The shadowy night falls upon Aries House.

The grand room, decorated by the Morten family like a ceremonial hall, is where we will hold a ball to celebrate this important day. The participants are all close relatives of both sides, and some of the weaker members of this upper-class society. I recognize a few faces. Mr. Harrington, whom I spoke to with a few words for Thena, in his expensive suit and salt-and-pepper hair, greets me. The Governor Dario Mourice and his wife also come to offer me their kind wishes. And behold, a middle-aged woman with curly golden hair and a pink satin dress, strides elegantly with a cigarette in her mouth. She approaches me and greets me:

"So... this is the Southern rose. Taylor McLorean."

"Madam McLorean," I smile and greet her.

"Taylor, call me Taylor. The title of Madam is just a meaningless thing that men use to flatter us," she says. "When the door is closed, we are all the same."

I am quite surprised by Taylor McLorean's natural and familiar demeanour. I am a little confused by her words, not knowing whether they are true or a joke. Perhaps Taylor also senses my awkwardness and speaks first:

"The Irish girl, Chapter 8."

"What is that?" I am even more amazed.

"It seems that the bride has not yet read my latest work," she laughs. "It's understandable, my works are quite selective of readers."

"But I know someone who admires you very much, Taylor," I quickly seize this opportunity to help Thena. I know she will jump for joy. I wave to Thena, who is holding a glass of wine in a corner of the room. Although she hesitates at first, she eventually agrees to come over. "May I introduce you to my younger sister, Thena Lamstrong?"

Thena does not have many opportunities to go all the way to bustling London, the only way for her to get close to her is through pictures in newspapers. Thus, she only sees a wealthy woman standing in front of her. It is not until I introduce Thena to Taylor that she bursts with joy. I let the two of them talk because it is the least I can do. Mom and Diana have asked to come home early to recuperate. Her cough is still not gone, and I have no reason to keep her here with me on this noisy night. As I retreat into a corner with a glass of wine in hand, I see David chatting with Lady Daphne. I feel happy that he finally has someone to share with. The relationship between Kevin and Thena is also better, if what I hear is correct. Kevin is here today. I no longer see the brashness in him from before. I have no right to speak or think about this, but I truly hope the two can be together.

My husband is completely immersed in political discussions with his friends, and I become a stranger in a room full of "politicians." I shrink into a dark corner, looking at the crowded room and waiting for the music to start. I just want the dancing to quickly end so I do not have to endure this overwhelming experience anymore. Andermis comes to me like a gust of wind. He walks over with a glass of wine and silently drinks. I look at him, then speak up:

"Don't you wear a moustache anymore?"

"I don't think it's beautiful anymore, so I stopped," he replies briefly.

Suddenly, I do not know what else to say. Conversations among people like us always end in embarrassment and discomfort. Greetings, forced smiles, and jokes about London's weather have become a familiar trait. Andermis reaches out to wipe the wine off my face, full of tenderness and gentleness.

I stifle my breath and look towards the crowd. This red dress is no different from a machine with iron chains tightly squeezing my body. The orchestra is now making moves. The Philadelphia-based violinists and cellists are specially used to create "modern" and "mischievous" melodies for the artistic and aristocratic London night. I also heard that the music will have the sound of Spanish Tango, and tonight I decided to dance my heart out. This will be my last Tango!

The crowd starts to move into position, and my respectable husband is waving his hand right in the middle of the dance floor. Andermis escorts me there. Before handing me over to my husband, Andermis whispered in my ear and said:

"Tonight will be a long night for you..."

I wish Andermis would tell me more clearly instead of being so vague, it will only make my mind more confused. My hand is nestled in Augustin's hand, and the music starts playing before I can even sort out my thoughts. The gentle sound comes up, we are one beat late, but we quickly catch up. Augustin guides my hand to his shoulder, and at the same time, his hand is placed behind my back, and both our feet begin to step in rhythm. This is not a dance, it is just the movement of two soulless bodies. I am not a bad dancer, but my feet do not feel like moving. Couples are dancing around us, gently supporting the golden couple of the performance night. This is not the dance I wanted. This is not the Tango I have been waiting for.

"Do you feel happy?"

"Yes, my dear husband...", I reply. Anyone with enough delicacy can see the regret on my face.

"I know you're not comfortable...", Augustin whispers as he turns me around.

"About what?", I'm surprised. His arm pulls me close to him.

"That I've tried everything to marry you."

Augustin raises his arm straight, I lean back and bounce back. We continue to take small steps and turn. I just smile slightly without saying anything. Augustin continues:

"But that's how I show my love. I'll never give up on you."

"... Yes, my love."

I do not know what else to say. The music still echoes in rhythm. The melody is cheerful, but why do I hear sadness and dullness? My muscles do not even feel like dancing anymore. I leave everything to Augustin to coordinate. He goes West, I'll go West. He chooses South, I will not object.

