Page 81 of The Breaking Pointe
“Hey, you got a package. Well, more like a gift. I think it’s from Colton. So sweet.” She smiles, pointing to the flowers on the kitchen counter as she sits on the floor with Chucky, feeding him little treats.
Flowers.Flowers gifted tome.
Smiling bright, I march to the counter and quickly swipe the small card stuffed in the bouquet of roses and hibiscus plants. Flipping it open, I read through, feeling the hair on my arms raise as I take in the first word.
“Noelle, you beautiful girl.I need you.I need you as mine.I want to talk.Maybe dinner.Public place, just how you like.If you unblock me, we can go back to how things were before. Magic. I love you.”
Love, Daniel.
The hairs on my arms immediately drop, and the giddiness I was feeling is suddenly gone completely.
FuckDaniel,andfuckhissorry-assflowers.
I’d rather not waste any more time giving men like Daniel a chance to solicit me in various ways.I’m starting to feel likeanoldragdoll.Itdoesn’tstophim,though,andatthis
point, I wouldn’t expect it to. I’m almost positive that Daniel has never felt guilt or empathy ever in his life.He has to push every limit just to see how far he can go, and now it’s turning into harassment.
Taking the flowers, I open the trashcan with my foot and remove the nice vase, tossing every flower in the trash.
“I’ll wash this when I come home,” I say out loud before going to the front door, resuming my mission.
“You don’t want flowers from the man you’re into? Little harsh, Elle,” Lauren says, watching me.
“Not harsh. I don’t like him. If they were gonna be from Colton, he would’ve come in person.Whom I’m going to meet, right now, by the way,” I say surely, serving her a quick smile as I walk out of the door.“See you later.Love you,” I say, closing it behind me.
Off tocatchmytrain.
Colton and I have seen each other on multiple occasions now, and whether it be wine and painting together in a park or simply sitting on his rooftop deck and looking at the starry nights in our city, every second with him is better than the previous.Eachtimeisachanceforhimtoshowmewhy I should continue gaining feelings for him the way that I am, and he’s successful in every endeavor.I’ve stopped leaving room for disappointment now that I’ve realized he strives for nothing short of the most preeminent outcomes and plans in his life.Someone like that is really hard to expect anything bad from.His loyalty and determination are unlikely to be disturbed, but it’s compulsive, in ways. I’ve never seen anybody worry as much as he does.
Yet he still minimizes everything he experiences and doesn’t know how tosympathize with himself inany form.
I’m petrified to bring up anything deep, but even more, I’m desperate to know why his relationship with his dad wasn’t prevalent, why he puts an ax through every conversation thatleadstodiscussinghisproblems.Bringingitupisn’t achallenge.Thechallengeisthathe’saprofessionalat deflecting and building walls around his feelings. I believe my safest route is to not push him to trauma dump while he’s experiencing what may be his biggest loss soon—his mom. I can tell that the stove is hot, and he’s standing quite close to it. I’m not evil enough to throw grease onto the fire. WhenIwasalittlegirl,Iwouldtiptoealot.Physically and metaphorically. Around my room, or around the house. Around school, or anywhere I possibly could. I took pride in being great at being quiet.When I got older and the tiptoeing wasn’t quiet enough anymore, I switched to hiding.I had to
be okay with being myself.
When being myself became a burden—or rather to Daniel—-hiding became running away.At that point, Iwas sure I was doomed. Some days were great, while others I thought couldn’t be worse. Until another day would come and show me that it could, indeed, be worse.
As of recently, the worst hasn’t shown itself.Not with Colton around.
For years, I’ve watched my mom give my dad random surprises, to simply see him smile, and wondered what the cost was to have what they have.
She would, and still does, make him lunch and bring it to his job, or lay out his clothes for the next day.Sometimes it’s as small as rubbing his back after a long day. No matter what it is, the gratitude that my dad showsher in response to loving him is what taught me what love and appreciation
is about in the first place. Maybe Colton and I lack the love trait, but I think I could nail the appreciation aspect.
Since his attack, I thought with everything occurring, and our schedules not lining up for the past week and some days, I would give him something that my dad gave me before I left Chicago.
Motivationtapes.
There’s ten of them, but they predate even me, so I hope he finds cassettes intriguing.I think the message at hand is what matters the most.And it’s that giving up is not an option. Neither is settling. He’s too sweet to settle for such a caged mindset. He’s trapped in his own mind half of the time, and I can’t list any reason why that would be a pleasant experience for anybody.
I even wonder if bringing up the idea of going to the meetings with me will help both of us.He’s seen things, too. It’s a space where he can be open about his trauma. If he went with me, I know for a fact I would be less scared.
We agreed for me to come to Trey’s studio after he finishes his work for the day. When I arrive, I almost have to control myself. After receiving Daniel’s awful gesture, I just need to look at Cole’s face and be reminded of what really matters. Me being horrible at hiding my excitement for anything, I pretty much bust through each set of double doors to enter the studio, submerging myself in the sound of an aggressive rock song playing loud enough to block out the sound of my entrance.
Some feet ahead of me is Colton, extending each arm firmly, affixing bare fists to a punching bag while his body glistens in the dim light above him.Fine as he may be, theheavinessofhisbreathingandthetoneofeachof
his movements, the air in the room oozes with enough aggression to make the moment tense.
