Breaking Skin
Page 29
“Right, um . . .” She fades out and just breathes for a second.
Worry creeps in. “Everything okay? Mom and Dad good?”
“Everything is fine, Cole. I stopped by your house today. It’s fine too. Still in the same place.”
I smile. “Good to know.”
“I called to tell you that while I was there, I saw Nikki. She was visiting next door, and she came over to give me something for you.”
Nikki. My eyes close and my chest constricts. I haven’t heard her name spoken out loud in months.
“Cole?”
I push to my feet. “Yeah?”
“It’s tickets to opening night of the ballet. She says she has a solo, thanks to you. The tickets are a token of her gratitude.”
I grip the phone tighter. Nikki got her solo. Despite the sharp pain her name evokes, I’m happy for her. But I know my sister is no fan of Nikki’s, and I’m almost afraid to ask what Lily said to her.
“When Celeste left, you told me why, but with Nikki, I couldn’t get much out of you. She was different, wasn’t she? The way you felt about her was different.”
I don’t want to talk about this. I can’t talk about it. After all this time, the wound is still too raw.
“Did you take the tickets?”
“Yes, and I think you should use them. She left two so you could bring a date.”
I rear back. “She wants me to bring a date?”
“Is there someone you’d like to take?”
I close my eyes and search for patience. “What are you playing at, Lily? You know there’s no one.”
“There’s no one because you haven’t moved on, and from the looks of it, neither has she.”
I press my forehead against my hand. It’s easier to deal with Nikki when I don’t actually have to think about her.
“I may have been wrong about her, Cole. When she gave me the tickets, she said some things about you, really beautiful things.”
Beautiful. That word always calls up images of Nikki. The last time I saw her, she was hobbling around her apartment the night Derek ran away. She was so beautiful and so damaged, it hurt to look at her.
“Would you like to know what she said?” Lily asks.
Even though Lily can’t see me, I shake my head and force myself to block out Nikki’s image. “No.”
“Cole.” She says my name in a scolding tone. “What are you afraid of?”
“I’m not afraid,” I fire back.
“What about the tickets?”
“You use them. I don’t want them.”
Gwen knocks lightly before opening the door. “I don’t mean to rush you, but we have to go soon. You’re speaking to a youth group across town in an hour.”
“Look, Lily. I have to go,” I say, glad for the interruption. “I’ll talk to you later.” Then I end the call before she can offer anything further on the subject.
Since when is Lily a fan of Nikki’s? I think about the tickets. Nikki left two so I could bring a date, and that infuriates me. I can’t shake my feelings for her, and that infuriates me too. It’s a fucking tragedy because she and I are not going to end up together, no matter what she says or how many tickets she gives me. I won’t go down that road again. I fought for her and I lost. I’m still dealing with the aftermath.
But the truth is, I didn’t fight as hard as I could have. Once I realized Nikki was saying good-bye, I argued with her, tried to change her mind, and then I gave up. I was too hurt, too blindsided. I couldn’t believe what was happening. I was angry at her and at myself for falling so hard in the first place. If Nikki wasn’t willing to fight for us, neither was I.
Not long after that, I got the news about Derek. I was losing him too.
I sink down into the chair. How much more am I expected to take? How many pieces of my heart can I lose before I don’t have enough left for the people who have stuck by me? I’m not afraid. I’m trying to protect myself, and I won’t apologize for it.
My phone dings with a text. I look down to see it’s from Lily, and I release an exasperated breath.
Lily: Please read this. You need to know what Nikki said . . .
With my jaw clenched tight and against my better judgment, I keep reading. I can’t help myself. My eyes move over the screen, taking each word in, silently reacting to the impact like a fist pummeling my chest over and over. When I finish, I glance up to see Gwen standing there staring at me.
“What?” I ask a little too sharply.
“You look like someone took you apart and didn’t put all the pieces back together right.”
I blink at how hard her words hit me, because that’s precisely how I feel.
Backstage is complete chaos. I’m brushed by voluminous costumes and bumped by bony shoulders. One of the stage assistants helps me with the headpiece for my own costume, sticking my scalp with pins in her rush to get it into place.
I’m dressed all in blue for my solo, and I take the stage in just a few minutes. The show has gone well so far. I’ve had three costume changes for my earlier dances, and this is my final outfit. Tucked into the waistband of my tights is my ribbon from Miss Emily. As much as I value my good luck charm, the real blessing of the night comes from two people sitting in the audience.
Renee and Langley are out there watching. The stage lights make it too bright for me to see them, but I know they’re there. I don’t know if Cole is in the audience, but it feels as if his eyes are on me each time I go onstage.
It’s probably just wishful thinking. Hundreds of eyes are on me. There’s no way I could feel two particular ones.
The headpiece is finally in place, just in time to hear my cue for the royal wedding scene. The other dancers form a circle and I step out into the middle with Dean, ready to begin our pas de deux.
