33. Is This The Way It Goes?
JENNIE
The roar of the crowd rings in my ears, but it’s my anger that’s thundering.
Dangerous. Explosive. Lethal .
My heart thrashes, throwing itself at my rib cage like it might burst as I wait for the curtains to close.
“Jennie,” Simon starts once we’re encased in darkness, eager, excited as he releases me. “That was so—”
I twirl so fast I no longer feel the ground beneath my bare feet. The sound of my palm striking his cheek echoes behind the stage, stunning the crew to silence, leaving only the cheers of the audience.
Simon covers the red handprint on his cheek. The dumbfounded expression he wears only spurs me on.
“How dare you,” I seethe. “How fucking dare you.”
“Dazzling! That. Was. Dazzling !” Mikhail rushes toward us but stops short, his grin falling. “Jennie? Is everything okay?”
“No. Everything is not okay.” I stalk toward Simon, every inch of my body hot, right up to the tips of my ears. “No.” I shove my finger in his chest. “I. Said. No. Do you know what no means?”
His hands rise in surrender, or defense, as he nods rapidly.
“That’s funny. Because I’ve said it once.
” Another jab to the chest. “I’ve said it twice.
” Another. “I’ve lost count of how many fucking times I’ve said that two-letter word to you, yet you still—” jab , “—don’t—” jab , “—get it.” One more jab, extra fucking hard, just for good fucking measure.
“How fucking flawed is my judgment that I could never truly see you for who you are? That I gave you chance after chance, believed there was anything decent about you?”
“It was an accident,” he pleads on a whisper, eyes pinballing. “Keep your voice down.”
My brows fly up my forehead. “An accident? You accidentally kissed me without my consent? For the second time?”
There’s the gasp I was waiting for, Mikhail right on cue. “ Simon .”
“I-I…I got caught up. It felt right. With acting like we’re in love for the show and everything…It just felt right, Jennie.”
The laugh that leaves my lips is nothing short of menacing. “I don’t need to pretend like there’s anything more going on between us for the sake of the show. I’m a damn hard worker and my dancing will do all the talking, like it always does, like it has my entire life.”
I storm past the watching dance cast, finding my cubby, my bag, my outfit for dinner tonight, and I sling it all over my shoulder. The faster I get the hell out of here, the better.
I pause at the exit, meeting Simon’s worried gaze. “That was the last time we’ll ever dance together. I’m done with pairs, and I’m done with you.” I look to Mikhail. “Understood?”
He gives me a curt nod and a salute. “Yes, ma’am.”
I keep my head up as I push through the crowd filtering out of the auditorium, heading for the spot where Carter promised to be waiting.
He’s there. They’re all there. Except for one.
I try not to notice, but the same way his presence shifted my entire mood, brought me to life on stage, Garrett’s sudden absence leaves my body aching, tired, and I’m reminded that welcoming that man into my life brought me a whole lot of happiness I never knew I was missing.
It’s so staggeringly silent and gray without him, and I hate it.
The fury Carter is feeling is as palpable as my own as I march toward him. He opens his mouth, and I shove my finger in his face.
“Don’t even start. I don’t want to hear his fucking name. Not today, not tomorrow, and if you bring it up anyway, yours will be the next face I slap tonight, got it?”
Carter’s lips mash together, eyes wide. “Got it. I’ll go get the car.”
I’m wrapped in hold after hold, passed between family and friends as they praise my performance, and when I take a step back for some air, a hand wraps around my elbow, tugging me around the corner.
Garrett takes my face in his strong hands, thumbs sweeping over my cheekbones as his gaze touches every inch of me.
His eyes are hard, reeling with a fury so deep it makes his grasp tremble.
But there’s something else there. Something tangible.
Something strong and profound and genuine that throws me for a loop, because I used to believe I saw it, but I spent last night convincing myself it was never there.
“Are you okay, Jennie?”
“I’m…” Not. I’m not okay. Simon took something that didn’t belong to him.
Kevin took something that didn’t belong to him.
The only person I’ve willingly and eagerly given any pieces of myself to is this man right here.
I didn’t do it blindly or unknowingly. I did it slowly, cautiously, sometimes while I stared fear right in the face, dared it to prove me wrong about Garrett.
It never did. Every time I gave him another piece, he took it carefully in his hands, like each piece was delicate glass, something to be admired.
But now what? Where do we stand? Have I given all my pieces to someone who no longer wants them? Have I lost the only person who’s ever accepted all of me?
“No,” I finally whisper. “I’m not okay.”
