hapter 8\u00a0<\/p>\n
Chapter 8\u00a0<\/p>\n
DYLAN\u00a0<\/p>\n
95\u00a0<\/p>\n
My parents left early this morning to visit my grandmother\u2019s estate. She passed away a few months ago, and my mother had been holding onto the hope that she\u2019d inherit something\u2013enough to pull us out of this mess and maybe give us a fresh start. They needed it. We all did.\u00a0<\/p>\n
I, on the other hand, chose to stay behind. I had other plans\u2013plans that involved swallowing my pride and making a few calls. Despite everything we\u2019d been through, I was still clinging to the hope that someone out there would be willing to help.\u00a0<\/p>\n
I pulled out my phone and dialed my best friend, Diane.\u00a0<\/p>\n
The line rang a few times before she picked up.\u00a0<\/p>\n
\u201cHey, Diane!\u201d I greeted quickly, trying to sound more upbeat than I felt.\u00a0<\/p>\n
\u201cDylan?\u201d Her voice was soft, hesitant\u2013like she wasn\u2019t exactly thrilled to hear from me.\u00a0<\/p>\n
I ignored the way her tone made my stomach twist. \u201cI was just calling to check up on you,\u201d I said, keeping my voice light.\u00a0<\/p>\n
\u201cI\u2019m fine, sweetie,\u201d she answered, a little too fast. \u201cI heard about your parents. Are you okay?\u201d\u00a0<\/p>\n
I hesitated for half a second. Was I okay? Not really. But unpacking all of that wasn\u2019t why I called. \u201cI\u2019m fine. But honestly, I didn\u2019t call to talk about that,\u201d I admitted, steering the conversation somewhere else. Somewhere safer.\u00a0<\/p>\n
\u201cOh? Then what\u2019s up, hun?\u201d Her voice softened a little, the warmth creeping back in.\u00a0<\/p>\n
I took a deep breath, bracing myself. \u201cIs there any job you can recommend me for? Didn\u2019t you just open your dance studio? Maybe you\u2019re still looking for a dance teacher?\u201d\u00a0<\/p>\n
The words tasted bitter in my mouth. Once upon a time, I\u2019d been a rising star\u2014a promising prima ballerina with a future so bright it practically sparkled. But I threw all of that away. And for what? A man who barely even loved me back.\u00a0<\/p>\n
I still remembered the day I gave it all up\u2013leaving behind years of blood, sweat, and sacrifice to marry Beckett. At the time, I didn\u2019t care what I was losing. All I wanted was him. But now? Now I regretted every choice that led me here.\u00a0<\/p>\n
Diane laughed softly. \u201cWhy are you looking for work? Are you bored? Or is Beckett working late again?\u201d\u00a0<\/p>\n
I swallowed the lump rising in my throat. \u201cWe\u2019re divorced,\u201d I said plainly. No hesitation. No sugarcoating.\u00a0<\/p>\n
\u201cYou\u2019re what?\u201d Her voice shot up an octave, full of disbelief.\u00a0<\/p>\n
\u201cTechnically, we\u2019re still finalizing everything, but\u2026 yeah,\u201d I explained, trying to sound like it didn\u2019t still hurt.\u00a0<\/p>\n
10:24 Thu, Dec 25\u00a0<\/p>\n
Chapter 8\u00a0<\/p>\n
94\u00a0<\/p>\n
\u201cBut\u2013wait\u2013you\u2019re divorcing Beckett? I thought\u2026\u201d She trailed off, her voice softer now, more careful. \u201cWhy do you even need a job? Shouldn\u2019t you be getting half of his fortune?\u201d\u00a0<\/p>\n
I let out a dry, humorless laugh. \u201cI signed a prenup.\u201d\u00a0<\/p>\n
Diane groaned. \u201cOh, Dylan, why? You could\u2019ve saved your family with that alimony!\u201d\u00a0<\/p>\n
\u201cYeah, well\u2026 too late for that,\u201d I sighed, my voice heavy with exhaustion. I didn\u2019t want to get into the messy details. Not today. \u201cAnyway, I didn\u2019t call to talk about my love life. I just\u2026 I need work, Di. Can you help me?\u201d\u00a0<\/p>\n
A beat of silence stretched between us before she finally spoke. \u201cOkay, hun. Come by the studio this afternoon. I\u2019ll see if there\u2019s a spot for you.\u201d\u00a0<\/p>\n
*\u00a0<\/p>\n
*\u00a0<\/p>\n
That afternoon, I stood outside Diane\u2019s dance studio, staring at the glossy sign above the door. It was everything I thought she always wanted\u2013modern, sleek, and buzzing with energy. Through the floor\u2013to- ceiling windows, I could see a class in session. Young girls in matching leotards spun across the polished floor, their laughter filling the air. A familiar ache bloomed in my chest. Once, that had been my world. My dream. Until I gave it all up for Beckett.\u00a0<\/p>\n
