The Broken Ballerina and the Doctor Who Healed Her Heart
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Summary
I had just claimed the prestigious Prima Award for dance, the culmination of two decades of brutal work. I was eight months pregnant, exhausted, and soaring. Then my husband told me I had to hand the title over to his Golden Girl.
When I refused, Lachlan ordered me to dance on a stage riser he’d covered in sharp carpet tacks.
The agonizing stabs pierced the soles of my feet. Blood mixed with my suddenly ruptured waters, streaming down my legs. I curled up, begging him to stop, but his voice was a sheet of ice.
