Christmas in New York had always been a special time, not that Ophelia had ever gotten to actually go out and experience it, what with how busy the season always was. She figured that, over the years, she’d learned every female role in the Nutcracker, but still she was always happy to perform it for the children. It was magical, getting to introduce them to dance in that special time of year.

But this year, nearly two years after meeting Salim, the role she took on for the holidays was truly a new one, and the most exciting one she’d yet accepted. It was the role of bride.

The wedding went off without a hitch. There were the usual wedding concerns—the blending of families, and who would and wouldn’t get along with whom. But nothing above or beyond the usual.

Salim’s family had been a mixed bag. Some of his siblings that she had met over the years she greatly liked, and some, she was less sold on. His parents were…well, they were what she expected from what Salim had told her about them. They were royals, and Ophelia reminded herself that that role carried a great deal more pressure that she’d ever been exposed to.

And besides, she was getting Salim. That was what mattered.

As for her family, they loved Salim almost as much as she did. The couple had spent enough time in the States in the lead-up to the wedding that her family had met him several times, so there were no surprises there. The only slight hiccup was near the beginning, when Ophelia’s mother kept questioning in a not-so-subtle way if this man was going to be a distraction to Ophelia’s career, and might derail all of the careful planning that she’d put into it.

But, as she began to see that the effect of Salim and Ophelia’s relationship on her career was very much a positive one, her reservations faded. And he was welcomed to the family in a way that Ophelia was delighted to see brought him joy.

They held the ceremony and the reception in the home theater of the Williamsburg Ballet. It wasn’t the most traditional of venues, but to Ophelia and Salim, it felt right. It was decorated to the nines, with vines of flowers cascading from the ceiling and tiny, sparkling lights shining in the darkness of the room all around them.

It was the most dramatic wedding Ophelia had ever been to, but that, in and of itself, seemed appropriate. For all the joy that her relationship had brought her—and, she felt certain, would continue to bring her—she could hardly deny that it had gotten off to a dramatic start.

One of the most stressful questions about the wedding had been whether or not to invite Nikolai. Salim had stressed, over and over, that they didn’t have to, but Ophelia had insisted. As much as he had hurt them, and as much as their early interactions had left a bad taste in Ophelia’s mouth regarding him, even she had to admit that over the last two years, he had changed.

They hadn’t had much contact—not because Ophelia was still angry at him, but because Salim was. However, from the information they’d gotten from mutual friends, it sounded like he had begun making some very different choices in his life. His ballet company, as well, was starting to make waves in a way it hadn’t in decades.

Besides, Ophelia had told Salim, Nikolai was one of his oldest friends. And she was taking on his whole life—his past, his present, and his future. Nikolai was a part of that, and he should be there. In the end, it was fine. Nikolai was on his best behavior, and all the unpleasantness was long enough ago that Ophelia found she didn’t mind him being there at all.

Besides, Nikolai wasn’t the only old school friend that was invited to the wedding, and not the only one that showed, either. Salim attempted to keep Ophelia up to date with putting names to faces and explaining who was who, but she was still taken by surprise at the reception when a beautiful woman came and took her by the arm, leading her away from everyone.

“So, it’s you then, isn’t it? she said. She felt like she was much older, but she must have only been Salim’s age. She was Spanish, and it felt to Ophelia that she was laying her accent on a bit thick for dramatic effect.

“It’s…me?” Ophelia asked, surprised.

The woman smiled.

“I mean that you’re the one that’s different. You were the one that was something new. When I saw Salim and Nikolai in Spain two years ago and they were all—how do you say it?—bent out of shape over something. It was you, wasn’t it?”

Ophelia felt her brows furrow.

“You’re Calista, aren’t you?”

The woman smiled.

“I am. So, he told you, then?”

“Who you are? He’s talked about you, yes.”

“No.” Calista shook her head. “I mean, he told you what he was all twisted into knots trying not to tell you.”

So far removed from the pain of it, so long ago, Ophelia found herself smiling at the memory. It had felt world-shattering at the time, but looking back, it seemed inevitable that they would get through it. They hadn’t known each other well, then. They hadn’t known the strength of their own feelings or what they would become.

Looking back, Ophelia did what she never could have imagined herself doing two years ago. She laughed.

“No, he didn’t tell me. Nikolai did.”

Calista smiled.

“Ah, of course he did. But you forgave him?”

“Nikolai?”

“No. Your husband.”

Ophelia looked at her with every ounce of the confusion she felt.

“Salim? Yes, I love him.”

Calista waved her hand.

“Yes, yes, you love him. And you forgave him?”

Ophelia offered her a gracious smile.

“Yes, I forgave him.”

Calista put her hand on Ophelia’s arm.

“Good. If you can do that, then your marriage will be better than any of my marriages; I can tell you that. Take care of Salimito. You do that, and he will take care of you. And if he doesn’t, you tell me.”

“I intend to,” Ophelia said. And then, after she realized how it sounded, “I mean, take care of him. Not tell you…”

But Calista was already gone.

At the reception, Ophelia listened to speech after speech from their closest friends and family. She was especially surprised and delighted when Tomas stood up to speak.

She almost didn’t recognize him. He’d grown out his hair a bit, and put on a little weight, sure, but it was more than that. Ophelia realized now how tired he must have been, now that she saw him so full of life and energy. Last she’d heard from him, he was living upstate. She was happy it suited him so well.

“Everyone, everyone, gather ’round!” Tomas began, with giggles from the dancers present who recognized his words and the way he said them. “Many of you know me, but for those that don’t, I’m the lucky, lucky man who got to see the beginning of Ophelia’s career. She’s told me before that she’s grateful to me for discovering her, but I don’t think that’s anything like the truth. She wandered in, bursting with raw talent, and it was all I could do to keep up with her!”

