Chapter 18
Maxime
Madame Durand refills my champagne glass and then raises her own. "To Maxime and Aurora," she calls out over the lively atmosphere of the party.
I let my gaze wander over the dimly lit rooftop terrace and land on Aurora, who leans against one of the standing tables with Sky. Her cheeks are flushed, and she grabs her glass, toasting the boss.
Suddenly, she looks directly at me.
Intensely. Passionately.
Heat rises within me, and not just because I can already feel the effect of the champagne. Now, she smiles mischievously. My lips lift on their own, feeling so light, and it feels so right.
"Mesdames et messieurs." Along with the male voice, loud clinking reaches my ears. "S'il vous pla?t."
Aurora turns her head, breaking our eye contact. Slowly, the heat drains from my body, and I also direct my attention to where the sound is coming from.
Cyrille stands next to Madame Durand by the terrace railing, raising his eyebrows to get the party guests' attention. "Where are my stars?" he asks in English, then switches back to the official academy language. "Maxime, Aurora, please come forward."
A speech? For both of us? How lovely.
I do my best to hide how tipsy I am from the alcohol and walk over to him. There, I stand beside Aurora, so close that our arms almost touch.
A delicate tingle spreads across my skin.
"That was an outstanding performance," Cyrille says, launching into a eulogy. For minutes, he talks about what a great achievement our second place is for the academy, and then he exchanges conspiratorial glances with Madame Durand. "Of course, we want to reward your efforts. Therefore, we have decided..."
I feel Aurora searching for my hand and allow her fingers to entwine with mine.
"Both of you will compete in the French Championships in mid-October." He raises his eyebrows expectantly.
"My God," Aurora whispers incredulously, and for a moment, I am not myself either.
What an opportunity! And what trust he and the boss are showing us.
Madame Durand laughs. "Looks like someone is speechless."
I nod absentmindedly, my thoughts focused on Aurora and her big dream. The French Championships are a huge step toward making it come true.
"That's fantastic, thank you so much." Aurora is the first to find her words again. "We won't disappoint you, certainly not."
It's still not even mid-August, and we have over two months until the tournament. Yes, it could work—if we give it our all.
"We'll intensify the training, won't we, Maxime?" She tugs at my hand.
"Absolutely," I reply with a wide grin on my face.
We won't let this opportunity slip away.
Sky, who had been staying in the background, now rushes over with a raised glass. "To Maxime and Aurora!"
The rest of the party guests join in. They applaud, toast with us, pat our shoulders, and nod approvingly.
For me, it's like a dream. Surreal. I enjoy the atmosphere, the champagne, the warm night. And the feeling of standing by Aurora's side.
I have never been so sure as I am today. Together, we can achieve anything.
***
Hours later, the last guests bid their farewells. Sky pulls Aurora into a hug. "Are you sure you don't want any help?"
"You have your first training session at eight tomorrow. So go home," Aurora replies and nods toward the exit.
Sky disappears from the rooftop terrace with her hair fluttering in the breeze, leaving Aurora and I alone. The soft background music, now audible again as the silence settles in, fills me with melancholy. That, and the alcohol. I feel carefree and incredibly happy.
Humming to myself, I start gathering the glasses from the abandoned cocktail tables. "The French Championships, huh?" I still can't believe it. I grin at Aurora as she approaches with an empty tray.
So graceful. So beautiful.
She nods dreamily and places the tray in front of me. "Oh yes, we'll rock it," she says with a radiant smile. I watch her expression, see her determination, her love for dance, and her love for her mother.
But there's something more. Longing dominates her face. Her gaze keeps flickering to my lips, and I feel something inside me about to give in.
For weeks, I've tried to ignore these feelings, but now they surge up so intensely that I feel like losing control.
I should never let this happen, but I feel like I'm floating right now. Far out in the universe, where there's no gravity holding me back.
Accompanied by a soft melody from the radio, I take a step toward her, and at the same time, she does the same. We meet halfway, gazing at each other. She leans up, and I bend down.
Her scent drives me crazy, her proximity making my heart race.
This has to stop.
"If we now..."
"Yes, we should probably..."
I hear her whisper hoarsely.
