Epilogue
SILAS
Anticipation filled the room. The theater seemed to take a collective breath as the house lights dimmed.
I smiled, settling deeper into my plush velvet seat, a bouquet in hand.
It didn’t matter how many times I watched my wife perform, every time was like the first. I loved watching her in her element; she was a natural.
I had seen her perform countless times. From the confines of my basement years ago, to the musty studio she practiced in when we first moved to Las Vegas and now—the grand stage of the city’s most prestigious theater.
Each performance was a revelation, a testament to her unwavering dedication, her fierce passion and her ethereal talent.
For the last nine productions, she had been the lead, and I couldn’t have been more proud.
Something about tonight felt different. There was an extra buzz in the air. Rosalie was dancing the lead in ‘Giselle’. A role she had been dreaming of for quite some time.
The overture began, a cascade of mournful strings tugged something deep within me. Watching the curtain rise, there she was in all her beauty.
How did I get so lucky?
The stage was transformed into a rustic village square, bathed in light. Dancers, clad in peasant costumes moved gracefully across the stage to set the scene. But my focus wasn’t on them. My eyes were for my wife, my sweet ballerina, Rosalie.
She shined so brightly. Her movements were fluid and effortless. Her smile, even from this distance, radiated a genuine, infectious happiness. She was Giselle, not just playing the part, but embodying the very spirit of the character.
The first act unfolded, and I was utterly captivated by her beauty.
I knew the story—Rosalie told it to me repeatedly. Giselle’s burgeoning love and tragic destiny. But hearing it in comparison to watching Rosalie perform it was an entirely different experience in itself. I tilted my head to the side, admiring her.
She was utterly breathtaking.
Her jumps hung in the air longer than anyone else’s, but it wasn’t her technique that had me enthralled. It was the emotion she poured into every step and gesture. Her ability to convey the character she was playing. Giselle’s innocent love, her vulnerability, her joy.
A pang of jealousy shot through me, watching her dance with the love interest in the production. I rolled my eyes, trying to focus on her instead. As much as I detested others touching what was mine, I knew they were only playing a part, and Rosalie’s heart belonged to me.
When the music came to a conclusion and the curtain fell, the crowd began to roar.
Everyone was on their feet, myself included.
A standing ovation was deserved. I balanced the flowers in my arms, clapping as the curtain rose again.
The ensemble, the soloists, and then, finally, my Rosalie took a final bow.
She stood center stage, right beneath the spotlight. Her chest rose and fell in an attempt to catch her breath. Her face was a mixture of exhaustion and pure, unadulterated joy.
The applause intensified.
I watched her, and the way her eyes scanned the audience.
She was looking for me.
I smiled bigger, waving in hopes that she would see me. Her eyes soon met mine with a wide smile across her face. A smile meant just for me.
The house lights came up, and the crowd dispersed, buzzing with excitement.
I pushed my way against the crowd, navigating through the lobby, and making my way backstage.
I knew the routine by heart now. The post-performance rush and congratulations, the performers making haste to change out of costume.
I waited patiently, holding the bouquet of Rosalie’s favorite flowers in hand.
It felt like eternity waiting for her.
The sound of the door opening caught my attention as she emerged. Wearing her leotard and tights, and a towel draped around her neck. Her hair was disheveled, but even when fatigued, I found her to be the most gorgeous woman I had ever laid eyes on.
“Baby!” she exclaimed breathlessly.
I held out the flowers. “You were as magnificent as always, my love.”
She took the flowers, taking a whiff of them. “Silas, thank you. I’m so happy you came again.”
“Wouldn’t miss it for the world.” I lifted my hand, brushing a stray strand of hair from her face. “You were incredible, truly. I have never seen you dance like that before.”
“You think so?” She blushed.
“Oh, I know so,” I affirmed, planting a soft kiss against her forehead.
“That means the world to me.”
I smiled brighter, wrapping my arm around the small of her back. “Ready to get out of here?” My voice softened.
“More than ready,” she replied with a smile.
“Good.” I paused playfully. “Because I have a reservation at that place you like down the street. The one with the sourdough bread bowls.”
Her eyes lit up. “Really?”
I nodded. “And I plan on spending the entire evening telling you just how breathtaking you were tonight.”
She let out a soft giggle, a sweet sound to my ears. “Is that so?”
“Absolutely, and after dinner we can discuss your beauty in more… intimate detail,” I teased.
She gently smacked her hand against my chest. “Silas! Not here.”
“Alright, alright.” I chuckled. Pulling her closer to me, I began to lead her from backstage towards the front lobby doors. “Let's go celebrate.”
With that, we left the theater and made our way to have a nice dinner, just the two of us.