“Zayn!” I screamed. “Dancing is my life—it’s everything I’ve worked for! It’s the dream my grandmother believed in. If you break my leg, I’ll never be able to dance again!”
Tears welled up in his eyes, but his face remained cold and resolute.
“Xandra, don’t be afraid,” he whispered. “It’ll only hurt for a moment.”
Then, as if to justify the unforgivable, he added, “Forgive me. Even if you can’t dance anymore, you’ll still have me. But if Melinda loses, she’ll have nothing…”
Ignoring my desperate pleas, he raised the club high. And then—
CRACK.
“AHHH!”
My scream echoed through the empty backstage, raw and filled with agony. Bone-deep pain engulfed me, consuming every fiber of my being. I collapsed to the ground, helpless and trembling, as my bloodied leg twisted unnaturally beneath me.
I looked down at the shattered remnants of my left leg, my heart sinking into despair. Years of sacrifice, pride and unwavering faith—all of it crumbled in an instant. My dream of becoming a dancer was gone. Completely and irreparably shattered.
As I lay there, sobbing and broken, Zayn hung up the video call and knelt beside me. He pulled me into his arms, his touch tender yet hollow. “Xandra,” he murmured, his voice heavy with guilt, “don’t hate me. Melinda saved my mother’s life—I couldn’t just stand by and let something happen to her.”
He cupped my face, his expression torn, “Don’t worry,” he said softly. “I’ll take responsibility for you for the rest of your life.”
Hatred surged through me like wildfire. Without thinking, I slapped him across the face. Hard, “Responsibility? What will you take responsibility for?” I spat, my voice shaking with rage.
My parents died when I was just a child, leaving me to be raised by my grandmother. She and I had been each other’s whole world. To afford my dance lessons, she worked tirelessly—cleaning tables at a restaurant by day and scavenging cardboard and bottles at night.
I still remember that stormy night, years ago, when she was hit by a motorcycle while trying to retrieve a few bottles blown away by the wind. She came home drenched, blood dripping from her lips, yet she still smiled as if nothing had happened.
That night, I hugged her and sobbed, begging her to let me quit dancing. I couldn’t bear to see her suffer anymore.