Augustin was never a skilled dancer. He keeps stepping on my feet, but I don't feel like saying anything. We still try to follow the first beat of the dance. As the music gradually comes to an end, Augustin looks at me and smiles lightly, saying:

"Dancing is not my strength..."

"You tried!", I console him. I intended to say that I am the same, but Augustin saw me dance at the ball, and he certainly wouldn't believe that.

"If you want, in the second part, you can dance with other guests too."

Augustin has just made a very tempting proposal to me. I was initially inclined to accept it, but then an inner force made me hesitate. I look around the room at everyone chatting with each other, as well as pairing up for the second dance. The desire to let loose one last time in me suddenly fades when I cannot find another heart to synchronise with. David has paired up with Lady Daphne, Thena and Mr. Harrington with another couple, and countless others have found their dance partners. I only have one option left, Andermis, but I do not want to join hands with him. There is an invisible affection between us that I do not know how to describe. I hold my breath, then slowly exhale with disappointment. I smile at Augustin who is waiting. If there is no suitable dance partner, even if I have to change dozens or hundreds of men, my feet will never move to the beat.

This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.

As my lips prepare to decline and ask him to return to the drawing room, a familiar voice behind me makes all my senses go wild. I know this voice, even if I die, I cannot forget it.

"May I have the honour of dancing with the bride?"

The entire room suddenly falls silent. The band also stops because of the sudden appearance of a stranger. Enzo is standing in front of me unexpectedly. He is wearing a cream white suit, and his appearance now looks bright and extremely gentlemanly. I have not seen him in two months, and Enzo has shed his old self. Although I still recognise him, I feel extremely surprised. Part of me feels jealous of him. I have never stopped missing this man, but I do not want him to appear again. Why does every time I think I am settled to face the hell I created, the doors of heaven open in front of me?

He and I lock eyes, the entire room filled with an awkward atmosphere. My eyes are brimming with tears, but why does he only give me an emotionless look? He does not blame, resent, or show any intense emotions. The person standing before me is just like a figure wearing Enzo's appearance, but the man inside has disappeared!

I try to suppress my emotions. The room is silent, and the sound of my pounding heart seems to be the dominant voice. I could even dance to the beat of my heart if I had to. I slowly release myself from Augustin's embrace and walk towards him. I forgot to say a word to Augustin, but I cannot delay a moment longer. In my dreamy state, I am afraid that I will lose him again. The label of "married woman" pulls me away from hugging and kissing him deeply, but I cannot hide the passion I have for him. Like other women when they are paired, I kneel and greet him, placing my hand on his shoulder, and he holds my hand tightly. I want to say something to him, but my lips are stuck as if glued. I turn to look at Augustin standing behind me. I think he will be angry or something, but my husband just smiles lightly and steps back. I look at the band and request a fast-paced tango. I will dance until my legs give out, or even if I have to die from exhaustion, I will still dance.

The music starts, a melody tinted with jealousy and hatred. We move apart, creating a large distance between us. We walk in opposite directions as the music plays, both of our gazes filled with regret. I remove my gloves and approach him once again. Our hands intertwine, and suddenly he tightens his grip, creating a pivot point for me to spin around like a top. Enzo does not wait for me to say anything. He seizes me in his arms, then pushes me away. The music still follows a fast-paced rhythm, as if the dance floor were a race track for all emotions. Like a story on stage, I run away from reality, and Enzo pulls me back to him with all the force of jealousy and resentment. The betrayal I have given him is too great for him to be gentle with me once again. We chase each other around my husband’s home. Every time he pulls me back into his arms, my heart beats faster and my breath becomes shallow. Our lips are only inches apart, but I cannot get any closer. I want to kiss him. I want to bite him. I want to drown in him. But when I am about to reach the pinnacle of it all, he pushes me away, as a way of getting revenge for what I've done.

"Enzo...Please..."

"Why do you even bother calling my name?" His heart has turned to ice, deadened by me.

"I'm sorry...Enzo...I'm sorry for hurting you..." I weep tears. I only beg him for forgiveness, even just a little.

Enzo spins me around in a circle, then pushes me away. In a flash, he catches my hand and leans back, stretching out his legs, showing off his fair skin. He pulls me back into his arms. I have killed the Enzo of the past! The person in front of me is no longer him, but only an Enzo full of hatred.

"I will never forgive you!"

The sound of the violin reaches up to the sky, spreading pain and anguish that pierce through my shattered heart. Couples gracefully waltz around us like tiny satellites. The main stage is ours. Struggle, animosity, betrayal, and fervent pleas. I am increasingly enamoured with this vengeful man. My heart cannot contain its cries. I love him, love him ardently.

"Nevertheless, I still love you, Enzo."

"A woman like you has no right to profess love to anyone, Fiona," Enzo looks at me disdainfully. This is the emotion I want to see. Only then am I certain he still feels something for me. "Don't give anyone hope, Fiona!"

