A lot can change in four days. For Amila, the tetrad of time brought many to her life. One of which was where she presently stood. With her arms stretched wistfully above her head and her eyes closed, she pulled her stomach muscles in and lifted her heels off the oak floor with the grace of a butterfly breaking from its cocoon for the first time. The earbuds she wore canceled out the audible hum she let out from fully utilizing her en pointe slippers again. She relished in the burst of excitement that brimmed within from being able to hold her body weight on her toes.

She lowered her feet back to the floor and opened her eyes with happiness drawn on her face. Her smile grew wider from the man standing in the doorway proudly slapping his hands together. Amila removed the earbuds to hear his enthusiastic applause.

"Sav, I didn't know you were here." She said, tapping her watch pausing the music she had strobing.

"Just walked in." He gestured to the foyer as if it was just around the corner when it was around the hall. "You're looking good. Are you sure you took a year off?"

She chuckled, her hands going to her waist. "My arches are sure." She whirled around turning back to the mirror; her mesh pink skirt danced around her juxtaposing her flesh-toned leotard and leggings. She stretched her arms. "And so do my shoulders. Not to mention my calves and thighs. Abs, too and back."

"I'm sore, Sav." She gripped her waist tighter with a slight smile that created a sparkle in her dark brown eyes. "But I love it. I missed this."

"Because you're a dancer, Mila." He took her hand and she instinctively knew what to do. She took a step away from him then twirled towards him. Laughter erupted from her ribcage as she bumped into his body. Her timing was off but it felt good to twirl again. "Rusty but still beautiful. Graceful. Elegant."

She gripped his shoulders and rolled her eyes. "Savion, you're a liar. That was not graceful. More like a newborn flamingo." She peeled her body off his and stepped out of his space. "But it's only been four days. More time here and I'll be good again."

Amila moved to the barre as he watched her like she was a work of art; fascinating him with every movement she made. Oblivious to Savion's entrapped gaze, she wrapped her hand around the unfinished oak bar and slid into the first position with ease. She ignored the vibration of her watch as she worked through the five positions. She knew who it was. It was seven in the morning and it was the 'good morning' text he'd been sending for the last three days. A text she wasn't ready to reply to. He left her the morning after Thanksgiving. He didn't deserve a reply. Not now. Not when she wasn't strong enough to give one.

Valentina was the motherly energy she needed that morning when she broke out in silent tears in front of the coffee maker. Cream was better in her coffee than tears but unfortunately the latter dropped in the mug first. The older woman embraced her warmly and helped her piece herself back together. It was something that caught Amila by surprise but she was grateful nonetheless. Upon getting on the flight back to Houston she knew what she had to do. She went back to the house and typed up a letter. A professional letter.

"I think you'll be ready for Christmas Eve," Savion said calling her from her concentrated thoughts.

"What's happening on that day..." She stopped her footwork and looked away from her reflection to him. "I mean for me."

He moved to her side, "Before you start listing reasons for negation just hear me out."

"No." She quickly said with a shake of her head. "I'm not performing in your program." She shook her head again this time with more determination. "Do you know how many people are going to be there? The tickets sold out in a day. You sold out the Alley Theatre, Savion. I'm not."

"Come on, Amila." He confiscated the spot in front of her blocking her view of the mirror. "It's two and a half weeks. Mighty works can be crafted in that amount of time and it'll be a pas de deux. You won't be out there alone. I'll be there with you."

She gasped with mortification. "My endurance sucks. Plus, I need to lose like....twenty pounds before I'm even performance ready."

"You look magnificent." He gestured to her frame. "And I can lift you."

So, could Dominic. Her mind whispered and her mind was flooded with the many times he had her in his arms with her feet off the ground. She squeezed her eyes together and held the bridge of her nose trying to clear the images of him out of her head.

Savion's hands on her waist called her eyes to open. "You're Amila fuckin' Johnson. You are ballet. You can dance better than me and together we'll be cataclysmic. We burned the stage up as teenagers. We can close a show out like adults."

"Sav, I can't d..." She started but the way he lifted her chin silenced her.

"We can." He said with utter confidence. "I'll be many early mornings and late nights but we can do this. I believe in us. You trust me, right."

She nodded. Savion was her best friend. Other than Deja, he was the only other person she knew the longest. She trusted him completely. He always had her back and motivated her when she started doubting herself. When she told him that she wanted to dip a metaphorical toe back into the ballet pool he gave her a key to his studio. Even now he was ready to enlist her in his studio's inaugural show. She knew she could trust him so she nodded.

"Then be my swan..." He lower on one knee whimsical with an outstretched hand. "...again."

She smirked. "Swan Lake in the winter is a bold move, my friend."

"Well, I'm a bold fucka." He matched her smirk. "Join me in my boldness."

She let out a breath doing the training session would be laborious and tortuous but excitement vibrated beneath her skin. The thought of being back on the stage filled her with a joy that lifted the corners of her mouth and she couldn't think of anyone other than Savion that would make being on the stage worth it. They started on the stage together and she didn't see any reason why to not have him by her side during her comeback.

She sat her hand elegantly against his palm. "I will...be your swan."

Savion kissed her hand and sprung to his feet. He hugged her with great enthusiasm then let her go. "I'll get changed and we can get started. I have an hour before dancers show up and we have no time to waste."

She giggled watching him mutter off things to work on as he eagerly left the practice room. She held her waist and slowly nodded to herself. This was happening. She was going to be performing in front of an audience. 

An audience of eight hundred and twenty-four people. She glanced over at her duffle bag where her phone was buried. A twinge of pain nipped at her hurt knowing there was one person she wished could be one of those eight hundred and twenty-four people.

 But he wouldn't because she had already sent out that professional email and she no longer wanted to be his contractual girlfriend. She didn't need his money, she had found the strength to use her own.

Dominic and she were over even though her body still craved him. She knew if she answered his text she'd give into him and be right back where she was. But she didn't want to be his sex toy although she wanted his sex; yearned his touch, thirsted for his lips, and hungered for his body and mind. All of him. He wasn't ready to give her all of him and she couldn't agree to that partnership anymore.

Contract terminated.

It looks like their stubbornness is in effect? But who do you think will outlast, Amila or Dominic?

What do you think made Amila terminate the contract; was it that he didn't share with her when she shared so much or that he left her the day after Thanksgiving?

Do you think it's good that she accepted Savion's offer to perform with him and be his swan?

Should she reply to Dominic's text even though she doesn't think she's strong enough?