She bounced back in three months after tons of physio and with a lot of painkillers as her daily assistant.
But even if Erik was able to come back in three months… the season was over for him.
18
BROOKLYN
“This isn’t your fault,” Reece repeated because he probably thought I didn’t hear him the first time. He cupped my face with his hands and forced me to look into his eyes. “He tripped.”
Reece was supposed to be on the ice right now, but instead, he stood in front of the ice, talking to me while his team was going through some drills to warm up. His coach was furious, eyeing us every now and then, but Reece never paid him any attention.
Ilya texted me ten minutes ago to let me know that I had one week to find another partner for this season and another one to teach him the entire program. If I failed, Erik’s two broken legs didn’t just end the season for him, but for me too.
I wasn’t going to lie, a part of me hoped Erik would’ve gotten injured so I could get a new partner since Ilya advised me not to end our partnership just yet, but that didn’t mean I wanted him to break both of his legs!
One broken leg was torture for a figure skater; two were the epitome of a nightmare.
He probably needed surgery. And what if he never fullyrecovered from the fractures? His figure skating career was over.
“You should get changed,” I told Reece because I didn’t feel like continuing to talk about my misery. Or, well, listen to him talk about how I didn’t break Erik’s legs and that it wasn’t my fault.
Besides, I didn’t want Reece to get benched for his next game because of me.
Reece looked at his coach and then back to me. “No way.”
“This is important for you.”
“Let’s get some ice cream.” He reached for his hockey bag and swung it over his shoulder, then took my skates from me before interlocking a hand with mine and leading me toward the exit doors.
“Reece…”
“Don’t you ‘Reece’ me.” He let go of my hand to open the door for me, then interlaced them again once we were outside. “You’re upset, and I know you don’t want to be alone right now. You need someone to vent to about needing a new skating partner, and then someone who will help you find one so you’re not forced to quit the season. As your fiancé, I have the privilege to listen to you talk about all that while stuffing your cute little face with ice cream to make you feel better.”
I completely forgot about needing a new partner. Okay, I didn’t forget about it per se. I just didn’t bother to get my hopes up about finding someone. The season just started,ifsomeone was willing to skate with me because they were partnerless, it was going to come with a twist.
Either way, I wasn’t going to make it to the Grand Prix next year.
We sat in an extra room behind the kitchen of my father’s restaurant.
This room didn’t exist until I was ten years old, and my dad got sick of all of his friends, Mom, and Reece and I showing up to eat here. He couldn’t say no to us even if there were no tables left, which was usually the case.
The restaurant was booked for years in advance, so the only times we—okay, not me and Reece because we used to eat in the kitchen with Dad, anyway—could dine in was if someone canceled their table last minute.
Anyway, Dad then had an extra room built behind the kitchen explicitly for all of us and his staff. That way, we never had to hope for a cancellation and could come in whenever.
So now Reece and I sat in the empty room, eating ice cream. He was right, ice cream did make me feel better about the whole situation. Perhaps not the situation itself, but it distracted me for a little while. At least until I got a message from Ilya.
Ilya
Erik won’t be participating this season, even if he bounces back in a couple of weeks. His doctors are advising him to take his recovery slow to ensure he can make it back onto the ice without any problems.
Also, just a heads-up, his mother wants to sue you because she thinks you did this on purpose. I’m trying to reason with her, and even Erik told her it wasn’t your fault but she won’t budge.
Mrs. Reed insists that you’ve had it out for her for a while now? What’s that supposed to mean?
I sighed, then pushed my phone across the table so Reece could read the messages as well.
His eyes rolled before he looked back up at me. “Do you even know his mother?”