There was laughter at that, and Ophelia felt her face flush, but not in an unpleasant way.

“I could talk about Ophelia all day, and what a joy it was to watch her grow as a dancer in those early years in New York. But we don’t have all day. So, instead, I’m going to talk about Salim.

“Before they were engaged, I had met Salim exactly one time. And in the space of that one conversation, he convinced me to hand over control of the one thing in the world that I had poured my professional heart into for the last thirty years.

“I had been meaning to go, and wanting to find a new life, but I hadn’t found anyone that I believed would be able to really nurture what I had built. It wasn’t for lack of trying. I’d been in talks with the best people I could find. But I couldn’t find anyone who convinced me that it was safe to step away.

“I wish I could tell you the one sentence that won me over and convinced me that this man, who had just come in—and for all I could tell, hadn’t seen a ballet before in his life—was the one to take over. But it wasn’t a word, or a sentence. It was his passion. He came in out of the cold, and he was full of dance. He was full of love. He just didn’t know either of those things yet.”

There was a smattering of laughter from the crowd, from those who knew the more in-depth story of how they had met. There were some confused looks from others, but Tomas continued on before those looks turned to questions.

“And it didn’t hurt either when he looked me in the eyes and said, ‘don’t worry, I’ll take care of her.’ He corrected himself, and said he meant the company, but I heard what he said, and I heard what he meant, and I am prouder than ever that he is keeping his promise. To Salim and Ophelia!”

“To Salim and Ophelia!” the crowd cheered.

When the speeches were over, Ophelia felt Salim’s hand on her arm.

“Are you all right?” he asked her, just loudly enough for her to hear.

She smiled through the tears in her eyes.

“I am. So much happier than I have the words to tell you. I can’t imagine anything making this day any better.”

He grinned, and it was a grin that Ophelia knew well. It was a grin that always meant he was about to surprise her.

“That feels like a failure of imagination. Just wait right here.”

With that, he stood, and strode towards the piano.

“Attention, everyone,” he said into the mic. As the room quieted down again to hear him, Ophelia’s heart skipped a beat.

“I know we’ve just had all of these wonderful speeches, and I want to let you all know how happy I am that each and every one of you—and yes, I mean every one of you—” he winked in Nikolai’s general direction, “could make it. Today is a very special day for Ophelia and me, and it will be the first in a lifetime of special days between us.”

As he spoke, he began playing with the keys, fiddling with melodies and weaving them together.

“But every time I sit down at the piano, I’m reminded of another special day in our relationship. It was a day that showed me both how generous and caring she is, and also how brave and fearless in pursuing what she wants. It wasn’t long after we met, and I had told Ophelia that I had tried and failed to learn piano, many years ago. And without a moment’s hesitation, she taught me.”

His tinkering with the notes before him began to evolve and intensify, until clear, consistent melodies made themselves known.

“So Ophelia, love of my life, this is for you.”

He turned his head away from the mic, and began to focus on the keys. And, as he did, Ophelia was blown away.

Their weekly piano lessons had been something that Ophelia had treasured for the first year of their relationship. Salim had been a quick study, and had seemed to want to learn as much as possible, as though he needed to impress her. It wasn’t long before he outpaced her as a student, and there wasn’t much more that she could teach him.

She’d known that he had found another teacher, and had continued practicing, but she had always found it a little odd that he never played in front of her anymore. Now, listening to him play, she understood why. It was a gift to her. A brilliant surprise, nearly two years in the making.

His focus when playing had always been deeply attractive to her, but now, it was matched by his skill. He was an artist with the keys in a way that Ophelia had wanted to be many years ago, before dancing had pulled away her interest.

By the time the piece was finished, everyone in the room was on their feet applauding, and the tears of joy that had been in Ophelia’s eyes before were spilling down her cheeks. The band was already playing, picking up the strings of the melodies from Salim’s piano piece, and pulling them into a more upbeat, danceable tune. Salim stood, and walked to where Ophelia was standing, applauding her husband.

Deftly, he took her hand and led her out to the dance floor.

Ophelia hadn’t wanted to choreograph and rehearse a first dance. She knew it was something that people often did, but to her, it just felt too much like work. Instead, she’d thought that, in the moment, the right movements would surely come to them.

And they did. Salim was a surefooted lead, and she felt safe and secure to spin and move with him across the floor. Of all the dances that she had been fortunate to perform, this was the one, and this was the audience, that she liked the best.

As the song began to change, their family, friends, and Ophelia’s fellow dancers joined them out on the dance floor, each bringing their own personalities to the music. Everywhere that Ophelia looked, she found herself surrounded by a joyful, beautiful, vibrant moving tapestry of joy and love and laughter.

And around her, Salim’s arms, guiding her and letting her improvise, always just enough of both. Always welcome.

“What are you thinking, my love?” he asked her, when he had her ear close enough to his mouth to speak.

A lump rose up in her throat, her happiness too great to even let her say the words aloud. But she swallowed it down.

“I’m thinking that it was all worth it,” she said, treasuring the closeness of his body to hers. “All the late nights, all the missed opportunities. All the stress and the striving and the frustration and the pain. Every bit of it was worth it. Because without all of that, I’d never have found my way here. I’d never have found you, and you’d never have given me the happiest night of my life.”

He drew her even closer.

“And you’d never have given me mine.”

As they danced the night away, Ophelia felt as though all of her life before this melted away into nothing. It was only what had led her here. This man, and this life, was her future.