28. Jolie
28
JOLIE
L ark bursts through my door. “What happened?” She clutches a pointe shoe over her head, eyes darting around the room until they land on me. “Are you okay?”
Oops.
I swivel my chair the rest of the way around to face her. “Sorry, just got excited.”
My cheeks are sore from how hard I’m beaming, joy bubbling up from my belly like I’ve sipped too many sparkling waters.
This news is everything I need right now. Giselle was the perfect distraction, but now that rehearsals are dying down, the lack of perpetual motion makes the tender ache of missing Jax more raw. A partially healed wound scraped against pavement.
“Excited is good. I’m down with excited.” Lark bounces into the room. Her arm drops by her side, but she still holds the shoe. “I thought something murdery was happening.”
“Nope. Nothing murdery.” I laugh, nodding toward her hand. “Though, I’m glad you were ready to fight…with your very dangerous shoe.”
Her gaze hones on mine.
“Always.”
I arch a brow at her. “What were you planning to do?”
“We both know the blocks of these babies can hurt. Figured I could swing ’em around a bit, maybe strangle them with a ribbon.”
“You’ve thought about this in far too much detail.”
She merely shrugs, then tosses the shoe onto the floor and comes closer. “So what’s got you excited?”
“ Look .” I swivel my chair off to the side, making sure she can see the email glowing from my laptop screen.
“Holy shit, Jolie!” Lark’s leaning over me, hands on the desk while her lower half hops up and down. Her body is vibrating with all the excitement that thrums through me, and I love her for it. “Holy shit. This is huge! I’m so freaking proud of you.”
“Thanks!” My cheeks heat. “I’m actually going to be in the Ballet World Summit. I can’t believe it.” I sigh, trying to freeze the reality of this moment. My mom and I always planned to attend the summit to celebrate when I finally made principal. Maybe that dream hadn’t come true, not yet at least, but in a way, this feels like a sign from her. Not only will I be there, I’ll be performing . “Have they sent out the list for the Institute yet?”
“No. Maybe they will before the end of the week? We both know who’s going to be on it.” She rolls her eyes. “Did you ever reply to his texts after the showcase?”
“Nah. I blocked his number. And honestly, there’s not really anything else to say.” I take one more look at the email, enjoying the serotonin boost it brings, then I release a sigh. “You were right about him.”
“Maybe I was, but that doesn’t mean I am happy about it… I’m sorry.”
“There’s nothing to be sorry about. It’s easy to be blind to the things we don’t want to see, even when they’re right in front of us.”
Lark wasn’t trying to be right. She was trying to do right by me. Too bad I was so starved for a morsel of affection, I overlooked the obvious signs. The more I look back on our relationship , the more flawed patterns weave into my recollection. What we had was flimsy, awaiting the final thread to finally unravel.
And boy did it unravel quickly.
“Congrats, Ms. Wilder,” Mistress Maral says the next day, placing a gentle hand on my elbow to hold me back as the rest of the class exits. Evelyn is the last one out the door. She shoots me a curious glance, but I wave her on, pointing toward the recovery room where I’d meet her and the others. “I hope you’re excited for this opportunity.”
“I am. Thank you again for recommending me.”
“Hmm.” I can’t tell if she’s agreeing with or assessing me. Knowing her, probably both.
“I have to admit, I was a bit surprised. Why me?” My voice comes out hoarse between catching my breath at the end of class and insecurity over what she’s getting at, despite not wanting to leap to conclusions.
“I had my doubts,” she agrees. My stomach sinks, my nerves ready to rattle my carefully crafted composure in the name of professionalism. “But you’ve more than proved your mettle since coming to Ballet Potomac. I fully believe if you keep up the good work—and continue going to your physical therapy appointments—you’ll be a strong candidate for promotion.”
“Really?” I barely squeak out the word.
“I wouldn’t have made the recommendation if I didn’t believe you could do it.” Her lips straighten into a thin line. “Now, you’ll just need to do me a favor.”
“Of course. What do you need me to do?”
The corner of her mouth quirks upward. “Prove me right.”
I head to the dressing room and change into my bathing suit, the one I’ve had tucked in my bag for weeks. If Ballet Potomac is finally embracing me, it’s time I take the plunge and embrace them right back. It’s a new season with the company, another fresh start. Mistress Maral’s subtle confidence in me is the boost I need as I walk from the lockers over to the door. I inhale slowly a few times, peering through the slice of glass between the dressing and recovery rooms.
You’ve got this, Jolie.
I push the door open and smile over at Evelyn, Sara, and Veronique. The first two are still in the large ice-filled tubs while Veronique dries off with a towel. She furrows her brows at me, rightfully confused. “Are you about to do what I think you are?”
“I think so.” My legs are a bit wobbly. I’m not sure if it’s from my nerves or working so hard in rehearsals today.
