My therapist’s words from our first session pulsed in the back of my mind.
Every time you say yes when you mean no, you teach yourself that your needs don’t matter.
“Mum, we’re not doing the skate. I’d love to, but I’m too tired to re-choreograph it—and I don’t want to do it a disservice.” Not a lie.
“Matilda, I cannot tell you how upset and disappointed I will be if you don’t do this skate.”
“My not doing it isn’t a reflection on you or the skate, Mum. I’m just—”
“I’ve supported you your entire career and you can’t just have a few late nights to repayme?”
My heart stuttered. Doubt creptin.
“I’ll come to your training sessions to help—”
Fuck. That.
“No, no. We’ll do it,” I rushed out. The last thing I wanted was her interrupting our training sessions. They’d become mine and Luca’s time—I’d come to treasure the hours we spent together on the rink. There was this familiarity that came from knowing each other’s bodies. A type of intimacy that we hadn’t had before, but continued to tiptoe around.
“Good.” She didn’t question my sudden change of heart. “I’ll let Mark know that you’ll be doing it for the final, too—should you makeit.”
I said good night and excused myself, then let my head fall into my hands with a frustrated groan. I’d been so close. I tried to tamp down the anger—at both myself and my mother. Pulling out my phone, I opened my text messages to Luca.
Me: Want to put in some extra hours at the rink this week? Our choreography is going to be intense.
His response came immediately.
Luca: Absolutely.
That was it, then—time to get planning. I flicked on the kettle and began making a coffee. It was going to be a long, long week.
“Stevens.” A deepyet gentle voice seeped into my consciousness. A warm hand gently squeezed my shoulder. As I came out of my daze, so did the ache in my neck from where it was bent against the arm of the sofa in our dressing room.
“Why are you sleeping here, sweetheart?”
A cloud of confusion clung to my thoughts as I blinked awake to find Luca, cast in light from the TV that was playing in the dim room. I must have fallen asleep. Since the call with my mother a few days ago, I’d been working overtime to ensure the skate was perfect.
“What time is it?” I croaked, sleep coating my words.
“Almost midnight.”
“Jesus.” I sat up, rubbing my eyes. Luca placed a box on the coffee table and took a seat next to me on the sofa. “I must have fallen asleep watching tapes.”
“Why were you watching tapes by yourself?”
“I needed to plan a few things for practice tomorrow.”
“You should have said. I would have stayed with you.”
I shook my head, still dazed from my nap. I didn’t want to inconvenience Luca by making him watch the tapes repeatedly. At least one of us should get a good night of sleep in. As if reading my thoughts, Luca leaned back on the sofa and opened his arms, gesturing me toward the space.
“Come here,” he murmured softly.
I put it down to exhaustion that I didn’t hesitate before I shuffled along and curled myself into Luca’s arms. He was warm and strong, everything I wanted when I was feeling sleepy. I tried not to think about how right it felt—how the tension between us hadn’t faded. If anything, it had sharpened. Our glances lingered longer. Every brush of contact buzzed with something more.
“Wait—how comeyou’rehere?” I asked after a few moments, once my brain had fully wokenup.
“I stopped by your apartment earlier and you weren’t there. When you didn’t answer your phone, I knew you weren’t with Taylor, because you always have it on in case of emergencies—and you didn’t mention you were seeing her this evening. I sort ofpanicked a bit,” he said sheepishly. “I texted Lily and she said you’d probably be here, so I wanted to check everything wasOK.”
