Page 65 of Tension
“I get it,” I say, though my throat tightens. “I just… I didn’t want him to panic.”
Greyson watches me for a moment before setting my things down on the counter. “You should call him.”
I nod, sinking onto the edge of the couch, carefully maneuvering the crutches to rest against the arm. My ankle is elevated on a stack of pillows, the swelling starting to throb beneath the compression wrap as I put the phone to my ear.
He answers on the first ring. “Vaeda? Dios mío, are you okay? Why haven’t you called me?” His voice is strained, urgent.
“I’m okay,” I say quickly. “I didn’t want to worry you.”
“Too late for that,” he snaps, then softens. “Greyson said you were hurt. At practice?”
“Paso Doble. I pushed too hard. It’s not a rupture, but it’s serious. No weight-bearing for a week. Physical therapy after Paris.”
“Paris?” His voice rises. “Vaeda, you shouldn’t even be thinking about traveling right now. Do you need me to come home? I can be on a flight tomorrow.”
My chest constricts, and I look over at Greyson, who’s pretending not to listen as he walks into the kitchen.
“No,” I whisper. “No, stay with your mother. She needs you more. I’ll be fine. Greyson’s here.” I refuse to argue with him about Paris because he knows I’m going, no matter what.
“But he’s not your husband,” Gerardo murmurs, hurt and fear mingling in every syllable. “You shouldn’t be alone like this.”
“I won’t be.”
A silence falls between us.
“What did the doctors say? Is it going to affect you long-term?”
“Not if I follow orders. Rest, therapy, and no dancing. I’m on crutches for now.”
He groans. “This should never have happened.”
“It was an accident, Ger.”
There’s another pause before he exhales. “I’ll call again tomorrow. Let me know if anything changes. And Vaeda… please be careful.”
“I will.”
“I love you.”
I end the call and set the phone aside, heart thudding like I just lied. This was the first time I haven’t told my husband I love him back, and it feels like an umbilical cord has been severed.
Greyson walks back into the living room, eyes scanning me as if checking for fractures he can’t see. “Are you sure you want to do this competition?”
I nod, even though I’m not sure of anything, because while the pain in my ankle is manageable, it’s the pain in my chest that terrifies me the most.
MATEO
The buzz of the airport surrounds us as luggage wheels drag against tile, the echo of announcements sounds from overhead, and the intermittent laughter of travelers mingle in. I stand near our gate with my carry-on slung over my shoulder, watching as our team slowly gathers in the seating area.
Adam and Kari are already there, heads bowed together over something on Adam’s phone, laughing softly like this is a vacation and not the single most important competition of our lives. Yvonne breezes in a few minutes later, her pink hoodie tucked under one arm, a coffee in the other. She beams when she sees me, looping an arm around mine.
“Ready for Paris?” she asks, her voice warm.
I nod, managing a smile I don’t fully feel. “Been ready.” But my eyes aren’t on her.
They’re scanning the terminal for the person who gives me life, who makes my heart swell and bleed at the same time. Then I see her. Vaeda moves through the sliding security doors with Greyson beside her, her face composed in that icy, unreadable way that’s become her default lately. She’s leaning heavily on the crutches, her face simmering with anger at needing any type of support. She’s favoring the injured leg, but she walks with pride. She always does. Even hurt, she makes heads turn and commands the room.
It’s been a week since I’ve really spoken to her. A week of radio silence. I texted. I called. I stopped by the studio more times than I should’ve just to catch her alone. She always had someone else in the room, always had her eyes on anyone but me. Greyson, Yvonne, the floor, or the goddamn mirrors, and I’ve played along. I’ve been polite and professional, just like she wanted, but it’s been eating me alive. Now, here we are, preparing to board a flight to Paris, and I don’t even know if she’ll be my instructor after this.
