Chapter 10 #2
Maybe I should have called my therapist, but I used to talk to Brennan every single day.
And right in this moment, it was his voice I wanted to hear.
Tears burned in the corners of my eyes as I thought about how Brennan was just another person I’d failed, and I hastily wiped at them as they slipped down my cheeks.
My failings seemed to be piling up. I bit back a sob.
Cutting Brennan out of my life was just another reason for people to be tired of my shit.
Therapy says that grief doesn’t have a timeline—that we all deal with it in our own ways, in our own time. But it was so damn clear—even to a complete stranger like Lukas—that I was meant to have moved on by now.
“Aimee?”
I tried to stifle the sob, but he knew me.
“What’s wrong? Where are you?” He asked.
I could hear the sounds of the rink in the background. I shouldn’t be surprised that he was there—he didn’t stop skating or coaching after the accident. He’d taken time off, but he was currently helping Nicola and Louis, maybe Brittney.
I squeezed my eyes shut. Hearing his voice, it was like a balm. It worked with the cool air to settle me.
“Sorry, you’re probably busy,” I said through the tears.
“I’m never too busy for you Aimee. Where are you? Do you need help?”
I wiped my eyes and took a deep breath. “I’m on vacation with my family.”
He let out a sigh of relief. “Your mother told me about the trip.”
“I…I just wanted to hear your voice.”
I leaned my head back, letting my eyes fall shut. I could see him…almost. The tension dropping from his shoulders, muscles loosening when he realized I wasn’t in danger. That I was okay—physically.
“Do you know Madison started skating?” He asked, and my lips stretched into a wobbly smile.
Brennan had always understood what I needed—a lot of the time before I even realized it myself.
He’d watched me for so long, had been in my corner for so long—training, all the ups and downs.
He knew how to read my body, my expressions, mood, tone and he gave me what I needed.
In this moment, he knew I just needed a distraction.
A distraction from someone who never thought I was weak or broken, someone who thought I could handle whatever the world threw at me.
Maybe that was an unfair assumption of the other people in my life, but while Brennan was practically family, he also wasn’t.
I could always count on him to be objective, and right now, that’s what I needed.
I needed him to take my mind off everything roiling inside of me.
“Oh yeah?” I asked, my voice still thick with tears.
“Yep. She’s gunning for all your stats. Says she’s going to beat them all.”
A laugh bubbled out of me. Madison was Brennan’s eight year old daughter.
She’d grown up in the rink—on skates. I remember when she was born, and then the first time Brennan brought her out onto the ice in her little toddler skates, holding her hands above her head as he helped her ‘skate’.
Up until that moment, I didn’t know figure skates could come that small.
She was feisty and fun. I knew she’d go far.
It wouldn’t be hard for her.
“Tell her she has my blessing,” I said.
“She’s going to make you come to all her competitions—she’s demanded it actually.”
“Demanded? Well, I guess I have no choice.”
Being back at the rink—the idea didn’t thrill me. I’d only set foot in it twice since the accident. The first time was for a memorial service, and it had nearly killed me. The second time was to clear out my locker…and that had been terrible.
I blinked.
I remembered that Orion had taken one look at me, cursed, took a deep breath and then had lifted me into his arms. I’d ended up in the ER—the fall having fucked up my knee. Mom and Dad had pressed charges, and Amalia could have no contact after that.
“Brennan…” I started.
“One of these days, it won’t hurt as bad,” he said softly. “Plus, on the bright side, Brittney no longer skates here, so you don’t have to worry about her.”
I let out a low chuckle. I wished Brittney was my biggest concern, but I appreciated the levity
“What about Nicola and Louis? Are you still coaching them?”
“Yes, since I know you’re not offering,” he said, slightly teasing.
“Ha, you always were incredibly funny,” I deadpanned back. “Have you heard of a skater named Zara Fraiser?”
He was quiet for a minute, and I listened to the sound of birds chirping off in the distance.
“No, the name doesn’t sound familiar? How old?”
“Maybe fifteen or sixteen? I’m not really sure, but I would guess she’s not any older than that.”
“And she can skate?”
I nodded, “Yeah. She’s had some shit coaches—all of them dropped her.
None of them thought she could or would amount to anything because she started skating so late.
She seems to be mainly self-taught. There’s talent and drive there, but I think if another coach fails her she’s either going to quit altogether or seriously injure herself trying to prove them wrong. ”
“So, what I’m hearing is I need to prepare Madison for competition,” he said.
Another laugh bubbled out of me. “I don’t know if you’re looking for a new student, but she could be your next big thing. Even though she started late, she’s watched me for years, and has followed you for just as long. She wants it.”
I could see him—arms crossed, brows slightly furrowed as he thought about it.
“Give her my number—or her parents and have them call me. And if you can, get a video of her skating and send it over. I trust your judgement in this—if you think she could be good, I’m willing to do a trial run, see if she’d be a good fit.”
“Really?”
“Aimee,” his voice was slightly exasperated. “I trust you. If this girl has the potential you say she does, then she’s worth checking out.”
Brennan would have undoubtedly poked me in the forehead if he’d been standing in front of me. It was something he always did when he thought I was being unreasonable and stuck in my head.
Madison screeched in the background, and Brennan groaned.
“Get her to contact me. I have to go. Madison is tormenting the boys hockey team.”
I let out a low laugh, said goodbye, and he hung up.
I let my head fall back against the side of the building.
I held my phone to my chest and felt it rise as I sucked in a deep breath.
I let the cool mid-morning air wash over me—wash through me, calm me more.
Mentioning Asher and remembering he wasn’t there wasn’t always the worst thing in the world.
Sometimes it felt like it was though—like remembering him would break me into tiny pieces.
I closed my eyes again and focused on my breathing.
And for a few breaths I let myself remember his laugh, how his hands felt, his lips, and then when the pain started to be too much, I let the memories go.
I let the cool air whisk them away. I was about to push away from the wall and go back inside, when my eyes snapped open at the crunch of salt and gravel.
I came face to face with two girls, recognition evident in their expressions and their phones pointed directly at me.