I thought I’d shake with nerves when this time finally came, but I’m calm and confident. As I begin the dance, it feels like a dream. The spotlight shines on me and when the music plays, it flows through my body, coating each muscle. I move fluidly through the steps and as I dance, I picture Miss Emily smiling down on me, pleased that I’m feeling the music just the way she taught me, utilizing all my emotions onstage.
I think about Langley and how bright her smile is when she sees me. I feel thankful for the way my relationship with Renee has grown and is finally evolving past all the pain we’ve experienced. And then there’s Cole.
Whether he’s here tonight or not, my time with him taught me something. Just because there’s been nothing but sadness in my past, that doesn’t mean there can’t be joy in my future. Joy and sadness are two sides of the same coin. They’re both intrinsic and elemental in life, like a beating heart or a breath moving through your lungs. When the universe flips that coin, you have to deal with whatever you’re given. You have to recognize the joy when it finally comes, and you have to believe you deserve it, no matter how long the sadness has lingered.
Cole used to say that he and I were stronger together, but I had to become stronger on my own before I could pull my weight in that equation.
Applause wakes me from my reverie. The dance is finished, but tomorrow night I’ll do it again, and the night after that too. I’ll become the bluebird each night and lose myself in the dance so I can find myself again at the end.
Langley runs at me with a smile that stretches from ear to ear. The theater is emptying out, and I told the gatekeepers out front to let my family backstage.
“You were so good, Aunt Nikki!”
She crashes into me as her arms go around my waist. I laugh and squeeze her back.
“You were great, Nik. So good,” Renee says as she blinks her red-rimmed eyes. She’s been crying.
“Are you okay?”
She nods. “I’m fine. I’m just proud of you.”
I hug her tight and hope being here, watching the performance, doesn’t set her back. I don’t want to hide my accomplishments from Renee. I want to share them with her and I want her to do the same with me,
but sometimes I worry it’s too much. Her recovery is going well, but it’s a process. One that takes time.
As I release Renee, Deedee brings over her parents who traveled from San Diego to see her. I’ve met them before, and I introduce them to Langley and my sister.
After we exchange pleasantries, I turn back to Renee.
“Did you see him?” I ask. Cole’s seats were two rows behind Renee’s.
She shakes her head. “No. I’m sorry.”
I nod and brush off my disappointment. Cole didn’t come, not that I expected him to, but I hoped he would. That’s all it was when I felt his eyes on me up there onstage. A hope. A wish.
“Can you stay and get some dinner?” I ask Renee.
She glances at her watch. “We should start the drive back. I’m teaching a class in the morning, and Langley has soccer.”
I’m too happy they came to be disappointed about dinner. It’s already late for Langley. I walk them to the stage door, hug them each good-bye, and after they’re gone, I hit the showers.
Most of the girls have cleared out by now, and I spend a long time under the hot spray, decompressing, letting myself relive some moments from the night so I can savor them.
By the time I emerge, dressed in jeans with my hair loose and damp, only a few people mill around backstage, and Dean is one of them.
“We make a good team,” he says as he gives me a peck on the cheek. Dean is as all-American as they come. From a small town in Indiana, his family wanted him to take over the farm. He wanted to dance.
“Something came for you. I let the delivery guy in.” He points to an extravagant bouquet of red roses sitting on a small table by the door.
My brows rise as I take them in. “Those are for me?”
“There’s a card.” Dean winks and says good night before he leaves.
As I look at the flowers, I have a fleeting hope about who I’d like them to be from, but I don’t entertain it. It’s been too great a night. I won’t willingly open the door to disappointment.
I walk toward the bouquet and carefully withdraw the white card from the roses.
“Hi, Nikki.”
I inhale sharply. The deep, familiar voice comes from behind me, and I turn with the card clutched in my hand.
There he is, Cole, looking incredibly handsome in a dark suit with his hands pushed into his pockets. My eyes drink him in, taking note of each feature, remembering it, missing it.
He lifts his chin toward the stage door. “Your friend let me in when I told him the flowers were for you. Then he left you alone with me. He should be more careful. I could have been anyone.”
He could never be just anyone. He’ll always be the one.
My hand holding the card trembles, and I lower it so he won’t notice. “Did you see the performance?”
Cole nods. “Thank you for the tickets. I stood off to the side. Too many people recognized me. I didn’t want to draw attention away from the show.”
That must be why Renee didn’t see him in his seat. “Does that happen a lot?”
“Occasionally.” His answering smile is slightly shy and embarrassed. “You’ve seen some of the publicity going around?”
“Yes.” He’s being modest; his face is everywhere. I lick my lips nervously. “I’m glad you used the tickets.”
“Ticket,” he says. “I only used one.”
That news makes me unreasonably happy.
Cole rubs a hand over his cheek as he takes a step closer. “You could hear a pin drop in the theater during your solo. Everyone was captivated. You took my breath away, but then again, you always do.”
My cheeks grow hot and my stomach dips under the weight of my nerves. I look back at the roses on the table, so many of them and so red, the color of love.
Does he still love me? My insides tremble at the thought. Would he say such sweet things if he didn’t? Would he buy me red roses? No, I don’t think he would.
“I’m glad you came, but those flowers and this note? What do they mean?”
