After seeing Jack at the bar, she was scared to come back there. I wound up telling her about the subpoena and going to see him. She was having a hard time believing that he was really dead, so I found out where he was buried and took her to show her that she didn’t have to be scared of him anymore—but she still is.

Candace has been busy ever since we got back in town from spending Halloween in Astoria with my cousins a couple weeks ago. It was a short trip, but Candace had fun with the kids, and I had fun watching my strawberry go door to door with Bailey, helping her fill her bag with candy. Candace even got some candy herself at a few houses that just assumed she was a kid. We all teased her about her size, and she took it like a champ, but she’s used to it from Mark. The two of them banter like brother and sister, and I’m starting to see that same connection building with her, Tori, and Trevor.

This past week has been crazy while Candace has been having costume fittings and dress rehearsals. But tonight is her first performance, and seeing her meddle around the loft, trying to keep her nerves in check, I think back to the last time—the only time—I saw her dance. I was alone, miserable, fearing I’d lost her for good. I watched her dance for the first time while I was hiding in the back of the theater, wishing I could have been with her, and now I am. This is the way it should have been the day of her performance in college, but I’m getting my moment now. And savoring every minute of it.

We ran out of bananas this morning, so she sent me out to grab a few since she worries about muscle cramps. When I get back from the store, a tiny white and tan cat greets me. No doubt, Candace’s little buddy, waiting for her next meal. I walk past it and let myself in.

“Your friend’s out front,” I say as I walk through the room and into the kitchen to set the bag of bananas down.

“Who?” she asks from the couch.

“That cat you keep feeding all of our food to.”

“Ryan, she doesn’t have a home. She’s been hanging around for a couple of weeks,” she says as I walk over to her and sit down.

“We can take her to the pound.”

“Oh my God! You’re crazy!” she squeals at me. “We’re not doing that.”

Looking over at her, I already know what she wants to do, but I ask anyway, hoping she’ll surprise me.

“So what do you suggest we do?”

In the most timid way possible, she suggests, “We could keep her.”

“I’m not inviting a feral cat into my home.”

Narrowing her eyes at me, she says, “You act like I’m asking you to invite a vampire in.”

As I laugh at her analogy, she defends, “And stop calling her a feral cat like she’s some Dickensian orphan.”

“Why do I have a feeling like this cat is going to become part of our family?”

She gets a huge grin on her face at the mere suggestion as I sit back and drape her legs over my lap. When she lies down, I ask, “You doing okay?”

She turns her head to stare out at the rain that’s now beating against the windows, and says, “I’ve never danced for a crowd this big before.”

“You’ll be fine,” I tell her as I start rubbing her calves.

“Hmm,” she softly hums with her eyes shut as I massage her legs.

“When I finally got to see you dance the night of your solo, I never thought you could look so beautiful. You were all I could see even when the stage was filled with other dancers. You stole every bit of my attention as if nothing else in the world existed but you.”

She looks up to my eyes when I tell her this, and then I say, “I know you work your ass off, but when I saw you on stage, it’s like you didn’t even have to try. That’s how I know you’ll be fine. You can’t help but be captivating, babe.”

Sitting up, she climbs into my lap, straddling my hips, and says, “I wanted you that day of my solo. I was a wreck, and I just wanted you there with me.”

Tangling my fingers into her hair, I tell her, “You have me now, babe.”

She leans down and kisses me, moving her lips slowly with mine while I tug her hips into me. Leaning my head back onto the couch, I guide her with my hands still trussed in her hair. I love the taste of her in my mouth, and we continue to make out for a while, just like this, before she drags herself off of me to get ready.

I spend a good amount of time sitting in bed while I watch her move around the room as she stretches and works her ankles, puts her hair up in her bun, and replaces the lamb’s wool in her toe shoes. She’s quiet, but flashes me a grin every now and then as I watch what I hope will become our routine. Tonight’s her first performance, but she’ll have two tomorrow and two on Sunday followed by a few throughout the week. This will last for the next three weeks, and I’m excited that I get to see her dance like this, performing for thousands of people every day. She’s a star in the darkness that hovers over us—she always has been.

I say goodbye to her early because she has to be at McCaw Theater hours before production, so when I arrive, Jase, Mark, Traci, and Max are already there and seated. Candace was able to get them all tickets for opening night, which is nearly a black-tie affair.

Tonight won’t be like the last time I saw her. With the company, she dances in what they call the corps de ballet, an ensemble of dancers that accompany the soloists. It could take a while for Candace to work her way up to being a soloist.

Dancing ‘Les Sylphides,’ my eyes stay locked on her throughout the whole night. She’s the only one I see as she moves gracefully around the stage. Just like before when I saw her dancing, she gives me goosebumps. She’s soft and stoic, taking each number with a focus that only she can make so effortless.

She loves this. It’s who she is, and to see her take this passion and turn her dreams into reality is an amazing thing. She’s known what she’s wanted to make of her dancing, and she did it. I’m in awe of her. To see her suffer through so much, yet never lose her way with her goals is a determination you don’t find all that often in people. But she has it.

I never thought a guy like me would be found at the ballet and actually enjoying it, but I like knowing that this is now a part of my life and that I get to watch my girl up on that stage throughout the year.

Once the curtain drops and the lights brighten, I visit with everyone for a while before saying goodnight. Candace told me to meet her in the dressing room afterwards, so as I walk out of the theater, I see the main lobby emptying out when my eyes catch a man with familiar silver hair walking towards me. As he approaches, I’m stunned to see it’s Candace’s father.

“Charles?”

He looks up and stops in his tracks when he recognizes me. I can tell that he can’t place my name.

“It’s Ryan,” I say, reminding him.

“Ryan. How are you?” he says as he reaches out his hand, but I don’t take it.

“What are you doing here?”

It takes him a moment, but when he lowers his hand, he shifts his weight, saying, “I came to see Candace.”

“Does she know you’re here?”

“No.”

When I slowly begin to shake my head at the man who is sneaking out because he’s too much of a coward to see his own daughter, he defends, “I love her.”

“You don’t know her.”

He doesn’t speak after I say this, and my need to protect her takes over when I continue, “I don’t know what it is about her that you aren’t able to accept or that you don’t think is good enough. I’ve tried to understand, but I can’t.” Taking a step closer, I pause for a second before saying, “I wish you could see the amazing girl that I do. The girl who has dreams that she’s able to make come true. The girl who loves harder than anyone I’ve ever known. She’s got a beautiful heart.”

“I know.”