The moment we had shared in the pool had been nothing short of magical, and Paul’s words about fate had me seriously thinking about my future. I wasn’t prepared to abandon my mother altogether, though I could imagine what she’d say if she knew what I’d been up to with the gorgeous circus performer: ‘Darling, if you’re going to act like a whore, you could at least get paid for your services.’

I had no plans to explain the passion I held in my heart for Paul, but I hoped at the very least she could come to see that he wasn’t as bad as she may have expected. I was certain she saw him as little more than a sleazy carnie, but I was also certain that if she saw his performance in the circus, she would be forced to see how talented he was. Failing that, she would at least see how gorgeous he was.

After taking a shower in my room, I dried off and dressed in something I knew my mother would like. It was the gaudiest dress I had brought with me on the trip, but she’d insisted I bring something extravagant to watch the entertainment she had put together. Truly, I didn’t even remember packing the dress, but I wouldn’t have put it past my mother to sneak it into my suitcase.

Rolling my eyes in exasperation, I flattened the sequined dress against my figure. My body still felt as if it were aflame where I had been touched so intimately, but I couldn’t allow myself to get swept up in the sensations. I wouldn’t get much done, lying in my bed and fantasizing all day.

I shook off the thought, feeling myself get flustered at how unlike myself I was being. If my mother had known the things going through my head, I was certain she would have disowned me in a heartbeat.

I was being unruly, altogether acting like the sort of ‘free spirit’ she claimed my father had been—a regular scoundrel. It would break her heart if I continued down this stretch, but for once in my life, I was going to allow myself to be selfish. I didn’t care if she claimed to be heartbroken by my so-called betrayal; I was going to live my life to the fullest.

As I approached my mother’s room, however, my confidence began to wane. She would usually be out drinking around this time of day, but I had messaged her to tell her I was looking for her. She’d replied that she was relaxing in her room, though in all likelihood, relaxing meant feeling sorry for herself.

I tried to remember what Paul had said about fate, about our stories being intertwined. I thought about the sheer adoration in his eyes as he’d made love to me, and there was no longer any doubt in my mind that what we were doing was rooted in love. Perhaps I was being foolish, perhaps I was being naïve, but I wanted so badly to believe in this idea of fate that Paul had instilled within me.

I had to shake off these thoughts before meeting with my mother. She always seemed to notice when I had my head in the clouds, daring to think about anything besides my future potential income. I’d learned to wear a mask of interest when it came to things she discussed with me regarding EBgen, but I could only hold out for so much longer. I continued to hold out hope that watching the event with me that evening would change her mind about free spirits altogether. Perhaps that was the naivest thought of all.

When I knocked on her door, she groaned for me to enter. I hesitated, lingering outside her door for a moment before pushing through. As I might have expected, she lay sullen in her bed, sunglasses obscuring her eyes from view.

“Are you all right, Mom?” I inquired gently, closing the door behind me.

She remained silent for a long moment, lowering her sunglasses to look at me.

“Mommy’s just tired, darling,” she drawled, adjusting the glasses back onto her face.

I could no longer tell if she was actually looking at me, which I suppose made it easier. I bounced from foot to foot, well aware of how anxious I must have looked, but she seemed to pay me little mind. Maybe she was adjusting to the fact that her daughter had—God forbid—a personality of her own!

“Stop with that dancing and tell me what’s on your mind. You don’t come to see me for small talk,” she said curtly, and I forced myself to fall still. I offered her the politest smile I could muster, clasping my hands in front of myself.

“I was hoping you would come with me to see the show tonight. Paul has one of the leading roles, and I think you’ll be really impressed,” I said, my voice cracking more than I would have preferred.

She chuckled, the sound nearly evolving into laughter before she cut herself off with a pained groan.

“Of course I’m going to see the show, you silly girl. I arranged the whole event, did I not? And though I have my regrets about hiring this Paul fellow, I suppose there’s no harm in watching him perform. That’s what the help is for, after all,” she hummed, sitting up and glancing at the clock.

I swallowed my anger at the implication that Paul was little more than a servant to her, remaining silent as she contemplated the time and God only knew what else.

“It’s starting in an hour, right? We may as well go watch the carnies set up their little act. I’ll have the catering crew begin serving early,” she said, slipping out of bed.

I felt my eyes widen, uncertainty creeping up my spine. My mother was clad in little more than a silk robe, and while I had seen much worse, I had my doubts about accompanying her in public. She slipped on her bedroom slippers, either entirely unaware of my distaste or reveling in it.

