Page 121 of Revolve
The word stings. “My body betrayed me. My brain betrayed me. And now I have to work twice as hard to be half as good. Meanwhile, Justin moved on. Maybe he was right to leave. Maybe I was too much.”
She tilts her head. “You say your body betrayed you. That your brain betrayed you. But think about that for a second. You suffered a traumatic injury, and yet, here you are. You’re skating again. Competing again. In a loving relationship. Living your life.”
“Barely,” I murmur.
“No,” she says, firmer now. “Notbarely. You made the decision to train again. To push through the fear. If anything, your body and brain have been workingforyou, not against you.”
I frown. “It doesn’t feel like that. My body locks up when I don’t want it to. My brain sends me into spirals I can’t stop.”
“But would you say it’s gotten easier? Recognizing the triggers?”
I hesitate. “Yeah. I barely notice some of the ones that used to give me panic attacks.”
“Yet you talk about your brain and body like they’re separate fromyou—like they’re against you. They’re not trying to hurt you. They just don’t always know what’s safe until you allow yourself to believe it.”
Something heavy settles in my chest.
“You don’t need to fight yourself,” she continues. “You need to tell your brain and body that you’re safe now. That stepping on the ice isn’t the same as falling. That letting Dylan in isn’t the same as being abandoned. That trusting yourself won’t always lead to pain.”
I exhale, slow and shaky. The rest of the session makes me confront everything I’ve shoved down for months. She tells me to restart my old journal, just to see the contrast in what I may write now. When Scarlett picks me up after, I know I’m not magically fixed. But for the first time in a long time, I think maybe I don’t have to be. Maybe I just need to trust that I can be okay.
Sierra:I miss you too, Dylan.
FORTY-THREE
DYLAN
I’VE NEVER HADa girlfriend before, but it’s been three days without her, and I feel like I can’t breathe. She said it’s not a breakup, but it damn near feels like one. Now I understand why people reconnect with nature after getting dumped. I’ve been on two hikes with Summer, who went easy on me this time because she felt bad.
But even if Sierra had wanted to break up, I’d never let her do it so easily. Especially over something like this. She stays behind the wall of her past like it’ll keep her safe, but she doesn’t know that I’d break through anything to get to her. It’s us or nothing, and I don’t give a fuck if that sounds possessive. She’s mine, every goddamn inch of her.
If she wants to be.
In the spirit of taking things slow, I dropped an entire box of Reese’s peanut butter cups; aTangledLego flower; and a framed, signed picture of me and Dale Thunderman. Yeah, I chased the man down.
Kian and I went to the news station yesterday and waited six hours to see him. I promised Kian that we’d visit the animal shelter after to find him a cat. When we finally arrived, Dale Thundermanwas all styled hair, gleaming white teeth, and a voice I’m sure would narrate one of Summer’s romance novels. Is that why Sierra watches him? Am I jealous of a middle-aged weatherman? Much to my dismay, the man was charming as hell. When I told him my girlfriend is a fan, he said he gets that all the time and happily took a picture. I’m pretty sure Kian has a crush on him now. That’s why he got a picture for himself and then asked to record a video.
I don’t know if Sierra’s seen it yet, because she texted that she was going to her parents’ house. It took everything in me not to drive straight there, but her mom texted that she was okay.
On top of all that, tonight is the vow renewal. The tuxedo my dad delivered during his visit lies on my bed, patiently awaiting my decision.
My hair is still damp from the shower, so I run a towel through it. It’s long now, curling at the ends even as I try to push it back. The length reminds me of my dad’s. My mom would joke about it being the perfect leash and he’d bow his head to her level, gladly letting her lead the way to whatever corner of the house she wanted him to fix something in. If I wasn’t so jaded, I’d probably still believe that he built my mom our first house with his bare hands. The same house I grew up in, the one with Kian’s and my heights tacked onto the bedroom door frame.
A reminder chimes on my phone that sits on the bedside table, breaking through my thoughts. I still haven’t answered the text from Ada asking me if I changed my mind about tonight. I stand there, trapped in indecision, staring at my reflection in the full-length mirror. My mom’s words echo in my mind, giving me the final push I need. Just as I button the crisp white shirt, a knock sounds at my door.
“Yeah?”
Kian peeks in first, his eyes sweeping the room before he pushes the door open. Aiden and Summer trail behind, dressed in their best clothes for the event but carrying an air of uncertainty. My friendsdon’t say a word as they step inside. The three of them settle onto the edge of my bed, their figures reflected in the mirror.
“It’s not a funeral,” I say.
“It isn’t fair that you have to go after everything he’s put you guys through,” Kian replies, loosening his tie with a restless hand, his eyes flicking to his phone for the third time.
“It’s fine. I’m going for my mom.” My voice wavers, betraying my uncertainty. Being there might only weigh heavier on my mom’s already fragile heart because I know I won’t be able to mask what I’m thinking.
When my parents sent out the invitations, it didn’t take long for my friends to figure out why I’d been in such a dark mood. I had told my dad not to make this a big deal, but of course, Darragh Donovan doesn’t do anything small. Especially when what he’s trying to keep hidden is so much bigger.
“You can still bail. We’ll do something else,” Aiden says, his voice careful. He’s giving me an out I won’t allow myself to take.
