“You’re not buying us drinks. I’ve got it,” he says, and Sara looks excited.
“Fuck yeah, breaking out the black card. Let’s get Vegas Bombs,” she says, and everyone seems to cheer up enough for me to slip away unnoticed, ordering an Uber.
It’s only after I’ve stepped into my apartment, I realize my whole body is still wired despite my emotional state feeling absolutely brutalized.
The one place I think I could actually try to figure my shit out is on the ice, and at least it’s almost the middle of the night so no one will be there. Before I can overthink and talk myself out of going, I’ve changed out of my jeans and sparkly top Macy begged me to wear into leggings and one of Jack’s sweatshirts I’ve refused to give back, then I’m on my way to the rink.
The parking lot is empty, much to my relief, and once I use my key to unlock the front door, I take a second to make sure the doors have locked behind me before going into the locker room to snag my skates from the shelf on top of Jack’s stall, holding my breath the whole time.
Ten minutes later, I have the lights turned on, and I’m stepping on the ice, gliding across the smooth surface.
Being out here has held so many memories for me, but I suppose it’s only fitting that most of my recent ones all include Jack. It’s been the place of so many happy moments in my life, but it’s bittersweet at the same time knowing it’s the source of some deep-rooted pain. I’ve spent years trying to be good enough at skating to win my dad’s love, then I gave it up for a boy who never deserved me.
I lose myself in the mindlessness of my warmups, skating until everything hurts a little less. I pop my first jump, and I can’t explain it, but it’s warranted. It feels like a well-deserved punishment to not skate at the same level I used to, and I push myself again and again, demanding more of my body despite the screaming in my side until everything hurts.
My knees ache as I miss my landing again, and I give myself a moment to catch my breath despite my leggings soaking in the moisture from the ice, overcome with emotion.
I feel the joy of loving something so much it physically hurts to know I went so long without it, and the devastating reminder of how easily I let Bradley control me.How could I have ever quit skating?
I love this more than anything in the whole fucking world.
It’s overwhelming and all-consuming, and I’m crying as my chest cracks wide open. Tears roll down my cheeks, and my whole body shakes as I sob. I’ve been free of Bradley for a year, but I haven’t fully broken free from the shackles of fear until now.
“Alondra!”
I lift my head upon hearing my name, but my vision is too blurry to make out who it is. At the last moment, I realize it’s Jack, just as he appears in front of me, dropping to his knees, his hands touching me everywhere. “Hey, talk to me. What happened? What hurts?”
I don’t know how to explain that I’m feelingeverythingfor the first time in a long time, mourning the girl I was and the one I am now.
“Did you fall?” he asks, cupping my face in his warm hands, the rough feeling of his fingertips touching me gently. Jack is always so careful with how he touches me. “Alondra baby,you gotta tell me what happened or I can’t fix it.”
“I-I—” I can’t make the words come out.
I haven’t been living. I’m ashamed of how long I spent merely existing, and it’s not enough for me.
He smooths my hair out of my face, wiping away my tears. “How can I make it better?” he whispers, the words a soft plea.
“I-I’m okay,” I choke out through quiet sobs, trying to smile at him because there’s not anything to fix. This is me feeling every damn part of myself I thought was broken, but like bruised ribs, time was all my bruised and battered heart needed to heal.
“You’re okay?” he asks, and I nod, countering the tears still falling.
Jack pulls me into his arms, pressing the sweetest kiss to the side of my head, and I give myself a moment of selfishness letting him hold me before using everything in me to move away.
“Sorry,” I stammer out, wiping my cheeks.
“Don’t be,” Jack says, watching me, and I’m afraid of what he sees. The two of us haven’t been alone since my birthday, and now it’s like we’re struggling to fit in the boundaries I put around us.
“How did you know I’d be here?” I ask, pushing up into a standing position, and Jack follows my lead, shoving his hands in his pockets.
“I didn’t,” he says, a sad smile forming when his eyes drop to my torso. Shit, I’m wearing his sweatshirt. “I came to clear my head. Guess we had the same idea.”
If it weren’t so damn ironic, I’d laugh, but instead, my cheeks flush. How embarrassing is it to think that he came here to find me when he actually just happened to be in the right place at the right time?
I brush the ice off my pants, the cold sinking into my bones, and I put space between us because it’s so tempting to apologize and take back the feelings I vomited all over the place in the heat of the moment, but I know better.
My love isn’t something to apologize for.
I said it, and I’m not ashamed of my feelings for him.
