Chapter 8

Sweet Memory Waltz

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They say the first time isn't the greatest.

And somehow, Emil could confirm that was true.

How did he know? Well, his evening with Robert ended in a rather awkward way. The date (which wasn't really a romantic date and yet it felt more like a blind date) came to an abrupt stop after Robert returned from the bathroom with his face screaming with confusion mixed with frustration and irritation and said, "I think...my stomach feels a little weird. We should probably go home."

Of course, Emil simply agreed. They returned to the mansion afterward, and not a single word was exchanged between them the entire way back.

Awkward, right?

Emil knew he had said something he shouldn't have, and he was very sure of it. He was aware he had been taking his role as Robert's fake lover a little too seriously, to the point that it made the older man excuse himself to the bathroom, and then decided to head straight home, not even finishing the food and the chat that they were having.

But Emil wasn't angry. In fact, he understood. He does! He had already expected Robert to react that way. He had prepared himself beforehand, making sure he wouldn't be too hurt (or take it too personally) when it happened.

Still, if he were given the chance to date Robert all over again, he would definitely remind himself to talk less when excitement took over, especially when it came to rambling about the older man he had loved for so long.

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"So...Dad's officially on indefinite leave starting tomorrow, right?"

Emil nodded as he neatly stacked the important documents and business proposals that would soon be handed over to Eric, Robert's only child and heir. With Emil and Robert temporarily away to take care of Robert's grandmother, Eric would step in as the acting CEO of the entire Vale Group of Companies.

But...

"Does Dad really need you there to help take care of Grandma Vicky?" Eric asked. "I mean, doesn't he already have a private caregiver for her? I get why he has to go...but you too? Seriously?"

"I already told you," Emil said calmly as he placed the box filled with pending documents and folders on Eric's desk, which needed further review and approval. "Your dad and Grandma Vale need me there."

"Even so..." Eric frowned, absently pushing himself back in his chair with his foot. "It's just strange knowing you're leaving the mansion."

"Why?" Emil crossed his arms, interested to hear what Eric was about to say. "Are you going to miss me?"

Eric narrowed his eyes at him. "Of course not," he replied wholeheartedly. "If anything, this works in my favor. No one will be running to Dad to report that I've started retaking acting classes."

"Don't worry," Emil said smoothly as he gave Eric a smug look. "Mrs. Palmer will take over as head of the household while I'm gone. She'll definitely report to me if you start prioritizing acting classes over board meetings and MOA signings."

Eric's expression immediately soured, followed by an obvious "tsk" that escaped his lips. The moment he heard that Mrs. Palmer—the Head of the Maids—would be running the entire mansion, a familiar sense of worry crept inside Eric. The mansion would be in good hands; there's no doubt on that, but Eric wasn't entirely sure his peace of mind would. You see, Mrs. Palmer was the oldest servant in the Vale household, and obviously the strictest. She served as Eric's tutor—slash disciplinarian while the young man was growing up. To put it simply, Eric had far more traumatic memories involving Mrs. Palmer than he did of learning how to ride a bike. At least with the bike, he could quit after falling a few times, which he did.

Unfortunately, there was no such escape when it came to Mrs. Palmer. So Eric was sure he wouldn't be able to find a good opportunity to sneak away for acting practice.

Eric frustratedly frowned while crossing his arms after realizing those things, something that didn't escape Emil's observant eye. Emil couldn't help but smile slightly. Even though Eric was already twenty-five, he still showed a childish side at times. To Emil, Eric was still the same boy he'd watched grow up. He clearly remembered the day Margarette gave birth to him, how happy Robert was, and how Emil himself had stood like an older brother to Eric, his young master.

However, Eric's focus hasn't been the sharpest lately, and it definitely worries Emil. You see, Eric's thoughts kept drifting back to his decision to re-enroll in acting school, along with his increasingly frequent trips to watch theater shows and Broadway performances. Of course, every outing came with his ex-fake lover turned bodyguard, Allen, who had probably seen more plays this month than he had in his entire life. But what really worries Emil is that when Robert finds out about all this, he'll probably get frustrated and mutter something like, "Can't that kid take all the passion he had for watching those shitty plays and put it into running the family business?"

That's why Emil carefully reminded (or perhaps it's more accurate to say, issued a gentle warning) about Eric's priorities in life.

"I'm not against your passions," Emil said to his young master, who was still sulking while looking outside through the office's glass window, "but you still need to focus on important things like the family business. Remember, you're not just responsible for the company's profits; you're also responsible for the livelihoods of your employees."

"I know that..." Eric replied. He looked as though he wanted to argue, but stopped himself, knowing Emil was more reasonable than his own argument. "But...you know it's different when you do what you truly love, regardless if some people think it's petty or useless, right?"

Emil didn't answer right away. Because deep down, he agreed. After all, all he could think about was his long service to the Vale family, especially to Robert—a devotion born from his unrequited love.

"Sometimes..." Eric continued while staring out through the office's glass window, "I wish I had a sibling who shares Dad's passion for running the business, or someone as dedicated as you who's always by his side despite his...you know...toxicity and controlling tendencies..."

"First of all," Emil replied, "part of my job is to stay by your dad's side and carry out what he asks of me. And second, he's not that toxic. He's just often misunderstood by many, especially those who do not know him very well. But when you actually spend time with him, he's really a good man."

"I know Dad's nice." Eric seconded the notion, "But for the record, you're the only one who can really understand him. Tell me, does nearly two decades of working with him do that to a person? I think I'd only last two days if it were just the two of us."

Emil chuckled and said, "Then you're lucky you're his son and not his employee because you probably wouldn't even last two hours working directly with him."

"Haha! Yeah, right!"

Then, suddenly, Eric turned to Emil and asked, "Don't you have a passion you can truly say you love? Well...besides being my father's assistant..."

The truth is...Emil does.

He loves dancing—specifically, ballroom dancing.

Perhaps he learned to love it because of Grandma Vale, Robert's grandmother, who adopted Emil when he was young. Emil hadn't been very outgoing as a child, and Grandma Vale helped him express his feelings through dancing. Since then, Emil has danced in secret. Whenever he gets the chance, he studies on his own and dances only when no one else is watching.

But it had been a long time since Emil last danced. He couldn't even remember exactly when he had stopped dancing because his world had revolved around Robert for so long that even the one thing he had learned to love (aside from Robert) had fallen and forgotten by the wayside.

Perhaps Eric was right about pursuing one's passion, as he mentioned earlier.

"Maybe I should...find another chance to dance again," he mumbled, almost to himself. Then, he paused, letting the thought of dancing again to settle. Somehow, he realized that his life had been all about duty—about Robert and about keeping everything for the Vale family,

But after talking to Eric, he somehow reclaimed a piece of himself that he had long forgotten.

That's right...

Emil closed his eyes and recalled the sweet tune of the waltz in his mind. He let his body move to the soft rhythm of piano and violin, while his hands and feet swayed freely with the music, like an old leaf carried gently by a calm breeze.

One...two...three...

One...two...three...

When he realized he was dancing in his mind, a small, satisfying smile curved his lips. For the first time in years, he allowed himself to feel that quiet excitement to stay.

Emil was ready to dance again.