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She keeps looking straight ahead as she shrugs her shoulders, voice cracking as she speaks. “Fine, we’ll talk about it later. Let’s celebrate.”
The anxiety radiating from her body is almost palpable. Anastasia can’t hide when something’s bothering her, she doesn’t have a poker face. I know there is something she’s not telling me by her stiff posture, the way she won’t look at me, the way she’s chewing on her lip. Leaning over to link her hand with mine, I try to keep my voice even, “I want to know now. The guys can wait…I want to hear about your day.”
She twists in her seat to face me, bringing our linked hands to her mouth, and kissing my knuckles gently. Her blue eyes, the ones that were bright and so fucking happy earlier, are now swimming withsomethinguncertain. “Please, Nathan. I don’t want to talk about it now. Let’s have fun.”
“Why won’t you tell me?”
“Because you’re not going to like it,” she whispers. Her face softens and she exhales deeply, running a hand through her hair. “And I know how you’re going to react. It’s making me anxious to talk to you about it. I want to celebrate your win.”
She’s telling me she doesn’t want to talk about it. I can hear her loud and clear, but my gut is already telling me what she’s going to say. If I don’t confirm I’m right, I’m not going to be able to do anything tonight. “You’re moving out, aren’t you?”
She sighs and I know I’m right. “Dr. Robeska thinks it’s a good idea. We have nationals next weekend, and she thinks it’d be good for us—Aaron and I—to spend this week getting in the zone. We used to feel so in sync when we lived together, and we’ve lost that. She said even if it’s just a trial, now would be a good time to do it.”
I’m not sure which emotion to feel as the jealousy, bitterness, anger, concern, and hurt hit me all at once. “So, the doctor that he picked and he’s paying for thinks you should move back to the apartment. There’s a fucking surprise. I can’t believe you’re falling for it.”
“Don’t talk to me like I’m naïve, Nathan.”
“I’m not. I just don’t understand how you don’t see what he’s doing to you! How are you forgiving him for everything he’s done to you? All the things he’s said?”
I feel like a broken record.
“You don’t understand. You’re not even trying to understand, you just want me to shut him out and I can’t! This isn’t like hockey, Nate! There aren’t other people ready to step up and fill in. It’s me and Aaron—that’s it. I’m not forgiving and forgetting; I’m trying to rise above it and not throw my dreams away over hurt feelings.”
“Anas—”
“No, you need to listen to me for once,” she interrupts, stopping me from trying to defend myself. “Iknowthat Aaron has been a terrible friend, but it takes sacrifices to be the best. I can’t be the best without him, but you’re so fucking determined to put up this wall between me and him that you’re not listening when I tell you that I know what I’m doing. I’ve made my choice to try to fix thingsprofessionally.”
“That’s bullshit. You always have other choices, Stas. You don’t have to move out, you don’t have to go to therapy, you don’t have to do any-fucking-thing you don’t want to for that man. Why should you make sacrifices for him? He doesn’t care about you, and I think it’s funny that he hates me, and suddenly your therapist is telling you to not live with me anymore.”
“This isn’t about you, Nathan. You’re making the choice to not understand,” she says quietly. “You’re not attempting to see things from my point of view. Your sacrifice was for your team, but mine is for myself, for my future, what’s supposed to beourfuture. You need to separate Aaron the friend from Aaron the skater. You need to get this thing out of your head that I’m being manipulated because I’m not.”
I hate every single thing about this. I hate that I seem like the unreasonable one, that somehow Aaron comes out on top. I simply don’t want her spending time with him. I get that she has to for skating, even though I wish she didn’t. But her commitments are tight enough as it is without me having to share her with him. “Is he going to let you eat when you move back in with him?”
Her head drops into her hands, and the longer she doesn’t answer, the more I regret what I said. Eventually, when I’m squirming uncomfortably in my seat, she looks back up. “I’m trying very hard to be patient with you because I love you, and I know deep down you’re worried for me. But if you can’t talk to me with the same respect I talk to you, don’t talk to me at all. I have the most important competition of my skating career in one week, and I can’t be preoccupied with protecting your ego, because you think Aaron fucking Carlisle is capable of undermining how much I love you.”
I feel like a naughty kid by the time she’s done, and I can’t do anything but nod silently. She leans over the center console and presses her lips to mine, and when we eventually break apart, she rests her forehead against mine and runs her hand across my jaw softly. Everything she’s said is right, and in my head, I can admit it, but when it comes to voicing it, the words won’t leave my mouth.
Finally, I manage to say something, but it’s not the apology she deserves. “I just don’t want him to hurt you.”
She links our hands back together and brings them to her chest. I can see the hurt in her face, and I can’t even blame Aaron for it because this one is all me. “Can you please take us to celebrate now? Please, Nate. I want to enjoy tonight with you,” she pleads, voice barely above a whisper.
I put the car into drive and do as she asks, even though I don’t feel like I’ve got anything to celebrate anymore.
FORTY-FIVE | ANASTASIA
I always thoughtthat skating would be the most complicated commitment in my life.
I was wrong.
“Do you think the attitude comes with the dick or it’s something they develop over time?” Sabrina asks, shoving a spoonful of Ben and Jerry’s into her waiting mouth. Casting her eyes over to the dress we’re supposed to be altering, she frowns and shovels in another heaped spoonful. “Men are the worst.”
Sabrina is playing Angelica Schuyler in the spring production ofHamilton,and today the guy playing Marquis De Lafayette got himself on her bad side. She didn’t want to hang around the set having her dress altered, so she brought it home, knowing that I’ve been fixing and adjusting skating outfits since I was a kid.
We haven’t done anything to the dress yet, but we have watched three episodes ofCriminal Minds. I have a planner full of things to do but I just can’t face it, and I’m too drained to care about the fact I don’t care.
I can’t work out if I’m evolving or devolving.
“I think it comes with age. I don’t remember being this irritated ten years ago,” I grumble from behind my apple. “Wanna run away with me?”
