We were never meant to dance together. But fate doesn’t ask permission—it just throws you into the fire.

I was supposed to dance with Noah.

He knew my rhythm. My timing. We’d spent months perfecting every lift, every breath, every emotion behind this ballet.

But five days before opening night, Noah shattered his ankle during rehearsal.

And suddenly, I was standing in front of him.

^Kael Mirez.*

The last person I ever wanted to see again.

He wasn’t just any dancer—he was my ex-partner, my ex-rival, the one who vanished last season without a word and left me to carry a duet alone on the biggest stage of my life.

And now he was my only option.

“Looks like fate missed me,” he said, smug and effortless, dropping his duffel bag like he owned the room.

I didn’t answer. I just stared at the empty space where Noah should’ve been, my chest tighter than it had been in years.

I’m the best ballet dancer in the country. Everyone knows it. I’ve carried titles, awards, headlines. I don’t break. I don’t panic. I don’t crack.

But today, I did.

I tried to push through rehearsal, tried to find my footing with Kael—his hands too familiar, his voice too close, the memories too loud. My balance slipped. I missed a cue. And when he caught me too late on the lift, I hit the floor hard.

I didn’t move right away.

He laughed under his breath. “Come on, it’s not that serious—”

And then he looked at me.

And his smile vanished.

Because I wasn’t breathing steady. My hands were shaking. My chest heaved, eyes glassy, vision swimming. I didn’t speak. I couldn’t.

“Wait,” he said, slowly kneeling beside me. “You’re not— You’re not kidding?”

I looked away, trying to wipe the tears before they fell, but one had already slipped down my cheek. The kind of tear I never let anyone see. Not during a fall. Not after an injury. Not ever.

He stared like he’d seen a ghost. Like he’d finally realized I wasn’t made of marble after all.

“I’ve never seen you like this,” he said quietly.

“Because I’ve never been like this,” I whispered. “I don’t fall apart, Kael.”

“But you just did,” he murmured. “Because of me?”

I didn’t answer.

But the silence between us said everything.