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Now it had been three days, and the silence had only become louder with every hour Brian was gone. He still hadn’t reached out to her once. No calls, no texts, no emails. His way of reminding her that he was still mad.
Addisyn had always accepted Brian’s temper fits before. She had been so in love with him—infatuated by him—that she dismissed his anger. Now, with the clarity born of three days of silence, she could see that fear had played into her resigned attitude—the fear that Brian would turn away from her and banish her to a loneliness that would freeze her soul. She needed him too badly to find fault with his personality. Beggars couldn’t be choosers—and when it came to his love, she was definitely a beggar.
Plus, he usually blamed her for his outbursts. She pushed his buttons, or she wasn’t training hard enough, or she didn’t understand how life worked in his upper-echelon world. And until now, she’d believed him, worn the saddle of guilt rather than be left behind.
But this? Screaming at her over leaving a party? Going behind her back to betray her dearest dreams? Even grabbing her in anger? The moment flashed in her memory like a scene from a horror movie. She could still feel the painful grip of his knuckles, still see the wild fever in his eyes. She’d never been afraid of him before, but when he’d shaken her like that, she’d thought he might lose control entirely.
Emotional discomfort was one thing, but she wasn’t going to put up with physical violence. Wasn’t that exactly why she and Avery had worked so hard to escape their dysfunctional family?
The phone vibrated in Addisyn’s hand, startling her from her thoughts. In spite of herself, a surge of hope flooded her soul. Maybe it was Brian, calling to apologize.
Instead, an unknown number flashed across the screen. Addisyn sighed. Probably some hacker or salesman.
Her thoughts drifted back to Brian. Had he always been this way? Self-centered...narcissistic...ruthless...even violent. She shook her head. It didn’t matter now. What mattered was the fact that she, Addisyn Miles, was alone. No true love...no chance...no dreams. Although she’d grown accustomed to the idea over the last few torturous days, the pain was still as incredible as anything she’d ever felt.
But she hadn’t just been sitting alone in the apartment and listening to the silence. She’d made a plan—a crazy one, but a plan all the same.
Her phone chimed. The unknown number had left a voicemail. Well, might as well check it. A few quick flicks and a man’s voice began speaking. “Uh, yes, this is Marty Moorehouse. I was just wondering if you’d had time to decide if you were interested in my offer. If so, please give me a call at this number to schedule your audition. I’m planning to open applications and begin the hiring process this week. Thank you.”
Addisyn groaned. Thank goodness she hadn’t answered the call. The thought of auditioning for a burlesque dinner theater when she’d just for all intents and purposes auditioned for the Olympic team made her feel sick.
“No, Mr. Moorehouse,” she said aloud into the empty room, “I amnotinterested in your offer.”
Nor was she interested in hanging around New York any longer. What was there for her now in the city? She was leery of Brian, her dreams were broken like delicate porcelain on a tile floor, and without Brian’s help, she was basically homeless. She needed to get out. The very air in the city felt as if it were poisoning her.
Hence her new plan.
Addisyn rose and slowly headed to the rolltop desk in the corner. If she remembered right, what she was looking for was in the top left drawer, under the stack of skating documents. Her fingers felt unsteady as she shuffled through the papers. Where was it?
She paused for a moment. Thinking—remembering—wondering. Her pulse was light and fluttering in her wrists. Once she did this, there would be no going back. Was she ready to take this big of a leap?
Maybe it would be better if she forgot about the whole thing. New York City was a pretty nice place, after all. Plenty to do—lots of opportunities. And Brian—well, maybe he would come around—maybe he would agree to coach her again—maybe—
She struggled for a moment, her mind teetering on a tightrope between two worlds. Suddenly her song from Sectionals came back to mind. Once again she was on the ice, skating her heart out.Wake Me Up...
She squared her jaw. Took a deep breath. No more maybes. No more excuses. No more mollycoddling Brian and passively accepting his bad behavior.
It was time to find that place where the part of her that lay still and dormant could wake up again. No matter how crazy the journey there seemed.
Resolutely she thrust her hand back into the drawer. And there, pushed far in the back, she felt it. The outline of a thin booklet, with a faux leather texture. Her breathing sounded loud in the quiet room. She grasped the object gently and pulled it out of the drawer, where the morning sun glittered on the gold letters emblazoned proudly on the cover.
For a moment she stared at the little object. So many hopes and dreams were crowded into it. At one time, she’d expected this treasure to take her around the world to compete for the Olympic Team. But now—now it would no longer help her pursue victory. Instead, it would be her ticket to escaping defeat.
Gently, she brushed her finger over those gold letters and studied them again.
PASSPORT.
