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“Going on the big screen like that? It’s nerve-wracking.”
“Don’t tell me that you’re getting cold feet.” He got up and paced on the back porch of his fraternity house. In the distance, dance music thumped against the night. The blue and red lights of a cop car skipped against the corner of my vision. But despite all the distractions of a college campus, I couldn’t keep from looking at my boyfriend, as he was illuminated by the moonlight, looking like a warrior angel straight out of a medieval fresco painting. Raphael – that’s who he reminded me of. My art history professor would praise me for making the comparison because the similarity between the two was truly uncanny.
Snap!
“Jane, are you even listening to me?” He held up his hand, exasperated. “Because right now it feels like I’m talking to a brick wall.”
I frowned. “I’m sorry – I zoned out.”
“Typical,” he mumbled, as he stood with his arms crossed against his chest. “Where’s your mind at, Jane? This is the time for you to focus and yet you’re daydreaming more than ever.”
Daydreaming about you, I thought to myself. As our relationship reached its three-year mark and our graduation loomed on the horizon, I couldn’t help but think of our future together. There were so many different directions in which it could go and that kind of endless possibility excited me. It fueled my creative juices, leading me to pen some of my most beautiful works of arts. I planned to show him a portfolio on our anniversary.
“Jane.”
I jerked my head toward his voice. “Sorry, I did it again.”
“I don’t know why I bother to waste my breath,” he started to walk away but I caught up to him and pulled him back by the sleeve of his hoodie. “Jane, don’t.” He shook his head, as I leaned in for a kiss.
“Why…?” I rocked back on my heels, deflated.
“I’m not doing this,” he said, tone firm. “I’m married to the sport and I thought you were too. Nothing – and I mean nothing – is going to stop me from getting to the Olympics and representing my country. If you don’t think such an honor is worth it, then I’m afraid that you’re not worth my time.”
“What?” A knot the size of a baseball lodged itself into the back of my throat, making it incredibly hard to breathe. “You can’t be serious!”
“I am,” he said. “And you should be too but you’re not and that’s the problem.”
I got up and reached for his hand but he avoided my grasp. The look of disgust on his face felt like a backhanded blow. “So, what, you’re breaking up with me, just because I don’t want to head to the Olympics? What kind of bullshit is that?”
“It’s not bullshit, Jane. It’s called having motivation — drive.”
“This is ridiculous…” I whispered to myself. “All this time, I thought you loved me for who I was but…”
“We were going to be the ultimate power couple.”
I shook my head. “This is crazy talk.” Honestly, I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. “You’d never do this to me. The Ian I know would understand my trepidation and support me either way. The Ian I know wouldn’t treat me this way.”
“I’m sorry, Jane —”
I ran off that porch before I could hear another word. I didn’t want to listen to his excuses because I knew it would be nothing more than a mallet to the heart, shattering it to bits. My eyes were red and puffy by the time I reached my dorm room. I was thankful for the fact that my roommate was traveling for the weekend and I had the place to myself.
Heartbroken, I curled up against my pillow and tried to get the crying to stop but the tears kept on coming. It felt like the last three years of my life had been nothing but a lie. How had I fallen for it? And how had I convinced myself that Ian was the one, when all he wanted to do was use me for his own self-promotion?
Fuck, I was an idiot.
***
I blinked aside the flashback. It had been two years since the breakup and, still, that wound festered. All I had wanted was for someone to love me but Ian had proven that most men have ulterior motives. That’s why I didn’t trust them and why I had remained single since my college days. Sure, I’d have my fun here and there, but I never allowed myself to believe in a future because I knew that such a dream would only crash and burn into a fiery oblivion.
A chill pierced through my bones and it wasn’t the fault of the frigid water. This was an emotional kind of coldness that made me numb. Over the years, my heart had turned to ice and, honestly, I didn’t know if there would ever be someone capable of thawing it back to freedom.
The euphoria of being back in the water wore off. A heaviness settled into my body and threatened to weigh me down.
So, I allowed my legs to sink, preparing myself to swim back to shore. It was further away than I had hoped. All the mindless floating had taken me out quite a bit and now it would be a long trek back to the shallows. Realistically, it was nothing I couldn’t handle, but seeing as I hadn’t practiced my swimming in ages, I didn’t know whether my stamina would hold out long enough for me to make it.
There was only one way to find out.
I held my breath and started forward. The first few strokes were a bit clumsy, but after a while, I got myself all warmed up. From there, it was smooth sailing. I sliced through the water with ease, propelling my body forward with maximum efficiency. Nothing had changed. I was still as good a swimmer as I had once been.
