by Janae Keyes
“Don’t call me. Don’t text me, and don’t contact me in any way. I’m done with you. I-I can’t b-believed I-I fell f-for you. I can’t believe I loved you. You’re never going to change. You’re the guy everyone told me you were.”
Hearing her words tore everything inside me to shreds. I’d done that to her. I had allowed my past and my demons to dominate me and bring me down to that level of the disgusting dirt bag that had broken the heart of the most incredible girl who’d ever walked the planet. “We’re done, Max. You broke my fucking heart.”
The voicemail ended with her sobs. Torturing myself, I listened to it again and again.
I stepped out onto my balcony and dialed her number. I needed to hear her voice. She should have been at the airport waiting to board her flight. I’d never make it to San Francisco International in time to catch her, so a phone call would have to do.
My call went to straight to voicemail. I dialed her number again, and after one ring, straight to voicemail it went. Lia was denying my calls. Damn, I had to hear her voice. I had to tell her how sorry I was from the bottom of my fucking heart. I needed her.
Again, I dialed her number, just hoping she’d take my call, but she didn’t. Instead, I got the voice of her very angry mom.
“Stop calling my daughter!” she barked, clearly enraged, as she should be.
“Please, I need to—”
“You don’t need to do shit. You’ve done enough already.”
In the background I heard Lia’s soft sobs. The few pieces of my heart that were intact were breaking at hearing her cry.
“Tell her I love her,” I insisted. If anything, she needed to know that. She needed to know my heart belonged to her and to no one else.
“Just hang up,” I heard Lia say in the background.
She was a wreck and so was I. I had done this to us. I’d torn the thread that held us together.
“Max, erase her number. Don’t call her again.” The line went dead after Kamber’s final words.
“Fuck!” I shouted as I gripped my phone in my hand. Nothing ever went absolutely right in my life. Absolutely, nothing.
21
Lia
My world was turned upside down. The man I loved had betrayed me and severed my heart. I couldn’t get that scene out of my mind. Nothing, not even copious amounts of alcohol could wipe it away.
That night, I’d headed to Max’s place as planned. My tight black, one-shoulder dress covered my lacy blue underwear, a special surprise for the birthday boy. He’d just gotten back from Colorado Springs and I was anxious to be in his arms again.
When I pulled up to his house, I knew things weren’t what I expected by all of the cars parked in and around his driveway. There were guys hanging outside drinking from red cups and inside the house was a mess. Pieces of furniture had been knocked over and I could hear shouting and partying going on in the living room. I weaved my way through the partygoers until I finally saw Max. He was so drunk that he couldn’t have noticed me there watching. Hell, he couldn’t see me because his view was obstructed by the fake set of boobs of some chick rubbing in his face as she fucked him.
I couldn’t breathe as I felt my heart tear. That wasn’t the man I’d fallen in love with or the man I’d envisioned spending the rest of my life with. That man had gone far away, leaving me the helpless victim.
I was dead inside and yet I was expected to compete on the world’s stage. I lay in my hotel bed staring at a photo on my phone. It was the selfie I’d taken of Max and me together right before I left the Willows Center. The man in the photo had broken my heart and caused my tears.
“Lia, your practice slot is in fifteen minutes, so we need to get going,” my mom said breaking me from my painful memories.
I dragged myself across the room. I looked a mess. My eyes were sunken in and bloodshot. The jetlag didn’t help my situation, but I had to fight it. I was entering my final time at the World Championships and I needed to strip the funk away. Max may have broken my heart, but he hadn’t shaken my determination.
The buzzing in my hand alerted me to an incoming call. It was Max again. He’d been calling me constantly. I denied his call as I’d done all other times. Then I shoved my phone into my purse.
“He’s calling again?” my mom asked to only receive a nod in response from me. “I’m so sorry, Lia. I know that you love him and I know it hurts.”
