Chapter 8 — The Last Dance

“Then let me be disappointed by the truth.”

Luke brought Evelyn’s hand to his mouth.

For a moment, his lips rested against her knuckles without moving.

“I’ll be there,” he said.

She slept with that promise beside her.

The procedure took place the following week.

Claire visited before Evelyn was taken downstairs.

Rosa brought clothes that fastened at the front.

Luke stayed until the staff asked him to leave.

“Tell me before you go,” Evelyn said.

“I’m going now.”

“Will you be here when I wake up?”

“Yes.”

He was.

She knew by the chair creaking and the careful way he placed the water cup in her hand.

But over the days that followed, he came less often.

When he did visit, he seemed reluctant to speak.

Once, Evelyn woke with her hand resting on an empty chair.

She called his name.

Rosa answered from the doorway.

“He had to go out.”

“Did he leave a message?”

“No, sweetheart.”

Evelyn turned toward the wall.

The next time he arrived, she kept her hands beneath the blanket.

“You promised to call.”

“I know.”

“Do you?”

“Yes.”

She waited.

He sat down.

“I’m sorry.”

“That’s becoming a very easy thing for you to say.”

He made a sound as though she had struck him.

She did not soften it.

On the morning the dressings were removed, Evelyn asked for Luke.

The nurse said he had not arrived.

She asked again after the doctor came in.

Still nothing.

“You don’t have to postpone,” the doctor told her.

“I wasn’t going to.”

She sat upright while the layers were removed.

Light reached her first.

Too much of it.

She blinked, watering eyes struggling to adjust.

The room emerged in pieces.

A pale sleeve.

A blue chair.

The dark shape of the window.

She looked toward the place where Luke usually sat.

Empty.

“Take your time,” the doctor said.

Evelyn turned her head slowly.

The nurse smiled.

She could see the smile.

That small fact broke something open in her chest.

She laughed and cried at once.

Then she reached for the empty chair.

Owen Price arrived after lunch.

Evelyn recognized him from the years Nathaniel had spent climbing through her father’s company.

He had been younger then, always carrying a tablet and avoiding arguments at the dinner table.

Now he stood in her hospital room with an expensive coat over one arm.

“Mr. Cross asked me to collect you.”

“No.”

Owen lowered his voice.

“The man you’ve been calling Luke is waiting.”

Evelyn looked at him.

“Then he can come here.”

“He’s arranged something privately.”

“Why?”

“I think he wants to explain.”

She studied Owen’s face.

He looked uncomfortable.

That was the first honest thing about the visit.

“Where?”

“I have the address.”

“Give it to me.”

He hesitated.

Evelyn held out her hand.

After a moment, he showed her his phone.

A property on the river road.

She knew it.

She had lived there.

“He’s at my husband’s house?”

Owen did not answer.

Evelyn picked up her own phone and called Claire.

Owen waited while she explained where she had been invited.

“Do you want me to go with you?” Claire asked.

“No. But call me at seven. If I don’t answer, come.”

“Evelyn.”

“I need him to say it to me.”

Claire was quiet for a moment.

“All right. Keep your phone.”

Evelyn ended the call.

“Now you can take me.”

There was a stop at a private dressing suite.

Evelyn almost refused to get out.

Then Owen said, “These are his arrangements. You can refuse them.”

She looked at him.

“Can I?”

“Yes.”

“Tell him I chose to continue.”

Owen nodded.

Inside, a woman offered dresses, shoes, and discreet help.

Evelyn chose a dark blue dress with sleeves.

She refused the necklace.

When she stood before the mirror, she saw a thinner version of the woman she remembered.

There was a faint scar beside one eyebrow.

She touched it.

The stylist reached for a brush.

“Would you like your hair across that side?”

“No.”

The woman lowered the brush.

Evelyn looked at herself for another moment.

“Leave it where I can see it.”

The river house had not changed.

The front steps were clean.

The same brass lantern hung beside the door.

Inside, someone had placed fresh jasmine in a bowl on the entrance table.

Evelyn stopped.

