Mom presses her hand harder on mine. “I know what you’re thinking, Mia. But it’s not going to happen. I’m sorry, I really am,” Mom continues. “The police talked to witnesses. This would never have happened if that car hadn’t gone through a red light.”
No, I think. This would never have happened if I hadn’t been on the back of Louis’s Vespa the night before my big break. It would never have happened if I hadn’t met him.
Someone knocks, and the door opens. In walks Louis. His shirt is ripped at the elbow, and he has red marks on his chin and cheekbones, but he’s standing on his own two feet. Uninjured.
“Mia!” he says, rushing to the side of the bed.
Mom leaves my side and goes to look out the window, giving us privacy. She seems to know Louis already, or at least of him. But I don’t want to be left alone with Louis. I can’t look him in the eye right now.
Still, he stands by the edge of my bed. “I’m so sorry, Mia. I should never have asked you to come with me last night.”
“And I should never have said yes.”
“My dad…，” he starts. “He stayed here most of the night. He was so upset about the whole thing, and he was hoping to see you, but he had to go…”
“To the auditions,” I finish, my voice breaking halfway.
Louis looks down, but I can see tears along the sides of his cheeks. “You got one with ABT.” He wipes his eyes before adding, “And with the Royal Ballet and the Opéra de Paris. I’m so sorry, Mia.”
I thought I was already dead inside, but this ends me. I catch Mom glancing back at me, her face stricken with worry. I start sobbing, quietly at first, but then my whole body shakes. It hurts my chest, everywhere. But I don’t care about the physical pain. That I can manage.
“I am so so so sorry,” Louis says.
I think he’s crying, too, but I can’t see clearly through my own tears. They keep falling and falling, with my hopes and dreams, until the edges of my nightgown are soaked through.
Mom turns to Louis. “Maybe it’s best if you leave now.” Her tone is kind but firm.
Louis casts another glance at me, but I can’t look at him. He tries to grab my hand, but I move it out of the way.
There’s nothing left inside me.
I rest my head on the soggy pillow, facing away from him. I’m not sure how long it takes, but finally he walks the few steps to the door, and he’s gone.
And then I realize, I’m never going to see Louis Dabrowski again.
I’M STILL IN the hospital when I wake up again. My collarbone is still broken; my life is still over. I lie there for a while, not moving, trying not to feel anything, until a nurse walks in with a breakfast tray.
“Bonjour, vous allez bien?” she asks as she places my meal on the table by my bed. Hello, how are you? She uses the formal you, which is normal in French when speaking to someone you don’t know, but it hits me again that I’m stuck in a hospital room, so far away from home.
She checks my chart at the back of my bed. “The doctor,” she starts, searching for her words. “He says you can go.”
I nod, and she makes a move to leave, but I stop her. “My…maman?” I ask.
She smiles and walks back over to me. “She comes soon.”
I nibble on my breakfast after the nurse leaves, but the salt of my tears is the most flavorful thing on the tray. I check the time on my phone: the dorm’s dining room must be abuzz for the very last breakfast. I try to picture myself there, sharing jokes with my friends, but my mind is blank. My heart is empty.
Until a knock resonates on my door, and three beautiful faces pop in. Shocked, I try to sit up, but it hurts to move. Lucy, Anouk, and Audrey come tumbling in, swarming around my bed, their familiar scents and warm smiles filling the room.
“We didn’t bring you flowers,” Lucy says, searching inside her tote bag.
A memory from that night flashes before my eyes: Louis offering me a bouquet of fragrant red roses. I thought they were the most beautiful I had ever seen.
“I don’t need flowers,” I say, my voice flat.
“We thought of something much better,” Anouk adds.
Lucy produces a greasy paper bag and hands it to me. I don’t need to open it to know what’s inside. I’d recognize that buttery scent from a mile away. Even though it smells heavenly, I’m anything but hungry.
“How are you feeling?” Anouk asks as I tear off a piece of the croissant and pop it in my mouth. At least it gives me something to do.