Chapter 8: Threads of Tango
1198 Words
In the hallowed halls of the academy, I found myself engrossed in the art of teaching ballet to a group of enthusiastic children. Among the pliés and pirouettes, my attention was pulled to Anna, a student who had unintentionally become a piece in the tricky game I was playing. I couldn't help but think of the potential she had in linking me to Rita Vergara, the centerpiece of my retribution plan.
As the dance lesson came to a close, Anna approached me and handed me a lovely package with a wax seal. I accepted the envelope with a sly smile on my lips, knowing that within its folds lay a step closer in my calculated plan.
Curiosity dancing in her eyes, Anna looked up at me, "My mommy wanted me to give you this, Miss Therese."
I pretended surprise, my tone dripping with faux delight, "Oh, how thoughtful of your mommy. What could this be?" I teased, my mind already anticipating the contents.
Anna beamed with pride, "It's an invitation, Miss Therese. Mommy said she'd love for you to join us for tea."
Internally, I reveled in the success of this well-orchestrated move. With a measured tone, I responded, "How delightful! Please convey my sincere gratitude to your mother, Anna. I would be absolutely thrilled to accept."
As the young dancer skipped away, I couldn't help but admire the seamless progression of my plan. The next act was set to unfold, and Anna was unknowingly becoming a messenger of fate.
Later, as the other children departed, Anna lingered behind. Sensing an opportunity for a more intimate exchange, I gently inquired, "Anna, my dear, who will be picking you up today?"
With an innocent smile, she replied, "My daddy will come. He said he got caught up with something important at the company."
After an hour, a call from the lobby informed me that Mr. Patricio Vergara was awaiting the return of his daughter. I told Anna the news, seeing the joy in her eyes at the thought of seeing her dad.
We made our way to the foyer, hand in hand, to where Patricio stood, a figure of power and responsibility. Anna dashed into her father's hug, a wonderful expression of paternal adoration.
While the daughter and father shared a tender moment, I observed Patricio's demeanor. The tension between us was palpable, and as Anna and her father engaged in their familial reunion, I couldn't resist initiating a subtle exchange.
"Mr. Vergara," I greeted with a composed smile, "I must commend you on being such a dedicated father, taking the time to personally pick up your daughter after a long day's work in the corporate world."
Patricio, equally composed, acknowledged my words with a nod, "Thank you, Miss Therese. Family is paramount, and moments like these are precious."
We spoke of ballet, of family, and of life's intricacies. The unspoken tension lingered, heightening the undercurrents of our conversation.
Anna settled into her father's car, thus began a casual conversation that tiptoed around the edges of our hidden motives.
"Miss Therese," he began, "Anna speaks highly of your ballet expertise. It's not every day we have a prodigious ballerina teaching at the academy. How did you find yourself on this path?"
I offered a modest smile, a carefully crafted blend of humility and grace, as I responded, "Ballet has been my passion from a young age. It's a language that transcends words, allowing one to express the deepest emotions through movement. I was fortunate to have mentors who nurtured my talent and guided me on this extraordinary journey."
Patricio's eyes reflected a genuine interest, and I continued, "It's not just about the dance; it's about storytelling, about evoking emotions. Teaching allows me to share this profound art form with the next generation, to inspire young minds like Anna's."
He nodded, the subtle acknowledgment of understanding passing between us. "It's a beautiful thing, Miss Therese, to find purpose and passion in what you do."
I reciprocated with a nod, "Indeed, Mr. Vergara. It's a privilege to witness the growth and enthusiasm of these young dancers. Anna, in particular, has a natural talent and dedication."
With a courteous farewell, we parted ways, but the seeds of connection had been sown.
As the day unfolded, I returned to my residence to find Mario, a comforting presence in the familiar surroundings. His warm smile greeted me, and I couldn't help but appreciate the sense of stability he brought to my unpredictable world.
"Hey, Therese. How was your day at the academy?" Mario inquired, his eyes reflecting genuine interest.
Grateful for the opportunity to share my experiences, I began recounting the ballet lesson with the children, emphasizing Anna's role in my plan. "It was enlightening, Mario. Anna handed me an invitation from her mother today, sealed with wax. Rita wants me to join her for tea the day after tomorrow."
Mario's eyes widened with a mix of surprise and anticipation. "That's a significant development, Therese. Getting closer to Rita is a key step in your plan."
I nodded, appreciating Mario's understanding of the intricacies woven into my calculated moves. "Yes, Mario. It's a delicate dance, and every step needs to be perfectly orchestrated. Flawlessly."
Our conversation continued to a lighter tone as we joked about the oddities of our day. Mario, ever the thoughtful companion, opted to take care of the evening.
"I'll whip up something special for dinner. How does that sound?" he proposed, a playful glint in his eyes.
I chuckled, "Well, I hope it's an improvement from the last time. Your culinary skills have room for enhancement."
Mario feigned offense, "Challenge accepted, Therese. Prepare your taste buds for a delightful surprise."
The aroma of a wonderful a meal began to fill the air as Mario hustled in the kitchen. The rhythmic murmur of talk and the clattering of cookware create the tone for a relaxing evening.
Later, as we sat down to eat the meticulously prepared meal, the mood became a canvas for lighthearted conversation. I couldn't help but wonder how Mario had so effortlessly become a part of my daily life.
"Seriously, Mario, why are you always here?" I teased, raising an eyebrow in mock annoyance. "It's starting to feel like you live here."
Mario chuckled, "Well, Therese, consider it a 'friends with benefits' arrangement."
I raised an amused eyebrow, momentarily caught off guard by his cheeky response. "Friends with benefits? You're being childish, Mario."
The evening unfolded in a blend of camaraderie and shared laughter. As we settled into a comfortable routine, Mario's presence became a constant in my life.
"Therese," he began, his voice softening, "I want you to know that no matter where this intricate dance takes you, you won't face it alone. I'm here for you. Always."
Therese retires to her thoughts after dinner, reflecting on the upcoming anniversary of Eros' untimely death. She remains steadfast in her commitment to carry out every element of her plan with precision and finesse, fuelled by a never-ending fire of hatred. She makes a solemn promise in her room to bring her foes to their knees.
"I will make them taste the bitter agony of hell itself," Therese whispered.
- Writer
