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“Sometimes, you’ll get everything you want in this life. But most times, you’ll have to learn to let some things go, because you can’t keep them all at once…”
My mom used to say those words to me whenever I cried about losing a competition or failing to make new friends. She’d hold me in her arms like a child and tell me to zip those phrases around my heart to protect it from disappointment.
I honestly never understood what she meant until this very moment.
Travis is standing on our hotel suite’s balcony, chatting with his assistant on the phone, demanding that he “immediately” order something for Penelope.
Penelope, Penelope, Penelope…
She’s still reigning at number one, and no matter how many hours I train or how much harder I practice, I’m beginning to doubt if I’ll ever reach that spot for myself.
My nights are filled with more anxiety and pain than usual, and I hate that I can’t talk to Travis about this.
I hate that I can’t even mention it.
Maybe I should try. Maybe he would understand.
My phone buzzes on the nightstand mid-thought, and I flip it over.
It’s Miss Price.
Sighing, I hold it up to my ear.
“Hello, Miss Price.”
“Where are you?”
“I’m still out of town,” I say. “Las Vegas.”
“With your boyfriend?”
I nod as if she can see me. “Yes.”
“I figured. Are you around a television by chance?”
“Yeah.”
“Good. Turn to the skating channel.”
I oblige and see Penelope giving an interview.
Pretty as usual, she’s standing outside an arena, and the ticker below reads, “Penelope Carter Credits Older Brother, Champion MMA Fighter, for Keeping Her Going.”
“I’m very proud of my brother,” she says. “To go from being an undefeated underground fighter to taking on so many opponents at the professional level, all while never losing and breaking records is mind-blowing.”
It really is.
“He inked a crown tattoo on his arm for me,” she says, smiling. “It’s homage to my childhood nickname, and I appreciate him always mentioning me right after he wins and inviting me to every fight to support him.”
“Does Travis ever mentionyouafter he wins, Tatiana?” Miss Price asks. “I don’t recall any tattoos on his body that are dedicated to you.”
“Our relationship is complicated.”
“I’ll bet,” she says. “Let me ask you something. If push comes to shove, who do you think he’d want to be number one in the world?”
“Miss Price, it’s—”
“He’s living his dreams, she’s living hers, and there you are, still fighting for yours, all while being his little secret,” she interrupts. “The Tatiana Brave who I know and love told me that she was determined to do whatever it took to be number one and consistently land in first place.”