I become more brazen. I repeatedly loosen my grip, forcing Enzo to take hold of me. When he pulls me close, I place my hand on his chest. It is still warm, just like the days when he would hold me close. I place my hand on his cheek, our noses touching, and then I stop. I release my hold, spin around quickly, and unbutton a few of Enzo's shirt buttons. He closes his eyes, shaking his head as if trying to rid himself of those images. He is the frame, and I am the painting. All of his actions and gestures are just means for a woman like me to shine.

Our foreheads touch, and I almost kiss him. Enzo looks at me with a pained expression. He grips my chin tightly. In a reproachful tone, he pushes me towards another man on the dance floor, saying in agony:

"Why can't I stop loving a harsh woman like you?"

Enzo stands there watching as I fall into the embrace of a nearby man. The music becomes harsh and pounding. With just a few steps, I am pushed into the arms of another man. I am like a cheap plaything for all the men in London. I desperately search for him in the crowd, but all I receive is a cold glance from him.

Their hands are on my hands, then on my chest. Their breath wraps around my body. The smell of tobacco, cigars, and their lovers' perfumes. I have to dance like a courtesan with all the tricks under my red lace. I release their hands and run straight to Enzo. He just stands there, but why can I not touch him? The distance between me and him is just a blink of an eye, but why does it seem like I have been running for miles and still cannot reach him? My hand reaches out to him, hoping that he will take it. But he remains the same, just looking at me with a heavy gaze. I am then caught by another man when I am about to go back to him. The music still rushes like a debt collector for love. I look at him and he gets further and further away from me, but I cannot break away from this dance.

Spin. Lean. Embrace.

Spin. Lean back. Hand in hand.

My heart suddenly screams with each beat as Enzo slowly walks away. He leaves me once again. I abandon my dance, leaving everything behind to chase after him. Please, God, don't let him go! Please, let me hold him once again! I have known the mistakes of my life! I will give up everything and go with him to a faraway place! I do not need anything else! Please, let me be with him! One more time…

Everything is like a haunting nightmare. The more I run towards him, the more the men at the evening ball become crazed in pulling me back. Layers of my dress are being ripped off by them one by one. But I care no more, I just want to be closer to him. I reach out towards him, they pull harder. The room becomes a theatre and we are performers. The judgmental eyes are focused on me. My clothes are gradually becoming thinner. The distance between me and him is getting closer. A smile blooms on my lips. Just a little bit more! They have started to peel off my corset. Hundreds of men are waiting to tear apart this woman's last piece of cloth. Those who are far away just watch with bullet-like eyes ready to pierce through this worn-out body. I strain my body with all my might. My arm veins stretch like an elastic cord, and if I try too hard, my arms may break apart. But I will ignore everything just to be with him.

The music never seems to stop. On the contrary, it becomes stronger and more vengeful. A fire springs up from nowhere, right below the floor, immediately surrounding us. It's only me and Enzo, with demonic arms pulling me back. I have to fight for him! I have to fight for my own happiness! But why do I start feeling scared? I have only one last layer of cloth on me. I am close to touching him, but it also means that my body will be completely exposed. The tearing sound echoes hauntingly in my ears. Tears stream down my face. I almost make it, but end up failing. Immediately, I am pulled back, and I fall down, still holding the last piece of cloth, but also meaning that I have lost him forever.

As reality strikes once again at the door, I fall onto the floor as I try to spin around. There is no arm to hold onto me, no fire scorching on the floor, and my body is still clothed in every layer, all of it just an illusion I am seeing. I look at Enzo with an indignant gaze, a tear rolling down my cheek. The music stops because of it. Augustin quickly rushes to me and holds me close to his chest. He looks at me with care as if I had just experienced an earthquake inside. Augustin wipes the tear from my eye corner, and anxiously asks:

"How are you?"

"I'm fine...," I shake my head lightly in response. "Can you take me to the room?"

"What's wrong with you?"

"Probably just lack of sleep...," I blurt out. "I'm just a little dizzy..."

As I speak, I check Enzo's attitude, but he does not seem to care at all. He even turns and leaves the room before everyone's shocked eyes. Augustin, too worried about me, forgets to question him, and that makes me appreciate my husband even more. Augustin gently carries me up the stairs, heading to our room. My heart feels like it's dying again when I see him leaving. Why do I not feel relieved when he shows no signs of hatred towards me? Why does he not blame, scold, or even curse me? Have I become a woman who does not exist in his life anymore? If we were each other's pain, please God, take my life away right now. Let me die instead of enduring it!

Augustin escorts me to the room, unaware that I am still glueing my eyes to him. Along the way, I hope he will turn around and look at me. But all I get is his gradually disappearing back. The door opens and closes, Enzo has vanished from my life for the last time, and a premonition tells me that this is the last time we will ever meet.

I close my eyes, tears falling wet on Augustin's shoulder and the red carpet beneath my feet. The festivities downstairs must continue, but within me, everything has withered away. That dance will be my final dance. My heart has died today, and I will not dance with any man again until my last breath...