“It more than hurts. I don’t understand. Was he pretending to be clean? Was this a game to him?” I had so many questions for him, but I knew hearing his voice would wreck me.
One day, I’d be able to ask him my questions without the crushing blow of the truth, but for the moment, I had to continue. My life didn’t stop because he and I were over. I had goals to accomplish and I would do it with or without Max on my team.
“Let’s go. I’m done talking about him.” I stood from the bed and grabbed my things.
It was the worst practice session I’d ever had. Nothing went right from the first jump on. I wasn’t a champion. I was a loser who needed to get out of my head. When on the ice, I allowed my emotions to guide me and being damaged showed. I was a disaster on ice.
The constant run-ins with reporters didn’t help. All of them asked me about Max and the video taken at his house. I wasn’t in Geneva to talk about Max. I was there to skate and win.
“This is so fucking hard,” I complained to my friend, Damian, who wouldn’t be competing. He had come to cheer on his fellow Russians and me.
“Have you talked with him?” Damian asked before he sipped his cocktail.
I shook my head. I couldn’t talk to Max. He was made of broken pieces, and I couldn’t dare unleash my hurt and anger on him. He’d done the unthinkable, but I still loved him deeply. Did I want to love him? No! I wanted to forget that love because it would erase my pain.
“I want to, but I can’t. He keeps calling, but I need to forget my pain. I need to forget it for the rest of the week. I have to win this title, I’ve worked too hard for it.” I was only a couple of days away from what I’d worked so hard for.
“Maybe calling him will help. You must have clear soul on the ice,” Damian suggested, but I couldn’t.
“Maybe.”
“Go, call now.”
“Call him now?”
“Yes.” Damian gave me a nod that sent my heart pounding.
There was a rush that only Max gave me when I thought about him. It was possible that Damian was right. I needed to clear my soul in order to perform at my best.
Standing from my chair, I reached into my purse and pulled out my cell phone. Damian grabbed my hand in a reassuring squeeze before letting it fall. I made my way toward the entrance of the small bar we occupied. The cold air hit my face the moment I opened the door and stepped outside. My hands were trembling as I held my phone and began to dial Max’s number.
The phone began to ring. Maybe he wouldn’t answer my calls after I’d denied his for so long. Yet it didn’t take long before I heard his voice. My stomach clenched at the deep and gruff voice that belonged to the man who, despite his shortcomings, held my heart.
“Hi,” I whispered, my voice weak.
“Lia, I’m so fucking sorry—”
“Don’t feed me your sorries. I didn’t call to hear you grovel and beg. I called to ask you if you and I were a game?” My voice was shaking, but I held myself together. I needed answers to my questions.
“No, Lia, we were not a game. You know I fucking love you.”
“I’m trying to believe you,” I told him.
“Believe me, Lia. None of that was supposed to happen.”
“I was never supposed to catch you, right?” I leaned back onto the brick wall of the bar, my eyes closed as I listened to his breathing, which turned into his cries.
“That’s not it. Baby girl, that wasn’t it. JC threw that party. I’d fallen asleep and woke up to a party. I don’t know. I had a few drinks and things went further than they should have. You k
now that’s not me. I just need you, baby girl.”
“No, you don’t, Max.”
“I do. I can’t breathe without you.” That’s when I heard it and knew he was either high, drunk, or both. Tears streamed down my face as I realized he had gone right back to where he’d started.
“Max, tell me. Are you high?” I waited and hoped his answer would be no, but the longer it took him to answer, the more I knew what the eventual answer would be.
“I am. I need you. I need you to fix me,” he begged.
“I can’t. That’s the thing. I can’t fix you. You have to fix yourself. I can support you, but I can’t fix you,” I told him honestly.
Max had to find it himself and fix himself. He had the resources and he needed to use them, but I couldn’t do it for him. Getting clean was something he’d have to do while standing on his own two feet.
