When I wake up, I have no concept of what time it is, barely realizing where I am.
“Hey.”
My head spins.
Rhys is there, sitting in the plush loveseat catty cornered to the bed. His hair is messy, like he’s been messing with it for hours, dressed in gray joggers and his Waterfell Hockey shirt.
“What time is it?” My voice sounds groggy and foreign.
He hands me a water bottle, opening it for me as he does.
“Six a.m. You managed to sleep through the night.”
Yet he doesn’t look like he slept a wink. He looks exhausted, like he got back from his game already tired and still didn’t sleep. Like he’s been sitting there, watching over me all night.
“How was your game?”
For some reason, the question seems to upset him. “I don’t want to talk about my game. What happened to your foot?”
Oh.
“I sprained it, I think. While skating.”
The stern face I rarely see from him is back in full force as he stands and crosses his arms. Like this, he towers over me. He’s so strong—so handsome. I’m almost too distracted by his beauty to realize exactly what he’s angry about.
“Overtraining, you mean. You sprained it because you were overtraining.”
Shit. Shit. Shit.
My heart hammers against my ribcage. “No. Why would you—”
“Please Sadie,” he whispers. And then, something changes as he watches me. He blows out a breath and tucks his messy hair behind his ears. “Take your time, my bathroom’s right there if you want to shower. But meet me in my mom’s office when you’re done.”
He bends and kisses my forehead hard, before leaving.
It’s quiet in Anna Koteskiy’s office.
Rhys and his father are standing, talking quietly when I enter. Anna is sitting, and she’s pulled up a chair by her computer for me.
“What’s wrong?” I ask before I can think twice about it. “Did I do something—”
“You’re not in trouble, Sadie girl,” she whispers, beckoning me again. I sit, back straight and stiff as I look only at her.
“We just want to ask you about your coach.”
“Coach Kelley?” She nods. “Oh, well, he’s been my coach since I was like, eleven maybe? He followed me here. Um, he’s helped me with my brothers before, but…” I take another breath because I don’t know what they expect me to say here.
Though, it’s clear they’re waiting on something.
Rhys breaks first. “He’s never hurt you? Overtrained you?”
I’m careful with how I choose my words. “Everything he does is because he believes in me. He can be tough, but it’s only because he loves me.”
My words only make Rhys huff out an angry sound, his arms coming around my form and waking the monitor. On it, pulled wide, is a video—a competition video from years ago. It’s four hours long, but paused somewhere in the middle.
I knew it was out there somewhere, but it wasn’t at some major competition so I’d never thought he’d find it.
But, there it is, playing for me like an endless nightmare loop. I’m fifteen, dressed in a black and red number and finishing a routine I still know like the back of my hand. I fell during my combination that was going to secure me first place and a shot at Olympic qualifiers, and I hadn’t been able to shake the anxiety, so the rest of my movements and spins were jerky, robotic, with no feeling.
It’s clear how anxious I am as I skate off, red-faced and teary towards my coach who is fuming. His hand grips the back of my neck, hard—even on the camera you can see it, as he berates me, whispering into my ear.
I hate that now, I wait for myself to pull back, to slap him or push away or throw a tantrum. Instead, I burrow into him, holding for dear life like he’s my anchor, despite the white knuckle grip he has on me beneath the warm up jacket he’s put over my shoulders. I can practically hear his words in my ears still.
You look heavy, lost your rotation.
Weak ankles aren’t something I can fix, terror. You must train harder.
It was always to be helpful, to push me—I thought. Unlike the other girls in my group, I didn’t have parents to watch and cheer me, or a retired skating family to coach me. I’d been alone until Coach Kelley found me.
“That looks normal to you?” Rhys asks, his arms crossed, anger clear across his face.
There’s no words when I open my mouth, but I gauge his parents’ reaction as I wait.
“He’s been my coach since I was eleven.” It isn’t the right thing to say, but it’s all that comes out. “He’s—he loves me, but he pushes me. That isn’t bad.”
Lies lies lies.
A hand falls to my shoulder so suddenly I flinch, watching Mr. Koteskiy pull back with a somber look on his face, apologies in his eyes. But it’s Anna who wraps me up from behind, her chin settling over the top of my head as she holds me close.
“You’ve done nothing wrong,” she whispers into my hair. “Nothing, okay? But you deserve better than this.”
“I don’t—”
“Sadie,” Rhys beckons. He’s still fuming, but his fierce expression softens as he looks at me. “You’ve got to report him.”
I can’t speak, my tongue heavy in my mouth. It isn’t until his mom grabs me in a tight hug that I even realize I’m shaking.
The tears come easily then, and Anna Koteskiy holds me until they stop.
Rhys follows me upstairs after I tuck my brothers into their temporary rooms.
“I’m not sure where I’m supposed to go,” I admit, the hopeless, lost feeling in my stomach climbing up until it tightens my throat. “I don’t—”
“Come here, Gray,” he whispers, opening his arms so I can crawl into the safe, warm space of his embrace. He just holds me there for a moment, murmuring soft words into my hair and littering kisses along my scalp and forehead.
“I’m sorry I pushed you away,” I murmur into the fabric of his shirt.
“I was never going anywhere, anyway.” He chuckles, the words serious even as he tries to pull a smile from me.
It works, like it always does.
I pull back just slightly, keeping my fists balled into the fabric of his shirt at his waist. Like I’m holding tight just in case. But if there’s anything this man has shown me, it’s that he’s not leaving.
Guilt tries to take root, and he must see it cross my face because he’s gripping my chin and angling my gaze to his before the first tear can fly free.
“I will spend every day forever reminding you how amazing and special you are. How lucky I am to have someone so brave and smart and talented and beautiful love me. I see the way you love your brothers. I know how special your kind of love is.”
He tucks my hair behind my ears and holds my entire face in the cradle of his massive palms.
“You are worth it. And if I have to fight the little demons in your mind that convince you otherwise for every day for the rest of our lives? I’ll happily do it. Do you understand?”
He waits for an answer.
“I love you,” I say instead. “I trust you. And I’m sorry I didn’t show you that sooner.”
He kisses me, soft and sweet.
“We have all the time in the world for you to make it up to me.” He smirks, all boyish and it makes my heart flip and my entire body turn to mush in his arms.
I love Rhys Koteskiy. And I’m learning that I do deserve him.
I’m never letting go of his hand again.