With one more step, Cole stands within inches of me, and the temperature in the room increases by several degrees.
“They’re a question. A foot in the door. A step in the direction of something I want but have been afraid to take.”
Afraid? I knew he was hurt, but afraid? Of me?
“Did you mean the things you said to Lily when you brought her the tickets?”
I think back to the way I rambled on about Cole to her, pouring my heart out. “I said a lot of things.”
He smiles down at me. “You said I was your soul mate.” His eyes hold mine, watching me intently.
As I answer, my eyes well with tears. “I meant it.”
His expression gentles. “You also said the tickets were a good-bye. How do you say good-bye to your soul mate, Nikki?”
I hold back a sob. “You only say it when you have no choice.”
“What if you did have a choice?”
His question gives me hope as I look up at him through a sheen of tears.
“I haven’t moved on,” he says. “I was staying away because I didn’t want to get my heart broken again. But being without you because I don’t want to lose you makes no sense. Being with you is the only thing that makes any sense. It makes perfect sense because you’re my soul mate too. I love you, Nikki. I don’t want you to say good-bye to me.”
My hand goes to my mouth to stifle the sob I can’t hold back anymore.
Cole pulls me against him and wraps his arms around me. I tremble as I close my eyes and breathe him in. His chest rises and falls beneath my cheek, and I hear his heart pounding. After a moment, he pulls back to look at me.
“I love you too,” I say, still crying, a complete and utter mess.
It’s the first time I’ve said those words to Cole, and the biggest, most beautiful grin appears on his face. It lights up his eyes, making them crinkle at the edges.
He frames my face with his hands and places a raw, needy kiss on my lips. I kiss him back with the same fervor, overwhelmed by emotion. I’ve dreamed of this moment, wished for it, and my wishes rarely come true.
Until today. Today is different. Today is special.
For the longest time, we stand there and hold each other, locked in a perfectly blissful moment that neither of us wants to end. The stage door opens and closes, but we don’t move, not until the janitor arrives with his bucket and mop.
Then I take my flowers, my bag, and my man home with me.
All the people I love came to watch me last season in my first solo performance in Sleeping Beauty, and they’re here again to see me in Onegin. I have more than a solo in this ballet. I have an actual part, playing Olga, the main character’s sister.
This production has a lot of moving parts and I have over a dozen cues to remember, but on opening night, the show goes off without a hitch. When the final scene comes to an end, the energy onstage is electric. We all know it went well. There’s a current that ripples through the air when everything is clicking, and that current is strong tonight.
When reviews appear in the papers tomorrow, I have a feeling everyone is going to be pleased. For the first time, my role is large enough to earn a sentence or two. Just the thought of my dancing being reviewed is enough to send nerves skittering through my veins.
Before the stage lights dim and the curtain closes for the night, I catch sight of Langley, Renee, Derek, and Cole in the audience as they push to their feet and applaud. A smile lights my face and my heart swells with happiness for a moment I never believed would happen.
The old Nikki would be on tenterhooks, waiting for the other shoe to drop, but the person here on this stage tonight refuses to do that. I no longer worry about a fatal flaw lurking in the distance or a dark chasm opening beneath me. This happiness has no caveat. It was hard-earned by all of us.
Normally the curtain would drop now and the house lights would come up, but the theater remains dim, and I share a look with Dean who stands beside me.
It seems as if an announcement is coming, although we weren’t informed in advance. This happens on occasion when the ballet receives a large donation or if there’s a new, very important board member who requested an acknowledgment from the dancers. We’re supposed to remain onstage and bow to the generous benefactor with deep pockets and a love of dance.
There’s enough light for me to see into the first few rows of the theater, and I feel strangely exposed standing onstage as myself and not as a character. I look at my family again and see Langley bouncing excitedly in her seat as Renee catches my eye and smiles.
Sitting behind Langley and Renee are Cole’s sister, Lily, and her husband, Jon. Their older kids are with them but they left the baby at home with Cole’s parents.
Derek is here too. Cole managed to get him for the weekend, and for once Celeste didn’t give him any trouble about it. She’s battling an image problem at the moment.
Sports Illustrated did a story on Cole last year and Celeste did not come off well. It was a heartbreaking article about Cole’s brain injury causing him to retire early from hockey, lose his marriage, and then lose custody of his son. The gossip columns picked up the story and painted Celeste as cold and callous. I know Cole feels guilty about it, but he only told the reporter the facts. If those facts portray Celeste in a certain light, it’s not his fault.
My gaze moves to the seat beside Derek where Cole should be, but it’s empty. I wonder if his many fans prevented him from sitting in his seat again, and I look around the theater, scan up and down the aisles, but there’s no sign of him. Whatever is about to happen, he’s going to miss it.
Nadia walks out of the shadows from stage right and glances at me briefly before she looks back over her shoulder. I blink in her direction as my curiosity piques, wondering why she sought me out.
Low whispers spread among the dancers as a tall figure emerges from the darkness behind Nadia. My brow wrinkles in confusion when Cole walks onstage in my direction.