by Linde, K. A.
“Sounds good,” I said as he drew me into a hug.
His lips found mine, and I debated on dragging him into an empty dressing room. But of course, we couldn’t act like high schoolers even if he made me feel young and carefree.
“I’ll see you later.” He kissed me one more time and then disappeared to locate his daughter.
I headed back to the dressing room and changed out of my tutu. Luckily, my knee had held up through the show. In fact, the day of rest seemed to have helped it more than I’d thought it would. It hadn’t been too bad during the show and I could walk just fine now.
I shouldered my dance bag and went to check my messages as I headed out of the studio. I froze on the threshold when I saw that I had five missed calls from Annabelle, the assistant to the production director for NYC Ballet as well as a few from the production director and artistic director.
My heart thudded in my chest. What the hell had happened?
I clicked the first voicemail.
“Peyton, hey, it’s Annabelle. We’re in a tight spot. Can you call me back as soon as you get this? ASAP!”
Well, shit.
I needed to call her right away and find out what had happened. This couldn’t be good. I hadn’t really heard from anyone in the month since I’d been gone—besides regular check-in stuff because we were all friends. Nothing like this kind of bombardment.
With a sigh, I hustled into my car to get out of the cold and dialed Annabelle’s number.
“Hey, this is Annabelle.”
“Annabelle, it’s Peyton. What’s going on?”
“Oh my God, Peyton, I’m so glad that you called. Disaster struck. Lauren just had an emergency appendectomy!”
“What?” I gasped. “Is she okay?”
“Yes, she’s fine. She’s going to be fine. The doctor said that they got to everything in time. She’ll make a full recovery, but she can’t be on her feet for two to four weeks.”
My eyes bugged. “That’s awful. I’m glad she’s okay, but oh my God.”
“I know. We all had a meltdown. It happened right after the show today.”
“Wow.”
“And she was supposed to dance the Sugar Plum Fairy for the rest of the week. I’ve reached out to everyone we have who’s rehearsed the role, and literally, no one is free. Could you by any chance hop on a plane and be back in New York for tomorrow’s performance?”
My mouth went dry. Tonight. They wanted me to fly out tonight? But what about Isaac’s game and the after-party and the Christmas Eve performance? Crap, what was I going to do?
The ballet was my job. It was my dream job at that. It was all I had ever wanted growing up. And now, I had it, and I’d thought that I’d be able to have everything else I’d ever wanted, too. A life. A family. But…that just wasn’t possible.
My career and life were back in New York. They weren’t here in Lubbock. This was who I had been, and it had been nice for a few weeks to think that everything could work out…go back to how they had been. But I’d just been deluding myself. There was no way this could all work out.
I wasn’t even going to get to have Christmas here with my family. That was how it was…how it would always be.
As much as I wanted it to work with Isaac, neither of us knew how it would happen. We’d been avoiding it more than we’d really discussed it. We’d “figure it out.” But what was there to figure out?
I was going back to New York. He was staying here with Aly. That was the truth. The unavoidable truth.
“Sure,” I finally said. “Yes, I can be there. I have to move some things around, but I can make it.”
“Thank God! You’re a lifesaver. I don’t know what we’d do without you,” Annabelle gushed. “Okay, I’m going to buy your ticket right this second. First class from Lubbock to New York City with a layover in Dallas. It looks like the latest flight is nine fifteen tonight. Think you can make that if you hurry?”
“Yeah. Lubbock is small. I only have to be there forty-five minutes early.”
“Ah, the joys of small towns,” Annabelle said. “I already have your frequent flyer number. This should be in your inbox in a few minutes. Thanks so much for this, Peyton.”
“Of course. It’s my job.”
“There’s a ten o’clock rehearsal to make sure that we have you all set to perform. Is there anything else you need from me?”
“No. That’s all, Annabelle. Thanks.”
“You’re the best, Peyton. See you tomorrow.”
I hung up and then rested my head on the steering wheel. I was leaving. I was flying back to New York tonight, a full five days early. No Christmas with my family. No Christmas with Isaac and Aly.
I wanted to cry, but somehow, I couldn’t even manage that. A part of me had known this was coming all along. Now, I just had to find a way to tell Isaac.
23
Isaac
“Aly, please don’t make me say it one more time. If you want to go to Daddy’s soccer game, you have to put your shoes on.”
“Fine,” she groaned and stomped back to her room.
My mom stood by with an amused look on her face. “You hated shoes, too.”
“I’m sure this is cosmic torture for how I was as a kid.”
She laughed and patted my cheek. “You’re doing just fine.”
“Thanks,” I said with a sigh. “You sure you still want to go to the game? Sutton and Jennifer said they’d watch her. Plus, Peyton will be there.”
“Bah,” she said, waving me off. “I’ll be there for you. As if I ever get tired of watching you do what you love.”
“Thanks, Mom,” I said, kissing her cheek.
The doorbell rang in that moment, and I raised my eyebrows.
“Wonder who that is.”
“I’ll go check on Aly and her shoes,” my mom said, walking toward Aly’s room as I headed for the door.
