Split

Blake: I tried to forget her. But it was like trying to forget the air in my lungs or the blood in my veins. The music in my soul. Anya and I had been more than dance partners. More than lovers. We'd been young and full of hope. Looking ahead to a life together. A life loaded with adventure and promise. But I ruined it, and after ten years apart, she's back, more beautiful than ever. I'll reach out. Try to heal the wounds. But I don't carry much hope. Anya: Blake showed up in corporeal form yesterday. Guess he decided his shadow had haunted my dreams for long enough. I caught him staring at me from across the street, so he knows I'm in town. San Francisco has never felt so small. But I can deal with this. With him. When we cross paths we'll smile and say hello. Chat. Wave goodbye. Live out our lives, Blake in his dance studio, me with my patients. But one of the kids I council has invited me to his dance recital. If I go, I may be stepping onto a rough patch of ground I won't be able to navigate, even with my cane.