“It’s not selfish,” Hildy said. “It’s human. You’re discovering what Julianna discovered—that there’s more to life than just one thing.”
“Why couldn’t I see that then?”
Hildy shrugged. “You’re seeing it now.”
Charlotte sighed. “But if she’d stayed—if I’d been the one to walk away—she’d still be alive today.”
“Don’t do that,” Hildy said. “Julianna loved her life. She loved her family and her dance studio. She loved teaching, and she loved Harbor Pointe.”
Charlotte knew it was true. Julianna’s letters had said so.
“And you loved ballet.”
“I loved applause,” Charlotte said. “I loved being the best.”
“And now?”
Charlotte shrugged. The only thing she could think of was Cole. She loved Cole. He’d proven to her that there was so much more to life than being the best. He’d proven that there was more to strive for than the approval of everyone else. But would he also prove that what he said was true—that love was unconditional? Would he still feel the same once he knew what Hildy knew?
“You seem to be searching for something, Charlotte,” Hildy said. “What is it?”
Charlotte couldn’t have put it into words if she tried. She didn’t know. She just knew that the day Julianna died, the day they laid her to rest, something inside her shifted. Suddenly, everything she’d been working for seemed meaningless.
But if she hadn’t been born to dance, then why had she been born? She was trying to find out.
“Can I tell you what I think?” Hildy asked, as if Charlotte could’ve stopped her. “I think you’re looking for forgiveness.”
The knot at the back of Charlotte’s throat loosened.
“You’re trying to earn forgiveness the same way you’re trying to earn love.”
Charlotte dared a glance at the older, wiser woman. “I think you’re right.” Her voice cracked as she spoke. “This is all new to me.”
“What if I told you that you’ve got nothing to prove?” Hildy reached over and took her hand. “Love and forgiveness aren’t earned. They’re freely given. Like a gift. God created you—not only to be a dancer, but to be His child. He loves you for who you are. No strings attached.”
Like Cole.
The words came to her without warning.
Gifts Charlotte received usually came with conditions. They were usually a result of her performing well or getting a good review or going to a fundraiser and schmoozing the right people.
But that was true about nothing Cole had given her. He expected nothing in return. He’d painted her a picture of a love like she’d never known.
He didn’t care if she ever danced professionally again—to him, she was just Charlotte. And that was enough.
“I don’t deserve it,” she said aloud, though she hadn’t intended to.
“That’s the point,” Hildy said. “None of us do.”
Maybe she’d been led here so she could learn this exact thing. Maybe it wasn’t Julianna’s family or her dance studio or even her passion that Charlotte envied most. Maybe what she really wanted, what Julianna had always possessed, was a deep understanding that she was worthy—and she always had been—of love.
The realization settled inside her like a warm and welcome friend.
She was loved.
Maybe now she could finally forgive herself. Maybe she could stop striving, stop trying to prove herself worthy. Maybe she could rest in the fact that God had already accepted her the way she was, whether or not she ever stepped foot on a stage again.
She’d been so convinced that she’d destroyed Julianna’s life, when clearly her friend had gone on to do beautiful and important things right here in Harbor Pointe.
For Jules, bigger wasn’t best. Some people didn’t need an audience to make a difference.
And Charlotte wanted to be one of those people.
Hildy stood. “I’ll leave you. Stay as long as you want. And have faith in Cole, enough to be honest with him.”
Charlotte nodded. “Thanks, Hildy.”
Once she was alone, Charlotte inhaled the warm summer air, thinking how fortunate she was to be here in this moment. Her life had grown infinitely richer because of Julianna’s fingerprint on it, and she wanted to honor her friend by living free of the burdens that had always held her down.
It was time to let go of the past. She’d come here, she realized now, to make peace with Julianna, when what she really needed was to make peace with herself.
She gazed at the waterfall and prayed. It was clunky and stilted, but it was honest. She asked God to forgive her for the mistakes she’d made and to give her courage to tell the truth. Even if it meant losing the one person she loved most.
It wouldn’t be easy, and she knew it. But the idea of having nothing to prove left her feeling lighter and freer than a balloon being carried away on the wind.
There was just one more thing she needed to do to be completely rid of her shame—and while it would be hard, she owed it to Cole to be honest. The recital was tomorrow, and she didn’t want to do anything to ruin it. Immediately afterward, she’d tell him everything.
She only prayed he would find it in his heart to forgive her.
45
Saturday morning, the day of the recital, Cole woke up nervous. Not only because he had to go on stage that night, but also because it had been hours since Charlotte walked out of rehearsal and the only word he’d gotten from her was a text late last night that said:
Hey, I’ll be tied up with last-minute details all day tomorrow, but I’ll see you at the theatre later.
He was worried about her.
That worry, mixed with his nervous energy, turned Cole into a giant mess—and he had a whole day on his own.
A knock on the front door pulled his attention.
Maybe Charlotte had some time for him after all. He pulled the door open, and it was Gemma—not Charlotte—who stood there.
“Hey,” she said.
“Hey.”
“You look good,” she said. “You always look great fresh out of the shower.”
He didn’t respond.
“Look, I came to thank you for what you said the night of the fair. You didn’t have to be nice to me, but you were, and I appreciate it. A lot.”
“’Course,” he said.
She clung to the bag hanging off her shoulder, as if she needed it to stand upright. “I wanted to also tell you that I took your advice.”
He frowned. “About what?”
“About Max. I ended it. For real this time.”
Cole didn’t respond.
“I know what I did to you was wrong, and I hope you meant it when you said you forgave me. I’m going to try to spend some time alone for a while. Get myself right. Maybe we could even be friends again someday.”
“That’d be good,” he said, shocked to discover that his animosity toward her had melted away. It wasn’t an act. He’d forgiven her. Out of her own brokenness, she’d hurt him, but he’d finally gotten to the place where he could put it behind him.