“That’s understandable. Every time I thought about getting clean, I was terrified about who I’d be without drugs. But after I blew off Bear, I had no one to take the other side of the rope, no light at the end of the beast-infested tunnel to remind me why the fight was worth it.”

She put the pies in the oven, avoiding his gaze as she set the timer.

“But you, babe,” he said, taking her in his arms again, making her see him. “You’ve thrived. You have the world at your fingertips, and you’re not alone. You have the support of me and all our friends, of Elisa, Angela, and all those little girls who look up to you as their guiding light. I wish you’d give it a shot and not put those dreams you worked so hard for away for good.”

“It’s not that easy. Dance has always been my guiding light, my stronghold,” she said, using the same words he used to describe Truman. “It’s always been something that has consistently made me happy, and the thought of being humiliated onstage will absolutely ruin that for me. I know myself, Quincy. Once that happens, I’ll never get that joy of dancing back. But right now I have it, even if I’m only dancing for myself between classes or after work, and I’m okay with keeping dance for myself and teaching. I don’t get anxious when I teach, but every time I even think about getting up onstage, I fill with anxiety that my leg will give out or my foot or hip will hurt.”

“That’s how you felt around me, remember? You were okay texting, but you were nervous with me in person.”

She nodded, smiling.

“And look how good we are together. You’re human, babe. If you get up onstage and your hip or foot hurts, the people watching you—”

“Will pity me,” she said strongly. “And I don’t want that.”

“Like hell they will. Trust me on this, beautiful. They’ll be so enthralled by what you’re doing. You’re the only one who will notice your flaws. You’re the expert, a perfectionist, but the rest of us are thrilled just to be given the chance to see you dance.”

She traced a sunflower on his chest and said, “But what if I can’t finish a performance?”

“Then you’ll get your applause early.”

“You make it sound easy,” she said with a smile.

“Not easy, babe, just realistic. Do you think Elisa or Angela is going to be critical of your dancing? Or Kennedy or Dottie? All of them are going to cheer on Miss Woni.”

She laughed.

“I’m serious, Roni. I get that you don’t want to be humiliated. Nobody does. And the last thing I want for you is to have the joy of dance stolen away. But I don’t think you’ve given yourself a fair shot. Maybe you can start small, do a private dance for me.”

She blinked at him, her lips curving playfully. “Like a striptease?”