Chapter 26 Laney #2
He studies my face as I realize, my fight isn’t with him.
It’s my dad’s fight with my mother. It’s the barely hushed conversations they had about using savings for traveling to races.
It’s the times she’d mumble, “You need another new pair of shoes? Why can’t you wear your sneakers on the bike?
Wouldn’t that save you time in the transitions anyway?
” It’s all the ways she made it harder for my dad to follow his passion.
And then he got sick.
After he died she ran.
Ran is an ironic word to use. She hated running. She hated everything it represented. I think she hated how much my dad loved it.
How much I loved it.
"Laney?"
Post-race blues strike again because when I blink up at Miguel I realize tears are falling down my cheeks. His deep brown eyes are warm and inviting and I can’t stand the way they’re looking at me right now. Like I’m someone who needs a hug.
And I do, but I don’t want him to know I do.
I want to be the strong, perfect Princess he had in his bed last night.
The woman who is determined and accepts help because of her strength.
Not the weak little girl who is helpless to get what she wants.
This summer was supposed to be about doing everything I can to make my dad proud. To fulfill his wish for me in the timeline he set.
Instead I’ve gone and fallen for my coach and gotten completely swept up in being with him.
Except, I’m not just with him am I? He’s coaching me, coming up with training plans, making me fucking food, taking me out to see my favorite ice dancer!
I have taken so much from Miguel. I’ve practically used him.
I don’t deserve him and his support. What have I given him in return?
"I’ll pay you back." I say as I sniff back my tears and shuffle stiffly out into the room.
"What the hell are you talking about?" Miguel follows.
"I’ve been so selfish. I’m sorry, I’m just seeing it now.
You’re literally giving me like half of your time and I promise as soon as I get a sponsor I’ll pay you back.
" I force my arms and head into a shirt, trying to minimize the strain on my back muscles, then I sit on my side of the bed and slide into a pair of shorts.
"Where did you get the idea I wanted to be paid back? I feel like I’m missing something here, Laney."
"I’m using your expertise, your skills. I’m taking so much from you."
"Can’t you see how much you give me?" Miguel yells and I turn to face him. His chest is rising and falling and that fucking lion tattoo on his thigh peaks out of the towel. "Christ Laney, my stats, my recovery, my fucking mental health, everything is better because of you!"
His words are kind but he’s yelling them.
The delivery confuses me and I hate that I’ve made him upset. If my post race body would let me, I’d crawl to him now just to make him feel better.
I don’t have to though, because Miguel takes tentative steps towards me.
"You’ve given me purpose, Laney." His voice is gentle, measured. "You’ve inspired me to stay in the sport. To push myself further. You’ve reminded me how much I love the entire world of endurance sports."
Miguel’s fingers brush along my cheek.
"Laney, I might just love you."
His whispered words wrap around me.
Miguel loves me.
Imperfect, unsponsored, chaotic me.
"You do?"
"Yeah," he laughs. "I never imagined a woman as vibrant as you would look at me twice. But you’ve burrowed yourself so deep into my psyche I can’t have a thought without it including you."
"Miguel–" I start, but I don’t have any words to share. My love for him is an all encompassing feeling and three little words hardly do it justice.
"And you don’t have to say it back. I’m just realizing as I see you process some sort of pain, as I see you trying to push me away, how much I want to help heal the pain and be there for you, always."
"I’d like that." I admit, honesty is on the table.
"Yeah?"
"Yeah."
My eyes flutter closed as Miguel cradles my head and presses his lips gently against mine. My arms slide around his back and I press him as close to me as possible.
Before our kiss can deepen further there’s a knock at the door.
"I’ll get it." I say as Miguel presses a kiss to my neck.
Behind me he gets a change of clothes and steps into the bathroom. I open the door and Dee is standing there with two full bags of take out and her eyes squeezed shut.
"Everyone decent?" She asks.
"Dee, I wouldn’t answer the door naked."
She opens one eye to double check.
"But is Miguel naked?" Her tone is hopeful.
"I’m changing." He calls from the bathroom.
"Dang." She mutters as she steps into the room. "I kind of wanted to know what you were working with."
I roll my eyes. "Boundaries Dee." With that reminder, I lead the way into the room. "Thanks for bringing dinner."
"Of course! If my bestie wants to celebrate her achievement with seventeen pounds of rice and fried food in sauces, who am I to object!"
"This is hardly the meal I expected you to approve of post race." I say to Miguel as he takes a seat at the desk.
"I took you for ice cream after your shoeless race." He says as he reaches for an egg roll. "Post race refueling is about calories in. Tomorrow we can make sure it’s nutritious."
"I can't believe you just get up and do it again." Dee says as she forks some rice into the lid from the garlic chicken and broccoli. On the rare occasions we’ve gotten take out, we always use the lids as plates to eliminate the need to clean up.
"It might be crazy, but," I glance up at Miguel. "I love it."
He smirks bashfully and I can’t wait to whisper the words to him as I fall asleep in his arms. Because, he’s right, I can barely have a thought without it involving him.
He’s generous, and has such a dry sense of humor. And he gets my world. He gets what I’m trying to do.
He’s giving me a chance to rewrite the history of the war my parents battled. Each swim, bike, run, workout, shared meal, and shared kiss healing the little girl who just wanted to see passion rewarded with support.
He’d never pit himself against my ambition and I love him all the more for it.