“Just take me back. I promise, I’ll get clean again and—”
“Having me in your life isn’t going to fix you, and I can’t live in fear of what could happen because of your problem. I can’t live with an uncertain future. I think...I think we’re done for good.” Hot tears collected at my chin and dripped down. It was the only decision I knew to make despite how much I loved him. “I love you, so much. You know that I do. I’ll be around if you need me as a friend, but I can’t be your girl anymore.”
“Baby, please,” he begged.
I felt like some selfish witch. He needed help, but I knew I couldn’t give it to him. I wasn’t a therapist or a doctor. Max had to use who was available to him and I wasn’t the one. I couldn’t be.
“I’m sorry,” I choked as I ended the call. I sat on the ground, face in my hands as I cried harder than I could ever remember doing. It was really over and there would be no going back.
My mind ran a million miles a minute. I couldn’t silence the fears I had for Max. I wanted to hop on the first plane back home and find him, hold him in my arms, and tell him that everything was going to be okay. I’d get him the help he needed. Then after all of those thoughts, reality struck me. This wasn’t a fairytale, and I couldn’t save Max unless he worked to save himself. It didn’t stop the pain, though. It only amplified it.
I changed out of my pajamas and slipped from my hotel room quietly, trying not to wake my mom. I put my ear buds in and cranked up my music as I began to run through the streets of Geneva. The only thing I could actively do was run.
Was I running away from my emotions? Possibly. Was I running away from a future with Max? Maybe. There were so many things to run from and I ran, music pounding in my ears as I tried to strip away the hurt and disgust.
I saw it all of our good times in my mind. Max knew exactly how to make me smile. He knew when to encourage me when my fuel was running low. The love we had shared was one of a kind, and the passion between was so explosive that no one would ever understand.
Letting go. How could I just let him go?
I cursed under my breath as the scores were announced, but I couldn’t show exactly how disappointed I was. Every camera in the room was zoomed in on my face and I had to keep my composure when I wanted to hide in a hole and wallow in my sorrow.
When on the ice, I let my heart be the guide, and with a broken heart, the compass wasn’t functioning. I knew every bit of my routine intimately, but it didn’t come off that way. I’d stumbled over a few moves and when I landed my final Lutz, I landed on the wrong edge as I’d done before. I was able to catch it to where there wasn’t another disaster, though.
It was all too late, though because my entire routine was sloppy. I didn’t deserve to be on the world’s stage. I looked like an amateur…a failure. I was ready to pack up and go home. The confident and positive girl who Max often talked about was nowhere to be found. I’d lost her in my woe. I still had my free skating program to go, but coming back from my disaster of a short program was impossible.
“Lia, I see that face. You can come back,” my mom said in my ear as she rubbed my back.
She was trying to erase the doubts in my mind. I took a deep breath and gave a fake smile to the cameras. Couldn’t I just hide?
I lay awake, staring at the ceiling. My failure burning through me. I’d placed 4th overall. I hadn’t ever participated in a World Championship without making it on the podium except the one where I fell and was injured.
Were the Olympics worth it? Maybe, I could quietly retire and disappear into obscurity like figure skaters of the past. Like Max said to me the day we met, there would be some younger and sexier girl ready to take my place in a moment’s notice. Nobody would remember me. I’d be too distant of a memory.
At least I was in my own bed. Though, that was also the downfall. My mind only drifted to spending nights with Max in my bed. I could still feel his hands on my body and his kisses on my neck. I wondered about him until my cell phone rang.
I slid from my bed and found my phone on my dresser. Speak of the devil, it was Max. My finger went to slide across the deny button, but something inside; that voice Oprah always says to listen to, told me to accept his call. I did.
“Max, it’s late,” I said. It was just after 3AM. It wasn’t like I’d been sleeping anyway, but he didn’t know that.
“I saw you. I saw you skate. It was beautiful. You’re so good at it. I know you’re good.” He wasn’t completely making sense, just spouting off his feelings. He didn’t sound well. He was worrying me. I hated to worry about him.
