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When I couldn't find the salt, I flipped on the light and instantly felt sick. I groaned, holding my stomach, praying I didn't start vomiting. I almost dropped my cell phone.
"What was that?" he asked, worry in his voice.
"I had the lights off because of the headache, but I think I'm sensitive to the strong glare or something because this has been happening lately. When I turned the bathroom light on, it shot straight through me." I resumed looking and found it. "Got it. It says Epsom salt with soothing lavender…" My voice trailed off. I don’t remember buying this.
"Perfect. I want you to take a lukewarm bath with the salt, nothing scalding hot that will burn your skin. Turn the lights off and light some candles. Lord knows you have plenty," he mumbled.
Sadness streaked through me at that. He did know me. I did have a lot of candles around my condo, almost on every surface.
"No medicine, though?" I asked, hopeful.
"No. You need to stop relying on that stuff anyway. You take far too much and are going to destroy your organs. I told you that you looked pale—"
Before Kova could continue, he was cut off by Katja. She was shooting off in Russian and speaking a mile a minute. Her voice rose, the pitch getting higher and higher. Kova cut her off and their voices became muffled.
They were arguing like they always seemed to. I could slightly sympathize with Katja. Slightly. It was late at night and another woman was calling her husband. If it were anyone else, I could understand her issue, but I was his gymnast, so I wasn't sure why she sounded so irate. I needed help, and he had to give it to me.
My stomach knotted and I tried to focus on something other than the cramps when I caught sight of a large clump of hair on the floor. My fingers pressed into the side of the tub. There were a lot, and I wondered how I hadn't noticed them before. I reached for my hair and tunneled my fingers through it, slowly pulling until I reached the end. Opening my hand, I saw that more strands had fallen out.
A door slammed through the phone and then Kova was back. It sounded like he was putting a few cubes of ice into a glass and for some strange reason I found something intimate about it.
"You know how you looked pale on Monday?"
"Yes. I know. You told me. What would you like me to do? Wear blush?"
He sighed into the phone. "Why do you get defensive?"
"I don't get defensive. I just don't care that I look pale. I'm not trying to impress anyone anyway, so what does it matter?"
"You are not sleeping, and your body aches when it should not. You do not look well. Do not blame me for being concerned."
I changed the subject. "How long do I soak for?" I didn't look well for a reason, and we'd done this song and dance before. I was not going back to it.
"Until it gets cold."
"Hang on," I said. I grabbed my candles, lit them, then stripped my clothes off and got into the tub. "I hate baths, by the way."
"I never understood why women take them, to be honest," he said. "You are soaking in your own filth."
A sad laugh unexpectedly rolled off my lips. "That’s how I see it too. I would never take one if I didn't have to." I realized I was laughing with him and hardened my heart again.
"You put in what you have to now, even if you hate it, and you will be successful. Time, pain, your body. Your mind. It will all be worth it. One day you will wake up and ask yourself how you did it. Kak vy popali iz tochki v tochku A v tochku Z, got from point
A to point Z. You will look back and question yourself over and over, and it will baffle you because you really will not know. You will feel good that you did not give in when shit got rough. I do that now. I have no idea how the hell I accomplished what I did. I cannot answer it, it is all a blur, but what matters is that I achieved my goals. You will feel the same way one day. I do not know of any pro athlete who regrets putting in the work. The result makes it all worth it."
I swallowed, thinking about what he said. I'd already spoken to him enough and gave him too much of my time.
Softly, I said, "I'm gonna go now. I'm sorry for waking you up, and I'm sorry for Katja getting mad. I'll see you tomorrow."
"Wait."
I paused, waiting, breathing hard but slow. I should hang up.
"Bye, Coa—"
"I did not go soft on you this week." He quickly got out. "You trained exceptionally well. Better than ever before. If I felt for a second that you needed more, you should know by now that I would never hold back, regardless of what happened between us. Inside World Cup, we are coach and athlete. Nothing more. Outside those doors, we are a big fucking mess that makes no sense. If that makes me an asshole, then so be it. I do not give a fuck. We already knew I was anyway. But I know what this, gymnastics, means to you. I would never take that from you. Ever. If anything, I would only push you harder."
I heard him take a sip of something and place his glass down. We were supposed to have nothing but honesty between us from the beginning, and now I questioned every word that left his sinful lips. He pacified me with fabricated words and feelings I craved from someone who I thought cared about me.
