Dancing with Time

It's done. It's over!

Dedicated to juliaethel01

"Things end. People leave. And you know what? Life goes on. Besides, if bad things didn't happen, how would you be able to feel the good ones?" ― Elizabeth Scott, Perfect You

The tangerine dress clung to Juliet's curves like a second skin, ending just above her knees. Its strapless design showcased sun-kissed shoulders adorned with brunette curls cascading down her back in carefree waves. A touch of mascara and rosy lip gloss completed her natural look, a stark contrast to the electric atmosphere of the bar. The pulsing music throbbed in her head, a relentless counterpoint to the frantic questions swirling in her mind. What am I doing here? She thought, bewildered. And why on earth is this dress familiar? It felt like a forgotten relic from a past life, a life that might have included four-inch stilettos that clicked precariously on the polished floor with every uncertain step.

Her emerald eyes darted around the unfamiliar room, searching for an anchor in the sea of flashing lights and laughing faces. Then, they landed on him. Lucas. He was striding towards her with a predatory grace, a smirk twisting his lips. Her breath hitched in her throat, and a surge of anger flushed her cheeks, painting them a fiery crimson. His eyes, usually a warm brown flecked with green, held a glint she didn't recognize – a murky mix of intoxication and something else entirely. His dark hair, usually meticulously styled, hung loose in a way that spoke of carelessness, mirroring the rumpled state of his blue shirt that strained against his broad chest.

A frown creased Juliet's brow. What is he doing here? The confusion deepened. Where was she? How had she gotten to this place, which felt utterly alien? And where, most importantly, was Keith? Panic gnawed at the edges of her mind.

"Hey, babe," Lucas slurred, his voice thick and syrupy. The reek of alcohol that clung to him was a fresh assault on her senses.

"Lucas, you're drunk!" Juliet snapped, taking a firm step back. The physical proximity felt wrong, violating boundaries she'd carefully rebuilt. The anger within her threatened to boil over, fueled by the memories his presence dredged up. Why was she at Jessica's party again? The very thought of that night, the night she'd caught him with another woman, sent a fresh wave of betrayal coursing through her.

"You!" A new voice cut through the haze of confusion. It was Keith, his voice laced with a fury that sent shivers down her spine. She spun around, only to find him glaring daggers at Lucas, his steel-gray eyes blazing with a cold fire. Oh no, Juliet thought, her heart sinking. This isn't going to end well.

"Stay away from my wife," Keith growled, his voice deceptively calm. But the tension radiating from him crackled in the air, a silent threat more potent than any raised fist. Juliet knew the icy depths of his anger; she'd seen it a time or two during their volatile relationship.

Lucas, fueled by liquid courage or sheer stupidity, squared his shoulders and puffed out his chest. "Tough guy..." he scoffed. "What are you going to do about it? Juliet's mine!"

The world seemed to tilt on its axis. The color drained from Juliet's face, leaving her a pale reflection of her former self. The last thing she needed was these two men, fueled by testosterone and alcohol, fighting over her. Neither of them deserved the heartache, the drama. But Keith, with his unpredictable temper, was a ticking time bomb waiting to explode.

Just as Juliet was about to intervene, a hand snaked around her waist, anchoring her amidst the chaos. Keith's warm breath tickled her ear, sending a jolt through her. But before she could react, Lucas did something utterly unexpected. He smirked, a broad, unsettling grin that stretched across his face. Then, to her utter bewilderment, he burst into song, an off-key rendition of some forgotten pop tune. Juliet stared at him, speechless, as the music throbbed around them, a bizarre counterpoint to the unfolding scene.