She had once kept jasmine there because Nathaniel had mentioned liking the scent.

She could not remember how many times she had replaced the flowers without him noticing.

Owen closed the door.

“Through there.”

The drawing room waited at the end of the hall.

Its doors were shut.

On a narrow table lay a folded silk blindfold.

Evelyn looked at it.

“No.”

“It’s part of—”

“I said no.”

Owen stepped away.

She took out her phone.

A message had arrived.

One dance. Then you can ask me anything.

No name.

She looked at the closed doors.

“Owen.”

“Yes?”

“Who sent this?”

His gaze moved toward the room.

Evelyn put the phone inside her small purse and picked up the silk.

She remembered the hand at the hospital.

The scar.

The familiar voice calling her name.

“If this is another trick,” she said, “you’ll have to live with helping him do it.”

Owen’s expression tightened.

“I know.”

She tied the silk herself.

“Open the door.”

She heard the room before she entered it.

Music.

A waltz.

The piece from her eighteenth birthday.

A hand settled beneath hers.

She knew it.

He led her forward.

“Luke?”

“Yes.”

The answer was barely audible.

Evelyn kept her face lifted.

“Why weren’t you there this morning?”

“I couldn’t.”

“Couldn’t, or wouldn’t?”

His thumb moved across her fingers.

“Both.”

“At least that’s an answer.”

He drew her into the first turn.

The steps were familiar.

Too familiar.

She had practiced them in this room years ago while her father laughed at how seriously she took the evening.

Nathaniel had arrived late.

She had forgiven him before he apologized.

Now the same body guided her past the same windows.

Evelyn could feel the old route beneath her feet.

“You remember this,” she said.

“Yes.”

“Do you remember what you told me afterward?”

He stopped turning.

The music continued.

“You said I’d looked happy.”

His hand moved at her waist.

“I remember.”

“I was.”

His breathing changed.

She could feel it through the small space between them.

“I know.”

“No. You knew I was happy. You didn’t ask why.”

The waltz reached its final passage.

He tried to guide her through another step.

Evelyn let him.

Then she stopped.

“Enough.”

She removed the silk.

Nathaniel stood in front of her.

His face was thinner. There was a pale mark beneath his jaw she did not remember.

His eyes were fixed on hers.

Evelyn looked at him for a long time.

He seemed to be waiting for something.

A scream.

An accusation.

She stepped away.

“Where’s Luke?”

Nathaniel’s mouth tightened.

“You’re looking at me.”

“I asked where Luke is.”

His hand dropped.

“There is no man coming through that door.”

“Then tell me what you’ve done.”

“Evelyn.”

She turned toward the exit.

He moved in front of her.

“Don’t walk away.”

“Move.”

“You said you wanted the truth.”

“And you’ve given me a costume and a dance.”

His face changed.

She saw the anger arrive.

It was horribly familiar.

“Was any of it enough for you?”

“What?”

“The apartment. The nights. Everything you asked for.”

Evelyn stared at him.

“Is that what you think this is? A bill?”

“No.”

“Then stop listing what you gave me.”

He reached for her hand.

She pulled it away.

“Nathaniel, I need you to stand back.”

For a second, he obeyed.

Then she said Luke’s name again.

The distance vanished.

He caught her wrist.

“You won’t see him again.”

Evelyn went still.

Outside, a car passed along the river road.

She heard it clearly.

“What does that mean?”

Nathaniel looked at her with a jealousy she had once begged to see.

Now it made her cold.

“It means you’re done choosing him over me.”

Her phone began ringing inside her purse.

Seven o’clock.

Nathaniel glanced at it.

Evelyn held his gaze.

“If you want me to stay, let me answer.”

He released her wrist.

She took out the phone.

Claire said her name.

“I’m here,” Evelyn replied.

“Are you leaving?”

Evelyn looked at Nathaniel.

“Not yet.”

After the call, she put the phone away.

Then she said, “If I stay, I want to know he’s safe.”

Nathaniel’s expression closed.

“Stay,” he said, “and I’ll keep him safe.”