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Married Before Midnight - Married Before Midnight by Sienna Quinn - Chapter 57
Author: Novels Audio
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Married Before Midnight
Chapter 57: The Test
Charlotte walked into the dress rehearsal with bloodshot eyes, the weight of the past few days pressing against her ribs like a vise. She had barely slept, tossing between anger and exhaustion, but she refused to let it show. The stage was her sanctuary, the one place where she could control the narrative—where she could be someone else entirely. Jamie was already backstage, flipping through his script with a furrowed brow.
The moment he spotted her, his expression softened, concern flickering in his eyes. He took a step forward, but Charlotte cut him off before he could speak. "Not now," she said, her voice sharp enough to slice through the tension. He hesitated, then nodded, stepping back. But he didn’t leave. Instead, he lingered just outside her periphery, a silent presence she couldn’t ignore. The rehearsal began, and Charlotte threw herself into her role with a precision that bordered on ruthless. Every line, every movement was calculated—perfect. Too perfect. Mr. Grayson, their director, frowned and called for a halt. "Charlotte, you’re acting like a machine. I need feeling." She clenched her jaw. Feeling? She had plenty of that—anger, betrayal, the sting of humiliation.
But she wasn’t about to spill it all out here, not in front of everyone. "I’ll adjust," she said flatly. Jamie watched her from the wings, his gaze heavy. When the rehearsal ended, Charlotte retreated to the dressing room, slamming the door behind her. She stared at her reflection—the carefully applied makeup, the practiced smile. A mask. A knock sounded at the door. "Go away," she called. "It’s me," Jamie’s voice came through, steady. She exhaled sharply. "That doesn’t change anything." The door creaked open anyway, and Jamie stepped inside, holding out a steaming cup of coffee. "Peace offering?" Charlotte eyed it, then him, her lips twisting into something between amusement and disdain. "You think coffee fixes everything?" "No," he admitted. "But I think you need it. And maybe… a friend." She laughed, the sound brittle. "A friend? Since when did you think I considered you a friend?" Jamie didn’t flinch. He just held her gaze, unreadable. "Since I realized you push people away when you’re hurt." Charlotte’s fingers tightened around the coffee cup. The warmth seeped into her skin, but she refused to let it thaw her. "Then prove it," she challenged. "Friends don’t disappear when things get messy." "I’m here, aren’t I?" She turned away. "For now."
That night, Charlotte lay awake, staring at the ceiling. Lena’s betrayal still burned, but Jamie’s persistence was a different kind of ache—one she didn’t know how to categorize. She grabbed her phone and typed out a message before she could second-guess herself. Tomorrow at 7 a.m. Old dance studio. Jamie’s reply came almost instantly. I’ll be there.
The next morning, Charlotte arrived early, already dressed in her dance attire, her muscles warm from stretching.
The old studio was quiet, the wooden floors worn from years of use. Jamie walked in exactly on time, his hair slightly disheveled, as if he’d rushed. He took one look at her and blinked. "Uh. I didn’t realize this was a dance thing." Charlotte tossed him a set of training clothes. "First test." Jamie caught them, bewildered. "Test?" "We’re performing the final scene. No words. Just movement." She arched a brow. "If you can do it, I’ll reconsider letting you help me."
Jamie stared at the clothes in his hands. "Charlotte, I don’t know how to dance." She shrugged. "I didn’t know how to be betrayed by a close friend either, but I still had to live with it." His jaw tightened, but he didn’t argue. He changed quickly, then stepped onto the floor, looking entirely out of his element. Charlotte pressed play on the music—a haunting, slow melody. "Follow my lead." What followed was a mess of missteps and near-collisions.
Jamie was stiff, his movements awkward, but he didn’t complain. He just kept trying, his focus unwavering. Charlotte didn’t soften. She didn’t offer praise. But as the minutes passed, something shifted. His hands, hesitant at first, grew steadier. His breathing synced with hers. And when he stumbled, she caught him—just as he had caught her, in his own way, these past few days. By the end, they were both drenched in sweat, their chests rising and falling in tandem. Charlotte crossed her arms, studying him. "Bonus point." Jamie wiped his brow. "For what?" "For not running away." He grinned, breathless. "Wouldn’t dream of it." Charlotte didn’t smile back. But the ice in her eyes had thawed, just a little.