The Next Line ( The Lineage Series #2)

Chapter 45

I don't wait.

I take off down the corridor, past crew members and bouquets and gold-framed mirrors.

My heart is thundering.

Each step heavier than the last.

Three years.

Three years of silence.

Three years of wondering if she'd remember me if I ever showed up.

And now—

She's just on the other side of that door.

The dressing room is quiet.

The crowd is still out there—applauding, calling my name—but I'm here. Alone. Chest heaving. Still in costume. Still catching my breath from the final curtain call.

Odette is gone.
Aurora is all that's left.

I sit in front of the mirror, slowly unclipping my headpiece. Swan feathers fall to the floor like pieces of something I can't hold together anymore.

Three years.
Three countries.
Three lifetimes.

All without him.

Until—

The door bursts open.

I turn sharply, expecting a stagehand.

But it's not.

It's him.

Joshuan.

The world stops.

He looks like he ran through a storm to get here—hair damp, chest rising, black jacket creased and familiar. Eyes locked on me like I'm the first breath he's taken in years.

And for a moment, neither of us moves.

Neither of us speaks.

Because how do you speak after a goodbye that stretched three years wide?

I stand slowly.

"W-What are you doing here?" My voice is quieter than I expect. Unsteady.

He swallows hard.

"I came for you."

A laugh escapes me—sharp, broken. "After everything... why now?"

He steps forward. "Because I never stopped loving you."

The air leaves my lungs.

"After we broke up three years ago, I couldn't stop thinking about you." he says. "I know you left me. And I let you. I told myself it was your dream for become a famous ballerina. That I had to let you chase it. But the truth is—I wasn't ready to fight for us."

He shakes his head.

"I kept thinking, maybe if I'd said the right thing, done more, you wouldn't have gone. But deep down... I know you had to. I know you needed to find that stage on your own."

Tears fill my eyes.

"But not once," he adds, voice raw, "not once did I stop carrying you with me."

I break.

"I'm sorry," I whisper, words catching on the sob I've been holding in since Paris became my home. "I didn't mean to leave you. I just... I didn't know how to be everything I wanted and still hold on to you."

He steps closer.

"You didn't have to hold on, princesa. You just had to let me walk with you."

I cover my face, and he's there—his hands gently pulling mine away.

"I wasn't perfect," he says. "I was angry and hurt that you were leaving but I never hated you princesa."

"I hated myself," I confess. "Every time I reached for my phone and didn't call. Every night I stared at the Eiffel Tower and wondered if you'd ever forgive me."

He smiles—small, aching. "I need to ask you something."

He reaches into his pocket.

And pulls out a small black box.

I freeze.

He kneels. Right there. In the feathers, the flowers, the scent of roses and regret.

"Aurora Elise Sinclair," he says, voice low and trembling, "I've waited three years to say this."

"I don't care where we live. I don't care what stage you dance on. I only care that when you're done dancing—you come home. To me."

He opens the box.

The ring sparkles like something we never lost, only paused.

"Marry me and become Mrs.Carvalho."

I drop to my knees with him.

Tears falling freely now.

"I left you," I whisper, "but I never stopped loving you Joshuan."

He presses his forehead to mine. "Then come back."

I nod.

"Yes," I breathe.

"Yes. Yes I will marry you."