“Aren’t you going to wear the evening gown you packed?” I asked gently, and she turned a cocky smirk upon me.

“Oh, you know how it is, Ella. You just have to let it all hang out at these sort of events. What, don’t tell me that I’m more free spirited than you?” she said coolly.

I narrowed my eyes, immediately realizing the game she was playing. All right then, if she wanted to look foolish in front of her employees, it was no skin off my back.

“You’re right, of course, Mother. You’re always right,” I said blandly. “Let’s go, then,” I announced, slipping towards the door and pulling it open.

The evening air was cool on my skin, and I allowed myself to take a small comfort in it. The fire of passion that burned within me had given way to giant flames of rage, and while I felt entirely too hot and flustered to face Paul at the moment, I had no choice in the matter. I couldn’t let my mother see that she was getting the better of me.

We walked side by side towards the entertainment hall, and my mother threw the doors open with a flourish. The circus workers were setting up props for the show, and I spotted Paul in the center. He was clad in shimmering cloth, just enough to obscure his more private areas. His body was painted a beautiful shade of silver-toned blue, and my breath caught in my throat as I laid my eyes on him. He looked like some sort of angel, some mystical creature sent from the heavens to save me from my dull existence.

“Is that him? He looks like a goddam fairy,” my mother said with a smirk.

I refused to let the remark get to me, guiding her to our seats nearest the performing area without another word.

As Paul worked through the preparations for his routine, I watched with a content smile, noticing how the spotlight danced across his skin as if it were where he truly belonged. I sighed longingly, and my mother turned an icy glare upon me.

“Keep it in your pants, Ella, for Christ’s sake,” she bit out. I rolled my eyes, ignoring her as more and more people began to file in.

The crew retreated to the backstage area, and all that remained were the props they had set up. EBgen employees began to fill the room, and my heart pounded in my chest as I took in my mother’s tense expression. I was convinced that when she saw just how much her employees loved the act, she would have no choice but to admit that Paul was, at the very least, a good performer.

The lights dimmed, and I could hear the murmurs of the other passengers as everything went dark. All at once, a spotlight shone upon one of the highest acrobatic swings in the room. Paul stood proudly, seeming to hold no fear regarding how precariously he was balanced. Then, as if ready to accept his death, he plunged from the highest perch.

Gasping, I jolted forward in my seat, just as the rest of the mood lighting hit. Paul was caught mid-air by another man, who flung him across the stage. Paul flipped and turned gracefully, the silken cloth that clung to his form leaving very little to the imagination.

I glanced over at my mother, who—to my shock—seemed rather entranced by the act. She drew her attention from the stage where Paul was putting on one hell of a show, meeting my gaze bitterly.

“This is silly. Ridiculous,” she snapped, rising from her seat much to the complaints of the people behind us.

She barked for them to quiet down, and I felt tears pool in my eyes as she slinked down the hall and out of the entertainment hall. I rose from my seat in spite of how badly I wanted to see Paul finish his act, trailing after my mother like some lost puppy. She stood just outside the door, puffing on a cigarette as if her life depended on it. I approached her carefully, knowing that it would take very little to set her off.

“Why did you leave the show, Mom?” I whispered nervously, and she fixed narrowed eyes upon me.

“Because it disgusts me to see where my daughter might end up someday soon. Ella, do you know how hard I worked to see that you would lead the most privileged life possible? Do you know the agonizing hours I worked? How can you be so willing to throw it away just to engage with some pathetic low-life?” she spit out, stepping closer to me and exhaling a plume of smoke.

I coughed, feeling my fury alight once more.

“You never cared about what I wanted, Mom! My whole life, all you’ve ever cared about was the company. But I like Paul, and he likes me. He’s a free spirit, and being with him has shown me just how little I desire the life you’ve laid out for me. He’s shown me that I’m the one in charge of my destiny. Not you!”

She tensed, looking as if she wanted little more than to slap me across the face. It almost felt worse when she simply turned her back on me and started walking.

“No daughter of mine would act like this,” she muttered, slinking away.

I felt more tears gather in my eyes, a mixture of anger and agony. I slumped against the outer wall, hearing the rounds of applause from inside the entertainment hall. I couldn’t go back in, not now.

I could only hope Paul would forgive me for missing the show. I’d already lost my mother, it seemed. I couldn’t bear to lose him, too.