I shook off the thought and pushed the door open. The faint scent of sweat and lavender air freshener hit me as I stepped inside. Diane stood at the reception desk, tapping away on her phone, looking every bit the successful business owner in her tailored leggings and designer sneakers.\u00a0<\/p>\n
\u201cHey, Di,\u201d I greeted, forcing a smile.\u00a0<\/p>\n
Her eyes flicked up, scanning me from head to toe. \u201cDylan, hey!\u201d she said, but there was something in her tone\u2013a tightness that hadn\u2019t been there before. \u201cYou made it.\u201d\u00a0<\/p>\n
\u201cOf course,\u201d I said, dropping my bag by the counter. \u201cThanks again for giving me a shot. I really appreciate it.\u201d\u00a0<\/p>\n
\u201cNo problem,\u201d she said breezily, locking her phone and sliding it into her pocket. \u201cI had a couple of shifts open, so it worked out.\u201d She turned and grabbed a clipboard from the desk. \u201cSo, I can offer you a few beginner classes for now\u2013mostly kids. Nothing fancy, but hey, it\u2019s a start, right?\u201d\u00a0<\/p>\n
I nodded, ignoring the small twist of disappointment in my stomach. \u201cThat sounds perfect. When do you\u00a0<\/p>\n
want me to start?\u201d\u00a0<\/p>\n
\u201cTomorrow,\u201d she said, scribbling something on the clipboard. \u201cOh, and about the pay\u2013fifteen dollars an hour, is that okay with you?\u201d\u00a0<\/p>\n
I blinked. \u201cFifteen?\u201d My voice came out softer than I meant. Surely I misheard her.\u00a0<\/p>\n
Diane gave a half\u2013shrug. \u201cI mean, you haven\u2019t exactly been in the game for a while, Dylan. You were great back then, but things have changed. I have other teachers who are actively competing and choreographing. I can\u2019t justify paying you the same as them.\u201d\u00a0<\/p>\n
Chapter 8\u00a0<\/p>\n
I swallowed hard. It wasn\u2019t the amount that stung\u2013it was the way she said it. Like I was a charity case, she was humoring. And the worst part? She wasn\u2019t wrong. My career was a ghost of what it used to be. But still\u2026\u00a0<\/p>\n
\u201cFifteen is fine,\u201d I said quietly, my pride cracking just a little more under the weight of reality. I needed the job. I couldn\u2019t afford to argue.\u00a0<\/p>\n
\u201cGreat,\u201d she said, flashing a bright smile as if we hadn\u2019t just taken a sledgehammer to my dignity. \u201cI knew you\u2019d understand.\u201d\u00a0<\/p>\n
I tried to smile back, but it didn\u2019t reach my eyes. Diane had always been blunt, but there was something different now. Colder. Like whatever warmth she used to have for me had vanished the moment Beckett was no longer in the picture. Maybe I shouldn\u2019t have been surprised. When I was Mrs. Beckett Sinclair, she treated me like royalty. Now? I was just another girl desperate for a paycheck.\u00a0<\/p>\n
\u201cAnything else I should know?\u201d I asked, keeping my tone light.\u00a0<\/p>\n
\u201cNope, that\u2019s it. Come by at four tomorrow, and I\u2019ll have your class schedule ready,\u201d she said, already sliding back into her usual busy routine.\u00a0<\/p>\n
I picked up my bag, feeling a strange mix of gratitude and humiliation swirling inside me. \u201cThanks, Diane. I mean it.\u201d\u00a0<\/p>\n
\u201cSure thing, hun,\u201d she said, her smile back to being a little too perfect. \u201cSee you tomorrow.\u201d\u00a0<\/p>\n
As I walked back out onto the sidewalk, the weight of everything pressed down on me. It wasn\u2019t just the low pay. It was the way Diane looked at me now\u2013like I was less. Less important. Less impressive. Less of everything.\u00a0<\/p>\n
Maybe I was starting to realize how much of my life had revolved around being someone\u2019s wife. And without Beckett\u2019s name behind me, I wasn\u2019t sure who I was anymore.\u00a0<\/p>\n
