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53- Raeanne

I wiped angrily at the tears smeared across my cheeks as I stared at my phone. I’d had two students in my beginning ballet class this morning, and three no-shows. Ned Eclair and his dang charisma had undoubtedly stolen more of my students. Even the three-year olds wanted to compete.

I sighed and stared at the video that CunningHam had posted that morning. On one side was my adagio set to Moonlight Sonata, a series of combinations I’d been doing for years—one of my favorite pieces. And on the other side was this guy, with his goofy grin and a glass of wine that dribbled over the side of the glass as he swayed. And then at the end, he put the glass down and spun some gorgeous blond girl into his arms. Who was she? Was that his girlfriend? His wife?

I squinted at the phone, hating myself a little bit as I watched the video again. Nope. No ring.

A frustrated sigh escaped my lips as I put the phone down. What was I going to do? I was already going to be pulling from savings to pay the over
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