WESLEY POV
True to my word, I went to see the ballet every night of Haven’s performance run. Some nights I went alone, other nights I came with one of the guys, or Jack and Shirley, or whoever happened to be interested in attending with me.
I leaned against my truck outside of the theater Sunday afternoon waiting for her to come outside, kicking rocks with the toe of my boot while I tried to be patient. All the dancers had to clear out their dressing rooms so everything could be cleaned and readied for the next ballet, and Maya had offered to take all of Haven’s bouquets back to their apartment so I could take her out for a late breakfast. Or “brunch,” as Maya liked to call it.
And Haven had a lot of bouquets. Because, one, I had bought her a bouquet of roses for every performance, a di