I pulled it open and was surprised to find Peyton standing in the doorway. A smile split my face, and I wrapped my arms around her. “This is a pleasant surprise. I thought we were meeting at the soccer complex.”
She frowned, backed out of the embrace, and looked down at her feet. “Isaac…”
She was in fitted black leggings, a tank top, and a cardigan. Her heavy peacoat thrown over top. Her hair was still in her tight ballet bun. She usually let it down right when she got home. But then I looked past her and saw…Piper’s blue Jeep. With Piper idling in the driver’s seat.
“What’s going on?”
“Isaac, I…I don’t think this is going to work.”
My fingers clenched the door. “What do you mean? What isn’t going to work?”
She gestured between us, swallowing hard as she met my eyes. There was torment in her irises. She didn’t want this.
“Why?” I gasped out. “Why are you saying this?”
“I got a call from New York. They need me to come home tonight. Their Sugar Plum Fairy had emergency appendix surgery, and no one else can come in to perform.”
“So…you’re going to go back to New York? There’s literally no one else?”
“No one with enough experience. Not for what the tickets cost,” she said softly.
“But you don’t want this. You don’t want to go back to New York already. We were supposed to have Christmas together. We were supposed to—”
“I know,” she forced out. “I know what we were supposed to have, Isaac. I know.”
“Then why?”
“This is my job,” she said softly, gently. “I don’t want to hurt you, and I know we said we were going to find a way…but what way is there? How could this work?”
“I don’t know,” I said, straightening. “I thought we were going to figure that out together.”
“We were. But the more I think about it, the more impossible it feels. I’m in the studio eight-plus hours a day. I have shows constantly. I’m teaching and training and performing. Not to mention, volunteer work and banquets.” Helplessly, she held her han
ds out before her. “My life is in New York. It’s not here.”
“I’m not going to stand here and tell you not to follow your dream or to give up your career for me,” I said carefully. “I didn’t do that when we were seventeen, and I’m not going to do it now. But I want you to think about this before running off and abandoning what we have.” I reached out and took her hands. “I love you, Peyton.”
Tears came to her eyes, and she drew in a ragged breath. “Isaac…”
“I love you. I’ve always loved you. I will always love you. Here. In New York. Wherever. You are the person that I want. If you don’t feel the same, then fine. Go back to New York and walk away from this.” I drew her in closer, swiping a tear from her cheek. “But if you do feel the same way, Peyton, please just give me a chance.”
She closed her eyes and let the tears fall freely. “I’m sorry, Isaac. I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be sorry. Be mine. Be here with me. Be there with me. Just be mine.” I pressed a kiss to her mouth. “I know that you love me.”
“Please don’t make this harder than it has to be.”
“I can’t make it easier on you. I don’t want you to go. I can’t imagine you walking out of my life again.”
“I know,” she whispered. She opened her big brown eyes, and I saw the resignation in them. “I don’t want to leave. I don’t want to end this. But ballet is my one true love. It’s the only thing that has always been there for me. And it’s calling me back home. So, I’m going back to New York…and I don’t think we can do this long distance. You have a daughter to think of.”
“I do. I love Aly. I want what’s best for her. And what’s best for her is me falling madly in love with you.”
“How would it even work?” she asked, swiping at her face. “You come up on weekends with your daughter? I almost never have time off. A few days here, a few days there. That’s not a life. That’s not fair to you or Aly.”
“So, it’s better to walk away from love?”
“No,” she gasped. “It’s better to face reality. The last month has been a dream, Isaac. One I never wanted to wake up from. But we’re not kids anymore, and we have to face the fact that we can’t be together when we’re two thousand miles apart!”
I stood stock-still as her words hit me. She was telling the truth. She really believed this. I’d known that she was going to go back to New York, but I’d thought she cared enough to want to at least try.
“You’re really going,” I muttered.
She nodded her head. “I am. I’m sorry.”
“And we’re just over? You can walk away this easily?”
“It’s not easy,” she whispered. “I don’t want to do this.”
“Then don’t.”
“But it’s real life, Isaac. In the fairy tale, I give up my big, fancy job, and I move back to my small town and marry my high school sweetheart,” she gushed. “In real life, I go home. And we both learn to live with the heartbreak.”
Everything went cold. Inside and out. Her words felt like she’d stabbed me in the heart.
She stepped forward, pressing one more forlorn kiss to my lips. “I do love you, Isaac. And I’m sorry that I came back…that I’m hurting you all over again.”
Then before I could reach for her and beg her to stay, she darted back down the front walk and hopped into Piper’s Jeep. They pulled away while I stood there at the front door, staring at them in shock.
It wasn’t until Aly charged back down the hallway and wrapped herself around me that I broke away. I picked her up and held her as tightly to me as I could.
“Daddy, I can’t…breathe,” she said while laughing.
“Everything all right?” my mom asked with worry creasing her forehead.
I carried Aly into the living room. “Peyton left.”
“Oh dear…back to New York?”
“Yes.”
“And you two?”
“Over.”
“Isaac…I’m sorry.”
Everyone was sorry. So sorry. But that didn’t make her any less gone.
24
Peyton
“Do you want to talk about it?” Piper asked as she drove me to the airport.
