Carter
Eleven months later...
"Cassidy!" Pierre grinned and held his arms out to as I walked into the practice room. "Vous êtes magnifique!"
I chuckled as I accepted the double cheek kiss and hugged him back. I dropped my bag on the floor and pulled out my toe shoes. "Bonjour Pierre."
"Well done," he exclaid. "You might just be fluent by the ti you leave."
"You never know."
I had been in Paris for about a week when I was introduced to Pierre Desrosier. Tall and lanky, albeit muscular, he had the perfect dancer’s physique and with his sexy French accent, I couldn’t help but be drawn to him. Almost from the start, he’d pursued and I was flattered. What initially gave pause was that he looked quite a bit like Carter. I couldn’t imagine dating anyone who looked like the love of my life unless it was the love of my life.
That had all changed three months ago, however. I’d received an email from Carter telling that he’d t soone, and it was pretty serious. It wrecked . Totally.
Lately, however, I was beginning to wonder if I should find out if it would work with Pierre. Granted, I had less than a month before I returned ho, but who knows? It could be fun and who didn’t love a power couple? Especially, when they were portraying a couple in art and happened to love each other in real life.
I deserved to be happy and move on just like Carter had.
"We will work on the transitions today, oui?"
Pulled out of my lancholic thoughts, I nodded. "Oui."
When our ti ca to an end, Pierre hugged tightly. "Beautiful, Cassidy. You were so uninhibited today. Finally. Parfait." He stroked my cheek. "Have dinner with ."
I smiled. "Why not?"
"Oui?"
"Oui, Pierre. Dîner serait belle."
"I’ll collect you at seven."
"Perfect... um... parfait," I corrected, and Pierre chuckled, kissing on the cheek.
I headed back to my dorm room and took a hot bath. We’d worked out hard today and my body was hurting, but it was my heart that was suffering more. The mont I’d said yes to Pierre, I knew I had to let Carter go. Irrational, perhaps, but I didn’t know if I could continue to hold out hope that he would ever be mine and it was ti for to live a little. I hoped it was, anyway.
After taking extra care with my hair and make-up, I opened the door to the handso and incomparable dancer and let fate take my life wherever it led .
One month later...
It was the beginning of October, and I had been ho from Paris for just over a week and couldn’t get out of bed. For the most part, my mother had left alone to my depression up until now, but the morning before Carter was due ho, she pushed into my room and sat on my bed. The ti had co to confess.
"Okay, my sweet baby girl, I have given you so space, but now I’m really worried. I realize I have barely a week before you’re eighteen and then I can’t technically make you go to a doctor, but will you please tell what’s going on? Carter’s coming ho tomorrow, and I need to know why you’re not excited. I need my Sassidy back."
"I’m not feeling very sassy today, Mom."
"What’s going on, honey?"
"I did sothing. Sothing bad," I whispered.
She slid my hair away from my face. "Cassidy, what could you have possibly done that would make you dread seeing the man you love?"
"Mom, Carter’s with soone else, please don’t make it worse."
She sighed. "Which is all very weird."
"He’s moved on. I did, too."
"What? What did you do?"
I sat up and pulled the covers up to my chest. "I can’t tell you."
"Why not?"
"You’ll hate ."
"Baby girl, there is nothing in this world that you could do that will make stop loving you."
I tried to calm my churning stomach. "I slept with soone in Paris."
My mom took a deep breath. "Okay, honey. It happens. Was it soone you loved?"
"Not really, no." I shook my head.
"Was it Pierre?"
I nodded. "How did you know?"
"Well, he’s handso and you’d been spending a lot of ti together," she said. "Plus, he looks a bit like Carter and I wondered if you’d be able to resist Carter with a French accent. I know I couldn’t."
I snorted. "Well, I should have because I’m pretty sure I slept with him for all the wrong reasons."
"Oh, honey, been there." My mom smiled sympathetically. "Why do you think you slept with him?"
"I was mad."
"At Carter?"
I groaned with a nod. "Pierre was in the right place at the right ti, I guess. Plus, I just thought I’d get it over and done with...the losing my virginity thing." I swallowed down the bile threatening to spill and dropped my face into my hands. "But I regretted it the second it was over."
"What happened?" Mom pressed.
"It was awful, Mom. I an, sex wasn’t as bad as I thought it would be... it didn’t really hurt, but when I was naked with him he pointed out everything wrong with my body, and—"
"Like what?" Mom asked, her voice had taken on a weird shrill quality about it.
"My body?"
"Yes."
"Um, I have a large butt, my thighs are a little thick and my breasts were bordering on porn sized."
"That little fucker."
"Mom!" I nearly choked, I was so surprised by my mother’s swearing. It’s not like she’d never sworn before, but I don’t know that I’d ever heard her use the F-word.
"Well, he is. You’re beautiful, Cassidy. Inside and out, and if that little shit couldn’t see it, then good riddance."
"You’re supposed to say that, you’re my mom."
"I don’t have to say anything of the sort."
"Mom," I groaned.
"You didn’t sleep with him again did you?"
"No, but not because of what he said. I didn’t know we weren’t being exclusive. Apparently, I was one in a line of many. I am just such an idiot."
"Honey, we all make mistakes, and it’s your ti to make choices that push the limits. You can’t be so hard on yourself."
I burst into tears. "No, you don’t understand."
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