“Hey, how are you feeling?” I sat on my bed.
“I’m fucked up, baby. My whole life is. It’s all fucked up. The worst of it was losing you. I didn’t deserve that love. Too fucked up to deserve it.” The pain in his voice was too real and his words scared me. I wanted to be by his side and I needed to hold him.
“Max, where are you?” I was ready to get my coat and car keys. I’d head down to his place and help him, but then my fears stopped me and held me back. I couldn’t be his superhero. He had to fix himself.
“Colorado Springs, practice,” he slurred.
He wasn’t even in the state.
“I’m sorry,” he mumbled before the line suddenly went dead.
“Max! Max, are you there?” He wasn’t. Maybe that was it. He’d said his peace and we’d go our separate ways. I prayed he’d find the help he desperately needed. My heart couldn’t take any more of it.
22
Max
Fuck all of it. I had nothing left, at least nothing that mattered. The thoughts were there and I knew what I should do, but I wasn’t going to do what I’d been told. I’d called Cynthia’s number and it went straight to voicemail. I had no other lifelines left.
Days had passed since I’d called Lia last. I’d heard her voice at least, and it was all I wanted and needed. I’d watched her performances on TV. I knew she wasn’t all there and her heart wasn’t in it. When Lia had her heart in it, she could fucking rule the rink.
I had to call her and tell her how good she was. Lia always encouraged me when I had nothing left. On the ice, I saw, she had nothing left. Hearing her voice was too much yet not enough.
Coach wasn’t impressed with my performance. I was close to getting cut from the team. My ability to function without the pills was getting worse. Then there were all those questions. I couldn’t sleep at night as those questions plagued my mind. Very few people could answer them and I sure as hell couldn’t answer them myself.
That feeling coursed through my veins, the high was so good, but it haunted me. The high had ruined it all for me. That comfort I got from it was also my downfall. I’d lost Lia to it and now I’d lost myself. I couldn’t see straight, but I saw straight enough to dial my next number. It was a number I rarely dialed, but tonight it had to be done. Answers were needed and it had to come from the camel's mouth. There were questions that I’d had since I was five years old and tonight, I would damn well get some fucking answers.
The phone ringing was melodic. It was familiar from every phone call I’d ever made
, but tonight, it held a new meaning. It was the beginning of a possible end to everything I knew and held tight.
Her voice, it was familiar and oddly comforting while it also made me want to vomit. It was the voice that belonged to the woman who pushed me from her dirty cunt, my mother.
“Who’s this?” she spat, her voice crusty from years of drug use. She barely sounded as she did even a few years ago.
“Your son,” I responded plainly.
“Oh my, Maxie boy!” she shouted with a sickening fake cheer. She probably hoped I had called to offer her money.
“Shut up, bitch,” I snapped quickly, I didn’t want to hear the bullshit that came from her collagen injected lips.
“Then why the fuck are you calling me?” she asked also quickly switching her tone of voice from the loving mom to the woman I knew as drug addicted whore.
“I need you to tell me something.”
“What do you want me to tell?” She was already annoyed with my questions, but she didn’t have a leg to stand on. She was the reason behind my problems. She could have changed my life for the better, but instead I was an addict as she was and now, Lia, the one person who meant the most to me was gone.
“Why? Why did you not believe me when I told you? Why did you let him continue? I fucking told you, but you called me a liar.” Those were the exact words I’d wanted to ask her since I was a five-year-old boy. I wanted to know why she called me a liar and why she let it continue for six more months.
“What the fuck are you talking about?” She was playing dumb. She knew exactly what I was talking about.
“I’m talking about why you let Frank do what he did to me. You knew what he was doing. You knew that he was making me go down into the basement with him. You know he was making me suck his dick. I was fucking five. When I told you, you called me a piece of shit liar. You, my fucking flesh and blood mother, didn’t believe me!”
