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The corner of Brian’s mouth twisted cynically. “You can’t medal, and you’re broke. Maybe you need a new dream.”
Addisyn suddenly laughed. Hysterically. Was this happening to her? Was she really standing here, close to midnight on Valentine’s Day, trying to stop the man she’d considered her biggest fan and the love of her life from tossing her grandest dream in the garbage? “Thereisno Plan B, Brian. You’re my coach! Of all people, you ought to know—”
“Yeah, I know.” Brian broke in. His voice was loud again. “I know you failed at Sectionals!” He cursed, his tones rough and thick. “If you can’t even get a pewter medal, you’ve got no business thinking about Nationals.”
“Brian, I gave a wonderful performance! You said so yourself in the green room!”
“Yeah, well, what else was I supposed to tell you right then?” Brian huffed. “You were already a basket case. I thought you might just lose it on me. And let me remind you, you weren’t as wonderful as four other people in front of you!”
Ow!Addisyn flinched at the thorn prick of his jab. Tears sprang to her eyes, but Brian merely sneered at her.
“And there were things in your performance.” He glared at her, scorn curling his lip. “If I’ve told you once, I’ve told you a hundred times about under-rotating your jumps. But I’m sitting there that night, and what do I see?” He gave a bark of a laugh. “I see you out there, doing sloppy jumps like an amateur. And on the double Axel in the middle, you let too much time elapse between your landing and your triple toe.” He rolled his eyes. “That’s just the beginning. I could go on.”
The words struck her mind like summertime hail on a car roof, but they weren’t really hitting home. They couldn’t, yet. Until tonight, Addisyn had been skating on a sheet of ice three feet thick. And suddenly, with no warning, that solid, reliable ice had turned to mush beneath her feet—and she was drowning, dragged under frigid waters, sliding into the depths of an unthinkable reality.
“You just can’t make it.” Brian’s hissed condemnation seared her soul. “You’ve tried to play with the big boys. You’re not good enough.”
His words were more water filling her lungs. Black spots danced before Addisyn’s eyes. She reached behind her, gripping the chair for support, digging her fingernails into its plush fabric. “Iamgood enough.” She’d meant to yell the affirmation with power and courage, but instead, it barely trickled out.
“Face it, Addisyn.” Brian’s every word was coming straight from her darkest nightmare. “You’re sweet, you’re cute, but you’re not good enough for this job. And anyway—I can’t coach you anymore.”
A blow to the gut couldn’t have knocked the air from Addisyn more effectively. “Brian—what?”
“The money, baby.” Brian rolled his eyes. As though she were stupid for not prioritizing the financial side of this. “Look, figure skating is a business. A very lucrative and also very expensive business.”
“Brian, what are you saying?” A sob jerked from Addisyn without her permission.
Brian gave an elaborate sigh, as though he were reasoning with a stubborn child. “Don’t you realize that Rising Stars has been paying my salary? Where do you think the money comes from for me to train you, manage your career, travel with you all over the country?”
Addisyn opened her mouth to speak, but no words were ready. She hadn’t considered the monetary side of skating—not really. Beauty on the ice and perfection in competitions were her concerns, not dollars and cents. She’d known that the sponsorship was providing financial support, of course, but she’d trusted Brian with the details. Not for a gold medal would she admit now what she had always believed—that Brian had been doing everything for her because he wanted to.
Because he loved her.
So, for every moment he spent with her in a rink, every flight to a competition, every hotel room where they shared the night before a performance, his pockets were being padded with sponsorship dollars. And somehow the knowledge made her feel incomparably dirty and used, like the streetwalkers that roamed the Big Apple.
She’d drown for sure, any second now. She couldn’t keep her chin above the water much longer as she floundered helplessly, grabbing at the seemingly solid ice that had splintered into wounding shards under her.
“I’m sorry, baby, but without Rising Stars, we’re at the end of the road. It’s just not a wise financial decision for me.” Not a speck of remorse appeared in his eyes.
A wise financial decision? Really?“Brian!” A hysterical laugh snagged in Addisyn’s throat. “A—a wise financial decision? I thought we were—we had—more than that!” Angrily she swiped at the tears trickling down her cheeks. “Is that all I am to you? Just a—a ticket to big money?”
“Oh, Addisyn, of course not.” Brian huffed loudly, as though she were being completely ridiculous. “But you’ve got be reasonable. Take the job at the theater, and you still get to skate, or find another job, or something, but you’re not going to the Olympics. Period.”
Tears streamed down Addisyn’s cheeks, dripped onto the satin dress. The pain dragged scarlet claws through her soul as Brian’s words crashed inside her mind. Not going to the Olympics? “You promised to take me there! You said I was good enough—you said—”
“I did my best. It didn’t work out.Youdidn’t work out.” Brian stretched his hands over his head and picked up his coat as casually as if they’d just had a perfectly nice chat. “It’s late. I’m going to bed. You coming?”
On the heels of a conversation like the one they’d just had? Really? Addisyn laughed—a brittle, enraged laugh. “No.”
His eyes narrowed. For a moment she thought he might erupt again, but he just shrugged. “Fine.”
ADDISYN TOSSED HERiPhone onto the couch with a sigh. Still no texts or calls from Brian—and checking her phone every hour wouldn’t make them magically appear. She flopped onto the sofa beside her phone and stared around the apartment. Its emptiness made it feel unfamiliar.
Being by herself for three days had taught her how lonely she really was. Had she always been this isolated, even when Brian was there? Had his presence been a way to numb her loneliness, not cure it?
She’d spent the night of the party fuming in the living room. Sometime just before dawn, when the glow of the morning sun was rising out of the Atlantic to overpower the hectic lights of New York City, she’d fallen into an uneasy sleep right here on the couch. She’d dreamed about Avery, of all things. Dreamed of Avery furious, scolding her, listing all the reasons Addisyn’s choices had been wrong.
When she’d awakened later that morning, the silence of the apartment had seemed to shout at her. At first she’d just assumed Brian had already left for his swanky office on Thirty-seventh Street. But when she went into their bedroom and found some of his clothes and toiletries missing, she’d remembered—he’d told her earlier that week he had to leave on a business trip after Valentine’s Day and would be gone for five days. He’d been headed to Buffalo and then Harrisburg to interview some potential clients. In the heat of the argument, she’d completely forgotten.
