Page 98 of Ice Dance

In some kind of tall, grand corridor with enormous windows down one side, I heard quick footsteps chasing me down.

I glanced over a shoulder.

Ren.

And stopped.

“What is going on with you?” he snapped, in that level, straight voice of his that meant he was furious but keeping it all locked inside. “You’re acting like a spoiled child.”

There was so much going on with me that I didn’t know where to start. All of it wanted out, but had wedged somewhere in my chest and throat. All I could do was laugh. “You have no fucking idea, do you.”

“No, I don’t. Your behavior at the table was frankly shocking.” He spoke harshly and low, trying to keep his voice down but also somehow shouting too.

“Which part? The part where I stood up for myself, or the part where you couldn’t stand to talk to me like I’m your partner not you fucking escort?”

“Don’t be ridiculous. I’ve been right there all night.”

“No you haven’t, you’ve been a careful distance away at all times. Can’t have the trash dirtying up your reputation.”

“You know I don’t feel that way.” He reached for me, but only because we were alone. If there’d been people here, he wouldn’t have stood so damn close.

I stepped back, wincing as my hip burned. “And what was that out there, huh?”

“My father⁠—”

“You’re ashamed of me.”

“No.”

“You won’t even go for fucking beers with me after work.”

His lips parted. He waited a beat. “I’m tired.”

Tired. He was tired? “But you’re not tired enough to come to my apartment and get off when it suits you, right?”

Anger flashed in his eyes. “We will talk about this later. You need to calm down. My father⁠—”

“Calm down?” I turned away, then turned back and sneered. “I can have you in the dark but not in the light. That’s what it is. Just say it.”

“Yes, that’s exactly what this is,” he hissed, stepping in close. The venom in his words sank into my veins, ripping out the fire the fury had built there, leaving me suddenly cold. His eyes had gone cold too. “What were you expecting? We cannot be together like you want. Ever. That is not my life.”

I’d known it and pushed it aside, but hearing him say it and feeling him rip my heart out in that wretched hallway at the same time, had me realizing I’d hoped for more with him. I was so fucking stupid. I loved him. Why had I done this to myself?

I backed up, needing space, needing to get away from him, get away from my own stupid mistake of falling for a man who only knew how to use people.

“I’ll get a taxi back,” I mumbled, turning away.

“Good.”

That final good hit me like a ridge in the ice I hadn’t been expecting and shouldn’t have been there. I tripped, and glanced back, but he’d gone. He couldn’t get away fast enough.

I shoved my way into the bathroom. The door hit the wall and bounced back. Nobody was inside, just me and my reflection in the mirrors over the basins. I braced against the countertop, breathing, burning up, choking, dying inside.

The pain from my hip had saliva gathering in my mouth. I ached all over, my stomach flopped, thinking about bringing back up all that fancy food. I dug a hand into the pocket of my too-tight, itchy tuxedo and pulled out the Tramadol. Two tablets, water from the faucet, and down they went. Everything hurt—my head, my heart, my body. But mostly my heart. I was breaking, right there in the bathroom, unravelling.

A sob tried to claw its way out of me. I smothered my mouth and leaned against the wall.

That is not my life.