19. Chapter Nineteen #3
“You’ve made me miserable,” I continue. “All of you have. Claudia and Ana. You, Camille. You never truly wanted me here given who my father is. And then who my husband is. I don’t want to come back.
But I will dance again. I’ll show all of you that.
But I’m not going to force myself into a pretzel to fit the mold you want from me. I’m… done.”
With all that said, I leave the dance studio, limping with every step I take, and yet I have never felt more powerful in my entire life.
After two more months of physical therapy, I’ve gotten to the point where I can walk without a limp. My leg is feeling strong again.
And I know it’s time.
I enter the ballroom inside mine and Nikolai’s large mansion. It once felt so cold in here but today, I only feel hope.
My black cardigan is in place. My tights and short, flowy skirt are ready to go. The last thing I need to put on is my pointe shoes.
I am going to dance today.
My eyes meet my reflection in the large mirrors. All right. Let’s do this. I press play on my phone and music swells through the room.
The score to Romeo and Juliet. I am going to dance the part I was denied because of my accident.
I start off slow. Taking one step at a time. My body is achy and sore from lack of exercise. My physical therapy was all about gaining strength in my leg but I haven’t been able to do yoga or anything else in that time.
I spin around and stumble. Gritting my teeth, I righten myself and continue. I let my arms raise above my head. I let my body twirl. And then finally, I get to the part where I have to stand on pointe.
Taking a deep breath, I push myself to do it. My leg shakes and shakes but I hold out for as long as possible.
Until I can’t take it anymore.
I collapse to the ground. I cry out as pain radiates through my hip of my bad leg.
The music shuts off. Nikolai is standing there, just watching me. No anger on his face. No happiness. Just stoicism.
He hasn’t touched me in the past few months, except to hold me at night. I miss him pleasuring me but I know he’s been holding back until I’m fully healed. Until I can handle his body.
“I need to try again,” I say, pushing myself to my feet. I force myself to stand on point but my leg completely gives out again and I crash back to the floor.
“You are going to hurt yourself if you keep pushing like this.”
“I have to do this, Nikolai.”
“I thought you weren’t going to go back to your dance studio. That you had given that up.”
“Yes. I’m not going back there. That place is a cesspool of evil ballerinas. But I still need to dance again. I need this.”
He walks over to me. With me on the floor and him standing above me, he has never looked so tall and imposing before.
“You will stop for today,” he commands. “And you will keep strengthening your leg. And you will try again tomorrow. But if you keep this up today, you will hurt yourself and make it worse. That is it for today, Lana.”
His command is exactly what I need. I let out a sob as my tears hit me and I curl into a ball. He kneels down and wraps me in his arms. “That’s enough for today,” he murmurs. “That’s enough.”
I try again the next day and the day after that and the day after that. Each day is a struggle. I can’t stand on pointe for long. My leg won’t stop shaking and each time I try to dance, I end up collapsed on the floor. And every time Nikolai commands me to stop.
And then one day, I decide to not dance. I stay in bed. Nikolai finds me like that when he returns home from work.
“What are you doing?” he asks.
“I’m in bed.”
“Are you in pain?”
“No,” I sigh. “I just didn’t feel like dancing today. I didn’t try.”
“You stayed in bed all day?”
“Yes.”
He sighs and sits down beside me, running his hand over my back. “I don’t like this side of you, Lana.”
“What side is that?”
“This depressed version of you. I want you to keep dancing. I know how much it means to you. Don’t stop, even when it hurts.”
“But you keep telling me to stop.”
“Only when it’s clear you’re going to hurt yourself more if you continue.” He cups my cheek. “But you should still try every day. Don’t stop.”
I let Nikolai’s words wash over me and I do as he says. I get out of bed and I put my pointe shoes back on and I return to the ballroom. And I dance again.
And once more, I end up on the floor.
I go to see Romeo and Juliet. I sit beside Nikolai and I watch as Eliza prances around on stage, playing the character I was meant for. And I hate to admit it but she does a wonderful job. I know I could do better though.
It’s strange to watch the show from the perspective of an audience member. I have never seen a ballet from this position before in my entire life. I’ve always lived and breathed on the stage. And now that’s over.
Nikolai rubs his thumb over my hand for the entire show, silently giving me strength. When it’s over and Eliza takes her bow, I get to my feet and I clap for her. I refuse to be a sore loser about it.
All the audience members head for the exit but Nikolai pulls me to the side. “Come with me.”
“Where are we going?” I ask.
“Just wait.” We stand near the exit but don’t leave.
It’s not until the theater becomes empty again that Nikolai walks me back into the large room and onto the stage.
“I paid one of the stagehands to keep the place open. I brought these with me.” He pulls my pointe shoes out of his large jacket pocket.
“You’re going to dance on this stage again and tonight, you’re finally going to do what you couldn’t before. You’re not going to fall this time.”
“I’m not going to fall,” I repeat.
I replace my high heels with the pointe shoes and stand up.
He nods towards the sound booth and music swells over the room. The score to Romeo and Juliet.
I dance on the empty stage, letting the music wash over me, and I perform the dance of Juliet’s death.
I waver a few times but I don’t collapse. I keep dancing and dancing and dancing until I’ve completed the routine.
And then I take my bow. When I stand up and take in the empty theater before me, I smile like I have never smiled before. It’s one of pure happiness. Dancing for the only person that matters: my husband.