The day I got my admission letter from Royal Ballet School was the same day Ulysses d'Amboise brought his fiancée Ginger Collentine home.

The email on my phone screen glowed faintly.

I stared at the bright red admission sign for what felt like forever, my eyes stinging until tears threatened to fall.

This was my dream school—one of the world’s most prestigious stages for ballet. But right then, it just felt like the universe was mocking me.

I called Aunt Petunia. On the other end of the line, her joyful voice rang out. “Darcey! Have you made up your mind?”

“Yeah. I’ve decided to go to London.”

I didn’t want to see that man who hurt me over and over again anymore.

I just wanted this exhausting, messed-up, 15-year age gap nightmare to end.

But I never thought there’d come a day when he’d stand in front of me again, kneeling, begging me to take him back.

——

Eight years ago… It was a rainy night when my biological dad—drunk behind the wheel—crashed his car. That accident that took him and my biological mom away from me forever.

I was only 10 years old. I was lost about the world back then. I was lucky the d'Amboises took me in, this orphan with no one else to rely on.

They gave me a complete home.

At that time, Ulysses was already 15 years older than me. From the moment I moved in, he treated me like his own little sister.

He helped me with my studies, practiced dance routines with me, and shielded me from every piece of gossip that came my way.

Under his care, I slowly crawled out of the dark hole my parents’ deaths left behind. I found the courage to live again.

Looking back now, maybe it was then that a dangerous little seed was planted in my heart.

By the time I realized it, it had already taken root, growing so deep it was impossible to pull out.

I was 15.

It was New Year’s Eve when I confessed to him for the first time.

I really thought that if I just said it out loud, I’d get the answer I wanted from the man who had been taking care of me for five years.

But all he did was ruffle my hair and say, “Silly girl. You’re too young to know what this feeling is.”

It felt like my world shattered.

I didn’t believe him—there was no way he didn’t love me!

After that, I started confessing to him every chance I got—every special holiday.

At first, he’d patiently try to talk me out of it. Then, he just stopped saying much of anything.

And eventually, he started avoiding me altogether. He worked late, coming home later and later.

Then he started showing up at events with different women on his arm.

Until three months ago, when he brought Ginger home.

“This is Ginger, my fiancée,” he said, calm and matter-of-fact, in the foyer.

I stood frozen on the staircase, staring at the woman. She was beautiful in her Chanel suit.

She had her arm looped through him, a perfect little smile on her face.

“You must be Darcey,” she said, her tone warm but formal. “Lee talks about you all the time.”

At that moment, it felt like someone had reached into my chest and crushed my heart in their fist.

The pain spread, filling my body like a poison until I thought my knees might give out.

But I still managed to smile. “Welcome to the family, Ginger.”

After that day, I started pulling back from him. I stopped waiting for him at dinner. Stopped hovering near his study. Even when we did cross paths, our exchanges were brief and distant.

Just like tonight.

I heard the sound of keys turning in the lock—he was home.

I was halfway up the stairs when his voice stopped me. “Darcey.”

I froze but didn’t turn around. “Yeah?”

“This weekend, Ginger and I are going villa hunting. You want to come along?”

My grip tightened on the staircase railing until my knuckles turned white. “No, I’ve got dance practice.”

“I see.” He paused. “Oh, by the way, Ginger and I have set a date—we’re getting married at the end of the year.”

Those words hit me like a hammer straight to the chest.

I forced back my tears, doing my best to keep my voice steady. “Congratulations to you both.”

The second those words left my mouth, I practically bolted upstairs, shutting myself in my room. The tears I’d been holding back finally spilled over, streaming silently down my face.

I grabbed my phone and stared at that admission letter once more.

Maybe this was the universe’s way of cutting me a break—a chance to leave with my dignity intact without having to watch their wedding play out in front of me.

Outside the window, the sunset had turned the sky a blood-red hue.

Kind of like the love I’d stubbornly held onto all these years—destined to fade away in the evening light.

It was time to leave.

I wiped my tears and started searching for plane tickets online.

The new semester would start at the end of August, but I decided to leave a month early. I would need time to settle in to get acquainted with my new life.

Just then, my phone buzzed. It was a message from my Aunt Petunia.

[Darcey, I’ll handle your passport and visa. You just focus on getting ready, okay? Let me know if you need help with anything.]

I felt my eyes sting again reading her words.

She’d tried, gently, to tell me before to let my feelings for Ulysses go. But I was too stubborn to listen.

Now, looking back, I realized she’d been right. Some paths just don’t lead anywhere.

Laughter floated up from downstairs—Ginger must’ve arrived. I turned up the music on my phone and started packing.

In the back of my closet, I found a pile of postcards and photos I’d stashed away over the years—all tied to Ulysses.

I looked through them one by one. Each photo felt like a tiny blade, slicing fresh wounds into my heart.

In the end, I packed them all into a box, sealing them away along with the naive feelings of my younger self.