The hardness in his eyes fades, giving way to the softness I’ve come to know, the tenderness I love.
Before he can say anything, Adam appears.
“Sorry to interrupt. Carter just pulled up out front, Jennie. He’s calling for you.”
I want Garrett to say no. I want him to take me home and tell me he didn’t mean anything he said yesterday. I want everything to go back to the way it was.
But he nods, and Adam places his hand on my lower back, guiding me away.
Something catches my pinky, and I look back, watching as Garrett’s own squeezes mine before slipping away, and somewhere deep inside me, my heart restarts.
* * *
It’s a quiet ride to the restaurant, Mom, Olivia, and Hank discussing how beautiful I was on stage. Carter keeps opening his mouth before second-guessing, which is probably for the best. Ninety-nine percent of the words that come out of his mouth are the wrong ones anyway.
When everyone exits the car, I slip one dress off in favor of another, right here in the front seat while Carter hands his keys over to the valet.
He takes my hand, helping me out and pulling me into his side for a hug. “You look beautiful, Jennie.” He kisses my temple. “And you kicked ass on stage. I’m proud of you.”
A sassy eight-year-old attaches herself to my torso as the hostess leads us to our table.
“You rock, like, so hard , Auntie J.” Alannah’s not really my niece; she’s Carter and Olivia’s.
But I love being Auntie J, and I think she’s the coolest kid out there.
“If I wasn’t already a kick-ass hockey player, I’d be a dancer. ”
“You could do both,” I suggest weakly. “Maybe you can be my first dancer when I open my studio.”
Her nose wrinkles. “Uncle Carter says you’re moving to Toronto to be a dancer.”
“I don’t know what I’m do…ing…” My train of thought derails when I spy the blond-haired giant of a man already seated at our table, anxiously drumming his fingers on the white tablecloth, and I trip over my own feet, bouncing off Olivia’s small frame.
Olivia’s gaze moves between me and Garrett as we stare at each other. She doesn’t say a word, but I her face softens before she pulls out the seat next to him, gesturing for me to sit.
“Oh, I…I should—”
Cara grips my shoulder, shoving me down. “You should sit.”
“Hold on.” Jaxon hauls me back up. “You didn’t take your coat off.” He slips it over my shoulders, fingertips trailing down my arms as he peels off my coat. He looks directly at Garrett, smirking as he does it. “Stunning,” he murmurs with a whistle. “Right, Andersen?”
Carter’s face appears between us. “Did you just whistle at my sister?”
Jaxon’s face drains of color. He shoves my coat into Carter’s chest. “No.”
“Great.” Carter takes the seat beside me, and now I’m stuck between my brother and the man I…I…I truly don’t know how to finish that sentence.
Well, that’s a lie. I know how to finish it. I just refuse to, now that I…we…now that we…
“You look like you’re gonna cry.”
“Huh?” My head snaps, finding Carter examining me. “No.” Oh fuck. I’m totally gonna cry. “I’m not feeling very well.”
“That happens to me sometimes when I play too hard on the ice, Auntie J,” Alannah pipes up. “It usually goes away with food, but sometimes I need a long nap.”
I struggle to smile back from across the table while feeling the weight of Garrett’s gaze on me, or rather, the hand I lay in my lap, face up.
It’s bright red and still stinging with pain from the force of my slap.
I prod at the pads below each finger, each one slightly swollen.
While Alannah continues, I briefly consider submerging my entire hand in the bucket of ice the bottles of champagne and sparkling water sit in.
“Uncle Carter probably needs a big meal and a nap too. He looked pretty angry when that guy kissed you, and he’s always happier after he eats and naps with Auntie Ollie. He gave me twenty dollars after he was done with the video camera though.”
Jeremy, Alannah’s dad and Olivia’s brother, barks a laugh. “I’m pretty sure Uncle Carter crushed the video camera between his hands.”
“I didn’t crush it, per se,” Carter argues weakly.
“Oh, my apologies. You shouted out a string of expletives and then finished with, ‘God-fucking-damnit, I broke the camera.’”
“So I’ll edit that last bit out. No big deal.”
“Do you know anything about editing video footage, Carter?” Adam asks.
He props his cheek against his fist and frowns. “I’ll pay someone. Might be able to edit S - T - E - V - E right out.”
“I’m not a dog, Carter,” I finally interject. “You can’t spell his name and expect me not to be able to string the letters together, the way you do with Dublin and the word walk .”
Carter mutters something about Dublin being more pleasant than me, and as everyone breaks into conversation, I tune it all out, concentrating instead on the loneliness that’s come roaring back into my life.