Chapter 36 Your Love Roars Louder Than My Darkness
Your Love Roars Louder Than My Darkness
Paisley
My phone slips out of my hands and lands on the parquet with a dull thud.
Knox’s breath is audible. My knees are wobbly.
I stand up, feel like I’m about to buckle, then, do, and stumble over to the sofa.
I sit down, listen to my heart, my heart that’s beating far too fast, and look at my hands.
They’re trembling. I knead every single finger, try to calm myself down, but I can’t do it. My whole body is shaking.
“Hey.” Knox sits down next to me. He takes my hands in his and turns me so that I have to look at him. “Slow your breath down,” he says. “You’re hyperventilating.”
I try but don’t manage. Knox places one of my hands over my stomach. “Breathe through your stomach. Against your hand. Exactly. Concentrate on taking long, deep breaths, in through your nose, out through your mouth. Try again, even more slowly. You’re doing great.”
The tingling sensation in my hands and feet begins to lessen somewhat. I run my hand over my neck and realize I am covered in sweat.
“I’m going to call Jennet,” Knox says. “However this happened…it shouldn’t have.
” He pulls his phone from the pocket of his jeans and scrolls through his contacts.
I feel dizzy. I don’t feel present. Everything around me is swirling into a blur, and all I can hear in my head is: I’m done. I’m done. I’m done.
“Hey. Yeah, this is Knox. Listen, there’s… What? I don’t care, and even if you were having breakfast with the President of the United States I wouldn’t fucking care. You stay on the line. Good. Have you checked your messages?”
I hear a ‘no.’ Knox stands up and walks back and forth between the standing lamp and the Christmas tree, where he’s reflected in the wine-red Christmas balls. His body looks immense, his legs three feet long.
Take a good look at him, Paisley. Take a good look at him. Who knows how much longer you’ll be able to.
“You were supposed to take care of the photos that were taken of us, Jennet. Of me and Paisley, yeah. In the stable. You said you’d make sure that every single picture would disappear. Did you? Really? So, how come that goddamn photo was published in USA Today?”
I’m sitting on the sofa, staring into the distance. I feel like this is it. My time in Aspen is over. That’s it with iSkate.
That’s it with Knox.
I knew it. From the very beginning, I knew that I wouldn’t get that far.
By now at Skate America, everything would have come out.
All the same, I came here in the hopes of feeling talented at least once, of seeing Skate America from inside at least once.
It was obvious that Ivan would find me. As was the fact that I’d have to go back.
I’m not made to accomplish things. I’m made to exist, to suffer, and take what life is willing to give.
How could I have ignored all that? How dumb, I think.
How dumb to believe that I could have a future with someone like Knox.
It’s time to look reality in the face. Maybe I’ll make it to Skate America, so I’ll just use this time, enjoy it in order to have memories I can think back on in order to survive somehow later on.
Knox curses. “Then a picture must have slipped through by accident? Jennet, are you aware of what you’re supposed to do in your job? Is it clear to you?”
Jennet mumbles something I can’t make out.
Knox has run his hand through his hair so many times that it’s sticking up all over.
“Then make sure that picture gets destroyed now.” Knox is steaming.
“I DON’T CARE HOW DIFFICULT THAT’S GOING TO BE!
THAT PICTURE COMES OFF THE WEBSITE OR YOU’RE DONE, JENNET, DONE!
” He hangs up, throws the iPhone onto the sideboard next to the front door, and walks over to me.
The sofa sinks when he sits down. “Paisley.” He pulls one leg up and leans sideways into the cushions, his elbows against the back of the couch.
“Tell me. Tell me what that guy’s got on you. ”
I shake my head. “How…”
“You’re safe with me. You know that no one can touch you here in Aspen, babe. Unless you’re running away from something else.”
At the word ‘babe’, everything in me tenses up. I can hardly bear the idea that any day now could be the last one he calls me that. The thought that he could call someone else by that name steals my breath.
I consider telling Knox everything. But then he’d know that our relationship has an expiration date.
Then he’d know that, soon, we’d never see each other again.
Can I burden him with that? Isn’t it enough that I have to live with that awareness?
I shouldn’t ruin his joy about the time we’ve spent together, really, but there are things that feel so terrible you just don’t want to carry them alone.
Moments that hurt so bad, all you want is to be taken by the arm and consoled or built back up.
I take a deep breath in order to tell him everything, to tell him what I did—then the panoramic window slides to the side, and Jack comes in from the terrace.
He is wearing a fluffy bathrobe and waving a paper in the air.
I only see the red circle next to the small font, but that’s enough.
“Did Jennet arrange this?” His tone is easygoing.
I think he’s happy about it. Of course he is.
It’s good publicity for his son. He puts the paper down on the island in the kitchen and pours himself a tea that I’d prepared.
“William’s snow rides and his stable are mentioned by name.
I’m curious to see how often he’ll bring that up at the next town hall.
This must be the best Christmas he’s had in three years, when his favorite butter-popcorn topping came back onto the market.
” Jack blows into his tea and casts us glances over the rim of his cup.
We don’t react. “Why do you both look like this is round two of Christmas dinner with Aria and Wyatt?”
I don’t say anything. Knox doesn’t either.
Jack sips his tea. The slurping sound drifts through the vast living room.
The saucer rattles as he puts his cup back down.
“Okay,” he says, drums his fingers across the granite a few times and then points behind himself with his thumb.
“If something comes up, I’ll be in the sauna. ”
He goes and Knox looks up at me. Waiting for an answer that just a few minutes ago I was ready to give. But in the meantime that window has closed. In the meantime my head was able to get rid of all the emotional ups-and-downs and make a case for rational decisions.
I smile. Put a hand on his arm. “It’s all good. It’s just…I don’t like attention. But if I want to be by your side, I better get used to it.”
Hard to say whether he believes me. I don’t think so.
But he doesn’t push it, doesn’t force me to talk.
Instead, he puts his arm around my shoulders and pulls me to him.
I bury my cheek into his chest, enjoying the soft fabric of his knit sweater and the fresh scent of vetiver, and convince myself that everything is going to turn out fine although I know that can’t be true.
“We’ve got to live, Paisley.” Knox is making circles on my upper arm with his thumbs. “We’ve got to live, no matter how many times our world threatens to go down.”