“Ahh! Get on in, girl,” Evelyn calls over, reaching an arm out to pat the basin next to hers. “I’ve got about seven more minutes left. Come join in for what you can of them.”
I release a breath and shake the towel off my shoulders, showing off my navy one-piece halter swimsuit. Pale-pink flower petals descend from the neckline, scattering down my torso. I move to the side of the basin between Evelyn and Sara and hang the towel on the rack. I can already feel the temperature shift just by being so close to the water’s edge.
I rub my hands together quickly. “Okay.”
“Do you want some help getting in?” Veronique offers, extending her hand.
I almost tell her I can manage on my own but grip her palm instead. I brace myself for the sting of ice, along with any memories that surface with it. Every time I’ve even looked at these basins, I’ve been haunted by the memory of the accident.
My body submerged in the freezing water.
My mother’s vacant stare.
The eyes that haunted me until I fully understood who they belonged to.
A small gasp escapes my lips as the tip of my toe plunges into the water, but I don’t recoil. Instead, I sink it deeper into the tub until it touches the bottom, flattening out my foot. Veronique steadies me, and I swing the other leg over. I’m ripping off a Band-Aid , I remind myself, sitting down and scooting to the edge of the tub. Gripping the lip of the basin, my knuckles are white and tiny bumps cover every inch of me that isn’t submerged.
My stomach twists, pulse races, and visions flood my mind. Each one drags me farther beneath the water despite how still I am, clutching the frigid basin.
This was a terrible idea.
Why did I think I was ready?
My body quivers.
“Cold, right?” Evelyn asks, giving a shimmy of her shoulders above the water.
I nod, but her words remind me that the cold is no longer my enemy. It hasn’t been for months. Like the silver-white wolf that once startled me from afar, I no longer fear it. I embrace its sting and sink into the numb it brings. The cold is him . And when I think of Jax, I feel safe and loved.
Home.
“You sure you’ve never done this before?” Veronique asks, pursing her lips. “I literally screeched the first time I got halfway in.” She chuckles, and the other girls join in. “You’re doing incredible. Took me a full week to work up to a few minutes.”
“And not even a jolt or jitter.” Sara lifts her hands above her tub and claps a few times. Some of the other dancers stretching around the room look over at us, and my cheeks heat. Evelyn gives a dramatic bow of her head in my direction. “I’m in awe.”
“Someone must be cold-blooded,” Veronique teases.
I bite my lip and shrug, brushing off their words despite the questions that sink into me. “Must be.”
My hand flies up to my sternum, moving the neckline enough so I can run my fingers over the scar there. It thrums, radiating through me. With each echo of its magic, my pulse slows, calm sweeping through my limbs until the icy water’s threat begins to melt away. The memories spill from my mind, floating from the forefront of my consciousness as I think of him .
After a minute, I release my hold. My hands fall into the water and my shoulders are the only thing above its rippling surface. With each inhale and exhale, my body adjusts, first to discomfort, then a searing numb, and finally a welcoming embrace. Each lap of water, each graze of ice, wears away at the sharp and tender edges of my mind.
My fingers running through soft, silvery tufts.
The comforting weight of Jax’s wolf keeping my toes warm in the night.
His chilling gaze raking over me in the reflection.
There’s no water cold enough to counteract the warmth pooling within me.
I swallow, finally catching my breath.
Sara climbs out of the tub, and minutes later, Evelyn’s timer goes off. Once they’ve toweled off, they come over to help me stand.
“Wow,” I say, my body stinging as the warm air lashes my skin. Evelyn and Veronique each take a hand, supporting me while I get out. My legs quiver, and their grips tighten when my feet hit the ground. I’m like a newborn giraffe, stumbling a few feet with their assistance.
Sara walks over to the wall and grabs my towel, handing it to me to dry off. The three of them exchange quiet glances. I drop my gaze, scanning every inch of me that I can see, even craning my neck to try to peer at my back before I look at the three of them. “What?”
Evelyn’s eyes dart between me and her phone screen. “You know how long you just went in for?”
I shake my head. “How long?”
“Almost 15 minutes.”
“Wow.” Usually it’s recommended to work up to about five minutes when you’ve never done an ice bath before. Ten minutes isn’t impossible. It isn’t unheard of, but it’s definitely not the norm.
I’m calm. Refreshed. And I can’t help but wonder if there is some magic at play in this. Jax is still hibernating, probably after being punished for our last time together. Even with that knowledge, my heart races and my eyes dart around the room, hoping I’m wrong. That he’s somewhere here.
Everyone is talking amongst themselves. I follow the girls toward the dressing room to change into warm clothes, but I can’t help the final glance over my shoulder, full of hope only to come up empty.
No wolf. No frosty window. No soothing baritone billowing into my ear.
The only thing I find is that I’m pierced by the cleaving emptiness of missing Jax. Even though he’s away, he still manages to bolster me with the strength I need to face my fears, and it fills that hollow space with pride.