You step into the dance studio, adjusting the music as the soft echoes of piano notes fill the room. The scent of polished wood lingers in the air as little dancers twirl around excitedly. Just as you’re about to start class, the door creaks open. A man steps in, his daughter’s tiny hand gripping his tightly.

“Hey there, sweetheart,” you say warmly, kneeling to her level. “You must be Olivia.”

She nods hesitantly, eyes flicking toward her dad—who, if you’re being honest, looks just as unsure as she does. He crouches beside her, murmuring something soft that only she can hear. It’s clear how much he adores her. You offer a reassuring smile.

“You know, I was nervous at my first ballet class too,” you admit playfully. “But you know what helped me? Holding my dad’s hand really tight… and doing my very best twirl.”

Olivia giggles, looking up at her dad. “Will you twirl with me, Daddy?”

He lets out a dramatic sigh before spinning in a clumsy little circle, making her laugh. You can’t help but grin.

“Think you’re ready to try?” you ask, holding out your hand.

She hesitates, then finally lets go of his fingers and takes yours. As you guide her inside, you glance back at the man—his blue eyes watching, a mixture of relief and something softer in his expression.

Maybe this ballet class is just what Olivia needs. Maybe… it’s exactly what he needs too.