This time, I was leaving for good. Taking my secret with me, along with my dream of becoming a professional ballerina, and a love I couldn’t hold onto. I’d go somewhere no one knew me and start fresh.

There, no one would know I was adopted by the d'Amboises. No one would know I’d fallen for someone I never should’ve loved.

I could finally chase my dreams without these feelings trapping me here.

As the night deepened, I stood by the window and watched Ulysses walk Ginger to her car.

They hugged in front of the car, exchanging kisses in the twilight.

I looked away and gently closed the curtains.

‘Goodbye, brother.’

‘Goodbye, my first love.’

Seven days before my flight—the same day Ginger moved in—I was in the practice room, rehearsing a new dance routine.

Through the floor-to-ceiling mirror, I saw her walk in, flanked by maids carrying two Louis Vuitton luggage.

Ulysses was right behind her, holding her makeup bag in one hand.

“Darcey, come help out,” he called to me.

I took off my headphones, wiping sweat from my forehead. “I still gotta practice—the competition’s coming up soon.”

Ginger slid her arm through his, smiling bright and charming.

“Lee, don’t distract your sister. I heard she’s competing in the Youth America Grand Prix. She can’t afford to lose focus.”

Her words sounded sweet enough, but they made my skin crawl

And just as I guessed, her tone shifted as she continued.

“Though honestly, Darcey, you’ve been practicing forever, and your moves still aren’t smooth. Maybe it’s time to find a better coach?”

I bit my lip and stayed quiet.

This routine was mine, a mix of contemporary and traditional dance. I’d spent months perfecting every step.

Ulysses patted her hand gently. “Alright, let’s go get your room set up.”

As I watched them walk away together, I took a deep breath and put my headphones back on.

The music started, and I lost myself in my own world. Ballet was my only refuge—the only place where I could momentarily forget all my troubles.

But that peace didn’t last long.

Ginger started redecorating the villa as if she were already the wife.

My favorite oil painting? Gone. She swapped it for some postmodern installation art she loved. She even installed security cameras in every corner of the villa.

The dining room got a fancy new set of bone china, but the home-cooked meals I grew up with? Those were history.

“You’ve all been eating way too carelessly these past few years,” she said, directing the chef. “From now on, you should be more particular. Darcey, you should learn to develop some taste.”

I stared at the exquisite but soulless dish in front of me and found myself missing Miss Merrill’s simple bowl of mac and cheese.

But Miss Merrill got fired. Ginger’s reason? “She wasn’t professional enough.”

And Ulysses turned a blind eye to all these changes.

He was getting busier, leaving early and coming home late. And when he was home, all his time was spent with Ginger.

“Lee, don’t you think this painting looks good here?”

“Sure.”

“Darling, will you come with me to pick curtains this weekend?”

“Of course.”

He never said no to her. It was like this villa had always been hers to run.

I started hiding out in the rehearsal room out of habit, hoping to escape her, but even there, I couldn’t.

One day, while I was rehearsing, she walked right in without warning. “Darcey, can I use this room for a bit? My friends want to see it.”

I glanced at the clock. The Youth America Grand Prix was just a day away. “I still need to practice…”

“It’ll only take a moment.” She’d already opened the door, letting in a group of women dressed to the nines.

I had no choice but to pack up and leave. As I passed by, I overheard one of them whisper, “So, this is the adopted daughter? She’s pretty, isn’t she?”

“She is,” Ginger replied, her tone smug. “I heard she used to cling to Lee all the time. But it’s fine now—I’m here to keep an eye on things.”

I froze for half a second, then kept walking, saying nothing.

Back in my room, I turned on my laptop to review my rehearsal videos, looking for areas to improve. But as soon as I opened Facebook, I saw a dance video going viral.

Curious, I clicked on it—and my heart dropped.

It was my rehearsal from two weeks ago. But someone else had slapped their watermark on it.

The comments were filled with praise for the creativity of the choreography, but no one mentioned my name.

I immediately looked up the account that posted it. It belonged to one of the competitors in tomorrow’s competition.

My stomach sank. Plagiarism like this wasn’t new in the dance industry, but I never thought it would happen to me.

As I was preparing to gather evidence to defend my rights, there was a knock at the door.

“Darcey, come out for dinner,” Ulysses called.

I wiped my eyes. “I’m not hungry.”

There was a pause. “Don’t stay holed up in your room all the time.”

“I’m fine. You mans eat without me.”

Another moment of silence passed. Then, his footsteps finally faded away.

I stared at my laptop screen, debating whether to tell him about this. In the past, I would go to him right away whenever I ran into trouble.

But now? I didn’t even know how I should speak to him.

As his sister? I certainly had crossed that line long ago.

As his friend? We’d grown so distant that even casual conversations felt strained.

Just then, my phone buzzed with a text from an unknown number.

[Want that video taken down? Then drop out of the competition.]

I stared at the message for a long time until I laughed.