Oh God, we can't do this.
I need to create distance between us, but the opposite happens. As if in a trance, I bridge the remaining distance between us, and even before our lips touch, I feel a tingling all over my body.
I lack the strength to resist any longer. I've held back for so many weeks, and my yearning has only grown.
Gently, I place my lips on hers.
Our kiss feels like a promise, and that's exactly what it is. I know it. I know that we belong together, and I know that together, we can achieve anything. And at this moment, I don't want to know anything else. I just want to savor this sweetness.
Long after our kiss, I hold her close, swaying her gently. We say nothing, maybe because neither of us knows how to proceed.
Keep things as they were?
I can't do that.
"What do you dream of, Maxime Rousseau?" she suddenly asks into the reverent silence between us. "If there were no limits you couldn't break. Where would you be? What would you do?"
I follow her gaze up to the sky, where the first outlines of the moon are already visible. She has asked me this question before. I didn't want to answer back then to keep us from getting too close. But now, holding her in my arms, there's no reason to hold back anymore. "I grew up in Seine-Saint-Denis."
She squeezes my hand. She knows it's one of the toughest social hotspots in Paris. But what happened in my childhood doesn't define me now. It's all in the past. I don't want to dwell on the fact that my father left my mother when she got pregnant with me. She never talked about it, just like she never spoke of the times we struggled to afford food and housing.
Instead, she warmly smiled at me, focused on the positive things, and just kept going.
Both of us did.
"Dancing got me out of there." I smile nostalgically now. "And I never want to go back. I want my children to have a better life one day."
She nods. "So your children…" she murmurs, with a hint of amusement.
I look at her. "As long as I'm dancing, I have a future." The French Championships would be a significant step. A damn big one. With that reputation, I could work as a dance coach and performer, maybe even for television.
Her hand finds my chest, and her gaze turns serious. "I'll never allow anything to endanger your dance," she says with determination. "No one at the academy will know about us if we…"
Could that be the solution? Can we really hide so well?
No, it's too risky.
I tenderly stroke her fingers. "Not only my future but also yours depends on it."
A mixture of longing and determination fills her expression. "It's just three years."
"We'll have to constantly hide. We'll be alone during dance rehearsals, yet we can't lose control even once," I remind her, emphasizing the challenge. "It will feel suffocating and limiting."
Instead of despairing, she shakes her head. "If I've learned anything from my mother's death, it's that you have to savor life."
She takes my hand, pulling me to the front of the terrace railing. Together, we gaze at the city's nocturnal lights.
"Yes. The time at the academy will be tough, but we're already used to that. And every second we're not there, we'll cherish," she says, sitting on the balustrade and drawing me close. Her legs wrap around mine. "As often as possible, we'll escape. Away from Paris, where no one knows us. We'll create memories we'll never forget."
That sounds wonderful.
"We'll taste wine in Champagne and build sandcastles on the beaches of Normandy," I suggest.
She strokes my hair. "We'll navigate a boat through the canals of Bruges and camp in the forest of Fontainebleau."
Absolutely. I bury my face in her neck, relishing the scent of summer surrounding her.
"And one day, when the academy is behind us, we'll dance the mambo together in the heart of Paris," she adds passionately, her tone filled with more emotion than any human should contain.
"Before the eyes of the whole world," I respond. Everyone will witness our love. It will be the beginning of a new life. The moment we'll be truly free.
Aurora sighs longingly. "Barefoot in the summer rain."
I can't help but grin. "At a Joshua Friedberg concert," I chime in, taking it one step further. His piano music is unique, just like both of us.
She forces me to lift my head from her shoulder to look at her. Her face is filled with awe. "I love Joshua Friedberg."
And I love you. The words rest lightly on my lips as if they could fly away any moment without my intervention. I should be afraid. Of these overwhelming feelings that Aurora has stirred within me so quickly and everything they could lead to.
But the opposite is true.
Now that I'm finally ready to embrace these feelings, everything suddenly seems possible.
"So we have a plan," I say gently, tracing the contours of her cheeks. "We'll dance, and we'll live."
She nods, slowly at first, then more emphatically. "We'll dance, and we'll live," she confirms before pressing her lips against mine once more.