Chapter 23
Warren Atwell’s Legal Briefs: Always keep your eyes on the desired outcome.
I must have lost my mind.
I spent four years in college, three more in law school, six months to pass the bar, and five years as a lowly law associate, and I lost track of how many years I have been in family practice on Pleasure Point.
All of that experience should make me a rational, thoughtful man. Someone who weighs the pros and cons before jumping head-first into a boatload of malarky.
But one look from Avery and all of that intelligence flew right out my ear.
I swallowed the fear that bubbled in my throat, the taste of uncertainty acidic and bitter.
Avery stood poised as she watched Dominic attach her safety gear.
He moved confidently, his strong fingers methodically securing the harness around her frame.
The sun cast a warm glow on the rigging, but I felt a cold sweat trickling down my back.
The only thing that took my attention away from the ridiculous feat I was about to attempt was Dominic. He spent a little too much time holding onto her waist, in my opinion, and I was seconds away from boxing his ears for getting too fresh with my wife.
Thankfully for his face, he finished securing Avery in the harness and turned to me on the other side of the net.
“Are you ready?” He asked me as he finished clipping everything in place.
“As I shall ever be.”
“Sure you are.” Dominic smirked at me, and I fought another urge to punch him in his smug face. “Keep your eye on where you’re going. Don’t look down.”
“Do they pay you extra for this ridiculous advice?” I glared at him but began climbing the wooden planks, which swayed with every step. Calling it a ladder was generous. While Mr. Spangled Bodysuit aggravated me, I heeded his advice about watching where I was going and not looking down.
When I reached the platform, I clutched the main pole, my knuckles turning white as I fought to steady my trembling hands.
The scent of fresh wood and the faint hint of sweat filled the air, but I could only focus on my racing heart.
I began my breathing exercise, inhaling deeply through my nose and exhaling slowly through my nose, each breath a desperate attempt to calm the whirlwind of anxiety swirling inside me.
I glanced across the way to Avery, who stood confidently on the opposite platform.
A wide grin spread across her face, and her eyes sparkled with excitement as she looked back at me.
One arm was wrapped around the support pole, her grip steady and relaxed, while her other hand clutched the trapeze bar like a long-lost friend.
I could see her muscles coiled with anticipation, a stark contrast to my tense posture.
I lost my breathing rhythm, and worry twisted in my gut as I took in her demeanor.
Avery thrived on moments like this, where adrenaline coursed through her veins and every nerve hummed with possibility.
She bounced lightly on her feet, her energy nearly infectious, and I felt a pang of envy.
How could she be so fearless? I was painted in shades of doubt, grappling with the height and the leap into the unknown, while she seemed ready to embrace it all.
Avery’s smile faltered. “You doing alright?”
“Fine,” I said through gritted teeth. I took another breath and couldn’t shake the feeling that this moment might change everything—for better or worse.
“Keep your eyes on me, Warren,” she said.
“Can do.”
“Reach for the bar, Warren.”
I looked to my left, where the bar was pinned back. I unhooked the bar and held it in my palm, which was already sweating off the chalk I applied before climbing up there.
In through the nose. Out through the nose.
“Ready?” Avery called.
I nodded, slowly pried my right arm off the pole, and grasped the trapeze bar in both hands. All I had to do was swing out a few times, flip around, and hang upside down by my knees. I could do that. Yoga headstands were much more difficult. This would be a piece of cake.
A piece of cake ten feet in the air.
No. No. No.
I closed my eyes.
In through the nose. Out through the nose.
I needed to get my shit together. Otherwise, Avery would do this with someone else - maybe even Dominic.
My eyes flew open and focused on my wife across from me.
I nodded to her once, reared back, and swung out on the bar before I could think too hard about it.
The momentary feeling of weightlessness was not as bad as I imagined.
It felt almost… pleasant. I could see why Avery was such a daredevil with heights.
It did not mean I wanted to do this every day, though.
I swung back and forth a few times, gaining speed before pulling up my legs and feeding them through my arms. I hooked my knees over the bar, wrapped my ankles around the ropes, and let go with my hands.
In through the nose. Out through the nose.
I opened my eyes to spy the net far below me.
In through the nose. Out through the nose.
“Look at me, Warren,” Avery called from far away.
In through the nose. Out through the nose.
“Warren?”
I blinked a few times and focused on her voice.
“That’s it, husband. Watch me. Let me know when you’re ready to catch me,” Avery said.
I nodded but couldn’t speak.
In through the nose. Out through the nose.
Avery swung out on the trapeze, pumping her legs, and it looked like she was flying through the air with the greatest of ease. My heart soared each time she swung back over the podium and piked her legs to prevent them from knocking into the wood.
In through the nose. Out through the nose.
I wiped my clammy hands on my thighs as I attempted to keep the momentum on my side.
For a moment, I thought she would keep swinging on her side and not attempt a catch, but then, she yelled, “Hup!”
Everything moved in slow motion. My heart pounded in my throat, the cadence like a drum echoing in the still air.
I stopped breathing. Anticipation pressed into my chest as I reached toward her, my fingers stretching out.
She released the bar and flew toward me, her body a graceful silhouette against the bright lights of the hall.
Her face lit up with exhilaration and joy - eyes sparkling, mouth open in a gleeful smile.
She soared through the air, embodying freedom, recklessness, and something else I was unprepared to name.
I strained my fingertips toward her, every nerve in my body alive with the desire to connect. The warmth of her hand brushed against mine for a heartbeat before she slid away from me.
“Avery!” I screamed and reached toward her as if I could rewind time, suspend gravity, and call her back into my hands.
She fell with a smile on her face and let out a “whoo hoo” right before she landed in the net. She bounced a little, then settled back in the net with a scream.
Adrenaline pounded in my veins. My vision tunneled to her face, which was contorted in pain. And all thoughts of being afraid of heights went out the window as I flipped out of the trapeze bar and fell toward her on the net.
The second I was in the net, I crawled toward her side. I ran my hands over every inch of her body, searching for injuries or what caused her to scream. I did not even realize I was shouting her name over and over.
“Avery! Avery! Avery!”
A slight tap on my shoulder brought me to my senses. I blinked a few times at the smiling face of my wife.
“Warren? I’m okay,” Avery whispered. “I’m okay. Here.” She grabbed my hand and placed it on her chest, where I could feel her steady heartbeat.
“You screamed.”
She grinned. “I did. Because that was freaking awesome!”
“I thought you were hurt.”
Avery caressed my face. “Not hurt. Happy. That was fun. I want to do it again. Will you try again?”
Her eyes lit up like stars in a night sky as she smiled, a glimmer of hope dancing behind her gaze, anticipating my agreement.
But deep in my gut, a heavy weight settled, a familiar dread that wrapped around me.
I knew there was no circumstance under which I would ever climb up to face that ordeal again.
The thought twisted my insides, and I hesitated, grappling with the words that felt lodged in my throat.
As I struggled to find the right moment, it seemed the truth was already etched across my face. The brightness in her eyes slowly flickered and dimmed, the vibrant spark replaced by a shadow of disappointment. She nodded, a sigh escaping her lips.
Avery’s shoulders slumped in resignation. “Okay. I understand. It was a long shot.”
With a heavy heart, I watched her climb toward the edge of the net, her movements slow and deliberate, as if each movement took an immense effort.
She swung to the floor, and the thud of her landing felt like the finality of a door closing—an echo that bounced around in the hollow space of the hall.
I remained in the net, suspended in a sea of swirling emotions, trying to piece together my thoughts and shove that gnawing feeling of disappointment back into its confining box.
No matter how much I wanted to, I could never be the man she needed.