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The Alchemist of Broken Dreams by Sienna Rose Blackwell 8 hapter 8\u00a0 Chapter 8\u00a0 DYLAN\u00a0 95\u00a0 My parents left early […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"site-sidebar-layout":"default","site-content-layout":"","ast-site-content-layout":"default","site-content-style":"default","site-sidebar-style":"default","ast-global-header-display":"","ast-banner-title-visibility":"","ast-main-header-display":"","ast-hfb-above-header-display":"","ast-hfb-below-header-display":"","ast-hfb-mobile-header-display":"","site-post-title":"","ast-breadcrumbs-content":"","ast-featured-img":"","footer-sml-layout":"","ast-disable-related-posts":"","theme-transparent-header-meta":"","adv-header-id-meta":"","stick-header-meta":"","header-above-stick-meta":"","header-main-stick-meta":"","header-below-stick-meta":"","astra-migrate-meta-layouts":"default","ast-page-background-enabled":"default","ast-page-background-meta":{"desktop":{"background-color":"var(--ast-global-color-5)","background-image":"","background-repeat":"repeat","background-position":"center center","background-size":"auto","background-attachment":"scroll","background-type":"","background-media":"","overlay-type":"","overlay-color":"","overlay-opacity":"","overlay-gradient":""},"tablet":{"background-color":"","background-image":"","background-repeat":"repeat","background-position":"center center","background-size":"auto","background-attachment":"scroll","background-type":"","background-media":"","overlay-type":"","overlay-color":"","overlay-opacity":"","overlay-gradient":""},"mobile":{"background-color":"","background-image":"","background-repeat":"repeat","background-position":"center center","background-size":"auto","background-attachment":"scroll","background-type":"","background-media":"","overlay-type":"","overlay-color":"","overlay-opacity":"","overlay-gradient":""}},"ast-content-background-meta":{"desktop":{"background-color":"var(--ast-global-color-4)","background-image":"","background-repeat":"repeat","background-position":"center center","background-size":"auto","background-attachment":"scroll","background-type":"","background-media":"","overlay-type":"","overlay-color":"","overlay-opacity":"","overlay-gradient":""},"tablet":{"background-color":"var(--ast-global-color-4)","background-image":"","background-repeat":"repeat","background-position":"center center","background-size":"auto","background-attachment":"scroll","background-type":"","background-media":"","overlay-type":"","overlay-color":"","overlay-opacity":"","overlay-gradient":""},"mobile":{"background-color":"var(--ast-global-color-4)","background-image":"","background-repeat":"repeat","background-position":"center center","background-size":"auto","background-attachment":"scroll","background-type":"","background-media":"","overlay-type":"","overlay-color":"","overlay-opacity":"","overlay-gradient":""}},"footnotes":""},"categories":[69],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-24359","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-the-alphas-golden-cage-novel"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/kezpres.xyz\/novelreading\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/24359","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/kezpres.xyz\/novelreading\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/kezpres.xyz\/novelreading\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/kezpres.xyz\/novelreading\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/kezpres.xyz\/novelreading\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=24359"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/kezpres.xyz\/novelreading\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/24359\/revisions"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/kezpres.xyz\/novelreading\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=24359"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/kezpres.xyz\/novelreading\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=24359"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/kezpres.xyz\/novelreading\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=24359"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}