as I gave Gayle a hug and clocked Henry’s contented look.
“I figured it was time you both met,” was all he said, but I could read him well.
I knew he was delighted at us finally meeting.
“I’ve wanted to meet you for forever,” Gayle said.
“Henry has always spoken so highly of you.”
“Gayle and I were both student leaders, and that’s how we met. We’ve been together for the past year now.”
Gayle’s eyes were on Henry.
“He’s amazing. The way he deals with the stubborn admin folks at department offices? He’s a great people person and so kind. I’m really lucky to have him in my life.”
I didn’t know when I started to cry or when Sean’s arm went around mine as I wept with happiness.
“Chloe,” Henry said, reaching for my hand, “I don’t blame you for being so surprised. When you mentioned that you were dancing here tonight in your recent text message, I knew I had to be here. Sean helped us get here in time.”
I turned to Sean, who gave me a wicked smile.
“Henry had to be here,” he confirmed while Henry nodded.
I stared at them, feeling vulnerable.
I couldn’t speak. I leaned down and hugged Henry tight.
Tears went streaking down my cheeks while his arms went around my back.
“I’ve missed you so much, Henry.”
“Now, go,” he said, tilting his head to the stage as the theater hummed with anticipation, the velvet seats filled with eager spectators.
“We’ll speak more after the show.”
The anticipation built within me—a crescendo of happiness, excitement, and thrill.
At thirty-three, I felt like the eighteen-year-old me, but wiser, stronger.
Tonight, there would be no accidents, no missteps.
The stage waited.
Sean gave me a quick kiss and pulled me to him, whispering, “Good luck,” before he let me go backstage.
Half an hour later, I stood in the wings, filled with nerves and exhilaration.
Fifteen years had passed since I’d last graced a stage, but tonight, under the spotlight, I would reclaim my tiny but meaningful place in the dance world.
My pointe shoes grazed the floor easily with their satin ribbons.
The pale blue tutu clung to me like a second skin as the orchestra swelled, the music beautiful and moving.
I stepped forward, my breath hitching as the curtain lifted.
The audience blurred into a sea of faces, their collective gaze fixed on me.
In the past, I’d danced for applause, for pleasing the audience.
Now, I would dance for myself.
My feet found their positions, and with my colleagues, I pushed off into the spotlight.
The creak of the boards and the hush of the theater were all too familiar.
I glimpsed Sean in the audience.
His eyes held a mix of pride and awe, his hands gripping the armrests.
He had stood by me during the grueling rehearsals, the late nights, the doubts.
His unwavering support fueled me now.
And throughout the dance, Sean watched, his eyes never leaving me.
He had kept his promise—to support me, to ensure my well-being.
As I twirled, I glimpsed Henry in the front row.
Henry’s face was a mirror of wonder.
He would remember this night—the night his sister finally danced.
As my feet touched down, applause erupted—a thunderstorm of approval.
I curtsied, tears blurring my vision.
I had danced for love, for loss, for the girl I used to be.
But most of all, I had danced for the man who believed in me—the one who sat in the dimly lit theater, clapping until his palms stung.
Backstage, Sean enveloped me in a hug.
“You were incredible, Chloe.”
I buried my face in his shoulder, inhaling the scent of his cologne.
“Thank you,” I whispered.
“For being here.”
He kissed my temple.
“Always.”
And in that moment, I knew I had not only reclaimed the stage, but also found my anchor—the one who would applaud my encore, no matter how many years it took.
“I’ll dance for you again and again,” I said.