Chapter 6: Dancing

Alexia and Myra finished their exquisite dinner. Across the room was a door adjoined to the Aurora Night Club next door.

"Talk about convenience," said Myra.

"Yes, this side entrance leads straight into Aurora Noir Club," said Alexia.

"Don't you have to have a membership?"

"Yes, and I have a lifetime that Elliott gave me five years ago. We came here often. Had a lot of great times here."

"What I like is the dance floor is on the bottom floor and on the second floor there are sitting areas and a balcony with sitting areas. You'll see. Get ready to be impressed."

"Lead on."

They walked up to the doorman at the entrance, and Alexia presented her membership card. He granted them entrance.

As they walked into the club, Alexia glanced at Myra to see her reaction.

"This is… is…"

"You can close your mouth now."

Inside, the dance floor shimmered under chandeliers, the beat pulling bodies into motion. Myra was already grinning, her emerald dress catching the light as she swayed her hips toward the bar. Alexia followed more cautiously, her crimson top drawing its own share of attention.

"Two glasses of red," Myra said over her shoulder, motioning to the bartender. She leaned in toward Alexia, her voice barely audible over the music. "We'll need this before we hit the floor."

Alexia chuckled, taking the glass Myra handed her. "You always know how to set the tone."

"That's why you love me," Myra teased, tipping her glass with a wink.

As the first sip warmed her throat, Alexia scanned the room. The music, lights, and the people created a lively, uplifting atmosphere, bringing it to life. 

She noticed men's eyes lingering just a beat too long as they passed over her and Myra as they slowly crossed the room to the other side. It was nothing new, but tonight, she felt more exposed, as though someone in the crowd was watching too closely.

Her suspicion proved right. From across the room, near the bar, Elliot's gaze caught hers. Edward stood beside him, laughing at something Elliot hadn't heard. His focus was singular, tracing the curve of Alexia's movements as she shifted beside Myra.

"You're staring," Edward said, his tone teasing but measured. "Not subtle."

"Wasn't trying to be," Elliot replied flatly, lifting his drink.

Edward glanced at the dance floor, where Myra had already stepped forward, her hand extended toward Alexia. "And I'm not wasting this opportunity."

He moved before Elliot could respond, cutting through the crowd with an ease that made heads turn. Myra noticed him instantly, her grin widening.

"Myra Nichols," he said smoothly, bowing slightly in mock formality. "May I have this dance?"

"Edward Aleman," said Myra with a slight laugh. "Well, how can I say no to that?"

Alexia watched as they disappeared into the throng of dancers, their chemistry clear even from a distance. Myra's emerald dress spiraled under the club's shifting lights, and Edward's confident movements matched her rhythm effortlessly.

Left alone at the edge of the floor, Alexia swirled her glass absently, the music dulling her thoughts until a familiar voice cut through.

"Care for a dance?" Elliot stood in front of her, his presence magnetic and unrelenting. Something unreadable passed over his face—an attempt at vulnerability, perhaps.

Alexia's first instinct was to refuse. But her hesitation betrayed her, and she found herself setting her glass down. "One."

Elliot extended his hand, and she took it reluctantly. The warmth of his touch startled her, but she didn't pull away. The music shifted to something slower, more intimate, and the room seemed to fade as they moved to the floor.

"When did you start dancing? You rarely did before."

"I don't, usually," he admitted, his voice low. "But I'd make exceptions for you."

"Don't read too much into this."

"Noted," he replied, his grip light, respectful.

They swayed in tense silence, the words between them unspoken but deafening. Alexia's green eyes met his briefly before darting away. Whatever he was looking for, she wasn't ready to give.

As the song neared its end, Alexia stepped back, her voice steady but clipped. "That's enough."

Elliot nodded, releasing her hand. "Thank you," he whispered, his sincerity disarming.

She turned away, retreating to the bar where her drink waited. Elliot watched her leave, the distance between them feeling heavier than before.

Myra and Edward were still lost in their own world on the dance floor, laughter spilling between them. Alexia took a long sip of her wine, the weight of Elliot's presence still lingering in her chest.

At the Aurora Club, the music began to fade as the crowd thinned. Myra and Edward stood near the exit, their voices rising just enough to be heard over the muffled bass of the club.

"Do you want to call it a night, or..." Edward's voice trailed off, his eyes warm as he looked at her.

"Not yet," Myra replied, her emerald dress shimmering in the dim light. "This has been fun, and honestly, I'd rather keep it going."

"I know a place—quiet, upscale, and perfect for talking. Or we could grab a drink at an after-hours lounge nearby."

"Sounds perfect," Myra said, glancing toward Alexia. "Let me check with her first."

Myra approached Alexia at the bar, breaking her train of thought.

"Hey, I'm leaving with Edward."

Alexia looked up, her gaze briefly meeting Edward's before returning to her friend. "Are you sure?"

"Yeah," Myra said with a reassuring grin. "He's a good guy, you know that. I'll text you when I get there, promise."

Alexia hesitated, then smiled faintly. "Alright. Be safe, Myra."

"I will." Myra hugged her quickly before turning back to Edward, who waited patiently by the door.

"Shall we?" asked Edward, extending his arm.

"We shall," Myra replied, laughing lightly as they stepped out into the warm night air, leaving Alexia to watch the door close behind them.

The night was quieter now as Alexia stepped out of the club and onto the patio. The warm air carried faint laughter and music from inside. She wasn't sure why she had come out, maybe just to breathe, to think.

"Can we talk?"

Alexia turned to face him. He seemed different, as if he knew one wrong move could send her walking away.

"I don't see what's left to say."

"There's plenty," said Elliot, taking a step closer but stopping, giving her space. "But I know you don't want to hear all of it right now."

"Then why bother?"

"Because I care," Elliot replied. His tone was calm, but sincere.

Alexia hesitated, her resolve faltering for just a moment. "Caring doesn't fix anything."

"It doesn't," he admitted. "But it's a start. Look, I've made mistakes—too many to count. But I'm not here to control you, Alexia. I just want to be... part of your life."

Her gaze softened slightly. "That's easy to say now."

"I know it is… and… I don't expect you to believe me right away. But I'm not giving up on this. On us."

Alexia let out a quiet breath. "You think there's still an 'us'?"

"There could be," he said, neither speaking for what felt like an eternity.

Finally, Alexia shook her head, a faint, unreadable smile tugging at the corner of her lips.

"You don't make this easy, do you?"

"I've never been good at easy," Elliot replied with a faint smile of his own.

Alexia took a step back toward the door. "Goodnight, Elliot."

"Goodnight, Alexia," he said, leaving something unspoken.

As she disappeared into the club, Elliot stood there alone. He'd made progress—a small crack in the wall she'd built around herself. But he knew this was just the beginning.