Page 68 of The Breaking Pointe
himself.
“You’re lying to me, Noelle. You’re even walking around with a different stride now!Don’t lie to me—I don’t like liars!” he belts, holding me against the desk harder, assur- ing I stay put.
Taking one hand away, he looks beside me, placing it on an old music box.
My cherished music box.
I attempt to shift my body, but it’s useless.As if I could move with a two-hundred-pound man on top of me.
Buckets of tears are welling up in my eyes that I can no longer hold back. Abandoning his yelling crusade, his voice becomes quiet again, almost a grave whisper.
“What am I saying…” His anger flips like a coin, revealing a sudden enthusiasm in my fear. He raises a hand to my hair, now caressing it, dragging his rough skin along mine.“Is that you couldn’t find another man to give you his attention, even if you were the last woman on Earth.”
Finally, he frees me, sending my body almost limp, picking up the music box as he steps away.
“Look at you…” He takes a step back,shaking his headasifindisapprovalofmyveryexistence.“He’sgonna get sick of your ass—sick of this ballet bullshit and allyour emotional breakdowns about you being so disgustingly insecure. You’re clearly letting yourself go.”
“Please, just give me my box…” I whimper, struggling to sit up.
His head shaking turns into nodding. “You want it back?” He smiles. “Here.”
He holds it out for me as I extend my arm.
BeforeIcanreachit,heliftstheboxabovehisheadand
throws it down at the floor with what looks to be all his power, smashing it into pieces.
“No!” I scream, crashing to the floor with it as he laughs above me.
“Maybe you’ll listen next time. Right, Noelle?” he mocks, pleased with himself.
There is nothing for me to add.I’m scared of him going further, of him being right about Colton getting fed up with me, and it’s like a million daggers right to the heart to be told it by him.He showed me how stupid I was to think I could get away from him. I’m still trapped under his thumb, no matter what I do. He will leave me alone, and because of that I have to remember this as I look down at my precious music box, smashed into a billion pieces.
I bury my face deep into my arms, the strain shooting up my backside from the force of my body hitting the desk, my arms burning like hell as I do.
“You might as well just let him go, now, Elle.I’ll be waiting for you to call me, and I know you will.‘Cause he ain’t me.”
Seconds after, he walks out the office door, and I hear him finally leave the studio.
All my tears are now miniature waterfalls, rushing down my cheeks as I push myself up from the floor and drag myself to my desk, throwing myself down into my chair. I stare at the small music box that was once put together by red wood with my initials carved into it.Taking the deepest of breaths, I play the audibly dated melody in my head.
“You’re strong. Not weak. Smart, and not stupid.” My words rush into each other, interrupted with sniffles and whimpers. “Good, and worthy.”
This music box was my therapy.It’s a piece of my parents
that I never got rid of. And even though Daniel tried to take that from me, he failed. Even though I’ve been trying to fix it for years now, I couldn’t seem to do anything to make it sound or play the way it once did when I was a child.It’s damaged, just like me.
That’swhyIloveit.
“Noelle?” Lauren enters the room with a soothing aura, knocking on the door, jumping back as she sees the mess.
I nearly jump from my seat, still shaken from what hap- pened. I quickly gather myself, stopping the music box as I grip it tightly.
“Are you crying? What the hell happened in here?” Her face distorts to a more concerned expression as she rushes over to me.
“I’m fine.”I smile, wiping my face.“I just got upset.I dropped my music box.” I give her an automatic response. She stares at me, not believing me at all.But instead of askingfurther,shelooksdownforamoment,bitingher
tongue.
