Tyler rings the doorbell at exactly 7. I look at B, my palms clammy from nervousness. Sensing my nervousness, she hugs me tight, saying, “You’ve got this babe. Be confident. You’re beautiful inside and out. He will love you as much as I do. Try not to overthink.”

She opens the door, ushering him inside. “Hey Tyler. Better be a gentleman and have her home before 12,” she winks, sashaying away, leaving us standing there alone.

“Hey Ember, you look beautiful,” he leans in to kiss my cheek, grabbing my hand.

“Thank you. I’m ready if you are?” I ask him, grabbing my bag from the hook.

“Yeah, I figured we could maybe go to dinner and see a movie? I’m open to whatever,” he says, stepping out onto the porch.

We head towards his truck and he opens my door for me, helping me inside. What a gentleman. When is the last time I saw a man do that? He starts the truck and we drive in awkward silence until he says, “Ember, you okay?” Great, five minutes in and I’m already doing a shitty job at this.

“Yeah, I haven’t really ever done this, so I’m sorry if I don’t know exactly what to do,” I reply, looking down at my hands in my lap. Trying to gather my confidence, I look up at him. “I’m excited. Where should we eat?” I smile, hoping to lighten the mood.

“Do you like Italian? We can go to a place in the city I’ve heard great things about?” He asks.

“Yeah, sounds great.” Looking out the window, I watch the lights fly by. I have to start somewhere, and this doesn’t seem like such a bad place to start.

Dinner flies by as we get to know each other. I’m surprised how easy it is to talk to him, like having dinner with an old friend. There’s no spark you read about in the romance books, no butterflies, no accidental hand brushes as we reach for our drinks. He laughs at my dorky jokes, opens my doors for me, and holds my hand as we walk to the theatre. I wonder what a second chance at love would feel like. Would it be anything like what I shared with Hale? I chastise myself for thinking of Hale while out with another man. Jeez Ember, could you be anymore disconnected? On the way home from the theatre we stop for ice cream and sit on the outside patio. The weather is nice, with the leaves falling from the trees around us.

“I really enjoyed tonight Tyler. It’s hard to believe this is my first date,” I say, trying to hide my embarrassment. I’m embarrassed to tell him that, but it is a huge step for me.

“I had a great time Em. I’m glad you gave me the chance,” he winks as he takes a lick of his ice cream.

We both start laughing. I really have had such a great time. I think Tyler will make a great friend. Maybe we didn’t get what we thought we would out of the date, but friendship is never a bad thing. He drops me back off at home, kissing my cheek, and thanking me for tonight. We make plans to see another movie next weekend after I get this huge paper out of the way. He’s a sweetheart and I’m already looking forward to next week. I walk up the drive, making my way to the porch swing. I sit, looking up at the stars. I know Hale’s looking down now. I just have to make him proud.

Tonight’s finally the Harvest Festival and the theatre is buzzing with excitement. It’s packed full of family and friends of all the dancers. These are my favorite moments as a dancer, seeing everyone’s face as their daughters, sisters, and wives dance across the stage. It’s such a bittersweet day. It’s hard living in a small town where almost every corner reminds me of something we shared together, every memory, every laugh. All the first’s I experienced with Hale. Our entire lives were spent with each other. B and I are stretching in the back wing, preparing for our dance. We go on in about twenty minutes after the younger girls.

Leaning against the bar, I pull my leg up in an L stretch, stretching my hamstrings. The worst mistake you can make is not stretching properly and I want this routine to be perfect. We’ve both worked so hard and dedicated so many hours to it. Taking a deep breath, I let it out and sink to the floor in a split.

“B, I’m nervous. I hope it’s perfect,” I tell her, watching as she turns across the floor.

“My little worry wart, we’ve got this. Confidence Ember, confidence. We’ve been practicing for ages. I’m just worried you might make sweet eyes at Tyler the whole time.” Laughing, she helps me up from the floor. “Stop stressing and just breathe. You have nothing to worry about.”

We take our last look in the mirror and head towards the stage. I wave to a few girls we’ve danced with in the past and fuss with my leotard in nervousness while we take our positions. The lights dim, the music begins playing, and the curtains slowly slide apart. We move forward, taking our positions on the stage and I look out onto the crowd, searching for familiar faces. Nash and Tyler whoop and holler from the back. I grin, keeping my count going in my head.

1..2..3…4..5..6.. With that we begin our routine, sweeping across the stage with delicate moves, our bodies lost in the music. Completely in sync. I feel free as I move across the stage; the tune so haunting and sad. A part of me feels like it’s what I need to truly free myself from the chains that have surrounded my heart for so long. As our dance comes to the end, the lights go dim on the stage and I look out on the crowd, stopping mid step- my heart stops beating in my chest. I’m stunned into immobility, my body is paralyzed at the sight. I feel my knees growing weak, my body ready to collapse. The cheers and applause drown out around me. B follows my eyes to where I’m staring, the tears blurring my vision.

Sitting front row, center to the stage is Hale Jarreau.

And then I hit the floor.

Chapter 2

Hale

War changes a man. There’s no sugar coating it; no glorifying it. No making it anything less than what it really is. I live in fear. Spending every day looking over my shoulder. I can’t be in crowds without breaking out in a cold sweat. My senses heightening with fear and panic. I’m paranoid that at any moment, I’ll be thrown back into the hell I was rescued from. Four years ago I was captured by a group of insurgents while doing a tour in Afghanistan. I was held captive until they almost blew my fucking leg off. Apparently, not being able to walk put a damper on their plans. Surprisingly, they didn’t kill me. I can’t tell you how many times I wished they would kill me. How many times I begged God to take this pain away, to save me from this. Instead of killing me, they put me through hell every day. Now, my life will never be the same. I’m no longer the man that I used to be; I’m a fragment of who I used to be.

I was rescued and kept at Walter Reed in Washington, DC, where I was “rehabilitated” and sent on my way like it never happened. Like the last four years of my life haven’t been ripped away from me. The physical scars may fade, but the scars on the inside are so deep, they’ve taken root in my heart. My heart is black, fueled by vengeance and revenge. I want to be the man they all used to know. I want to be a lot of things that I know I’ll never be again.

I don’t know what brought me here today; I can’t explain why I find myself in this seat, staring up at her blue eyes wide with disbelief. Maybe to torture myself with something I can never have again. I won’t taint her innocence and steal her ability to see the beauty in the world. If I’m condemned to this life of hate¸ I won’t bring her down with me. The best thing I can do is stay away, but you know what they say... misery loves company.

Ember

As I crack open my eyes, the lights blind me. My head’s pounding like I was run over by an eighteen wheeler. I try to sit up, but halt when I realize I’m surrounded and laying on the floor backstage. The haze in my mind clears and causes me to bolt upright. “Hale! Hale! B, where is he?” I scream at her, frantically trying to make my way to the stage.