“Not really,” I whispered.
I stared out the window, brushing the tears off of my cheeks and watching the bare cotton fields pass by.
“I wish that you were staying.”
I sucked in a deep breath. My lungs hurt. My body felt brittle. What was I even supposed to say to that after what I’d done?
“Me too,” I managed to force out.
But I didn’t want to give up ballet. I couldn’t. It was ingrained in me. And I didn’t see another option.
Piper sighed and merged onto the highway. “I’m sorry about Isaac.”
“Yeah.”
“Peyton—”
“Just…don’t, Pipes, please,” I muttered, diving into my own sorrow. “It was hard enough the first time.”
Piper nodded, reaching out and taking my hand. “Everyone else understands, you know? We’ll be sad not to have you here for Christmas, but we get it.”
“Thanks.”
“I didn’t really expect you to stay anyway.”
I swallowed and choked back another sob. No one had expected me to stay. Only Isaac had hoped for it. Only I’d let him think it was possible. Even though it was never possible. Now…we were over, and I was walking away from Lubbock with another broken heart.
Piper drove her Jeep up to Departures and hopped out to pull my suitcase out of the trunk. I hoisted my dance bag over my shoulder. It hurt, knowing that I wouldn’t get to perform for the last show in Lubbock. Kathy had been completely understanding. They had an understudy in place, who was anxious to play the role. But I’d wanted to perform that final show.
“Don’t be a stranger,” Piper said, yanking me into a hug.
“Of course not. I’ll text you when I land.”
“Good. Maybe I can come up this spring when you’re in between shows. We can eat those amazing dumplings at that place we went to in Chinatown. And oh! Cuban from that place near Times Square. Also, what about that Ethiopian place?”
I held up a hand, managing a small smile. “I get it. You’re coming to see me so that you can eat.”
“What else is there to do?”
I snorted. “I’ll miss you.”
“Me too. You’re always welcome back. I have a spare room for a reason. It’s yours if you want it.”
“Thanks, Pipes,” I said, hugging her one more time before taking the suitcase out of her hand and heading into the small Lubbock airport.
I reluctantly handed the bag over and then breezed through security. My plane was already boarding. I put in earbuds to block out the world and let a T-Swift breakup song wash over me.
What was I going to do? This…this wasn’t supposed to happen. I wasn’t supposed to have fallen in love again. Not with Isaac, who was wonderful and had an amazing kid and…it just couldn’t work out. Now, my heart felt like it had been put through a shredder. And I had to go home and dance and act and pretend like everything was fine. When it wasn’t fine.
But I knew it would hurt us even more if we ripped the Band-Aid off slowly. If we tried long distance, it would never work. The flights between New York and Lubbock were outrageously expensive. Plus, there were no direct flights. It wasn’t fair to make either of us live our lives in the air. To live our lives separate but desperate to be together. We’d break down just from the impossibility of it. I’d rather leave us on a moment of pure happiness than risk destroying something across two thousand miles.
True to Annabelle’s word, I had a first-class seat that I could sleep in and took advantage of that the best that I could.
When I finally landed back at JFK, it was a freezing nineteen degrees, and I was ill-prepared for the sharp drop in temperature. Lubbock was cold but not biting.
I wrapped my peacoat tight around myself, glad that my luggage was the first out, a
nd then hailed a cab to the city. Thankfully, at three forty-five in the morning, there was miraculously little traffic, and we made it back to my apartment in record time. I paid the driver and stepped out onto the sidewalk. My gaze lingered over the dirty street and flickering lamppost and the barred gate that led up to the apartments overhead.
This was home. And it had never felt less like it.
I let myself inside and checked my mail, which still had a bunch of junk in it despite diverting it for the month to Piper’s place. Then I lugged my suitcase up the six flights of stairs since no one had bothered to install an elevator.
My apartment was thankfully untouched. The building was completely safe, but there was always that fear in the pit of my stomach that it would be ransacked when I left. It had happened to a friend or two too many when I first moved here, and I’d never been able to shake the feeling.
I closed and locked the door behind me, leaving my suitcase to deal with tomorrow. I only had about five hours before I needed to be in the studio again. Something that I normally looked forward to, but now, I just couldn’t fathom it.
Without preamble, I plopped down into my bed and stared out the one window, which looked out over a fire escape on another building. I should have fallen right asleep. My eyes were heavy with exhaustion. My body felt as if it had been run over. Except my brain wouldn’t stop. And I needed it to just stop.
“Oh God,” I gasped.
Suddenly, it felt as if I had been cracked down the middle. Split open like an autopsy that popped my ribs open to reveal all the gooey organs within.
And then I was crying. Big, racking sobs that I couldn’t hope to contain. Just pain upon pain upon pain. I lay there, completely subsumed by my own grief.
I’d thought it was hard to leave Isaac the first time.
I had been wrong.
This was much worse.
* * *
I must have fallen asleep at some point because I woke up to the sound of my alarm blaring from my phone. I startled out of bed and moved in a daze to get ready for rehearsal. There was no food in the house, but I couldn’t imagine stomaching it either.
