Total pages in book: 89
Estimated words: 86878 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 434(@200wpm)___ 348(@250wpm)___ 290(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 86878 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 434(@200wpm)___ 348(@250wpm)___ 290(@300wpm)
Mom turns to me, brushing a few loose strands of hair away from my face before kissing my forehead. The gesture is so familiar and comforting, that some of the tension drains from my body.
She unpacks the subs, placing them on the desk next to the drinks. Turkey and swiss for Dad, tuna for her, and an Italian for me. The smell makes my stomach rumble, and we settle into a familiar rhythm of conversation while eating.
Dad doesn’t bring up my lack of major again, and for that, I’m grateful. The pressure to figure out my path forward weighs heavily on me. It feels like my entire life has been about skating, and now that it’s gone, I have no idea what to fill the void with.
The thought leaves me feeling empty.
Adrift.
It doesn’t take Dad long to demolish his sandwich, and soon he’s finishing off half of Mom’s as well. The casual banter shifts to hockey, with Dad detailing the upcoming schedule, and Mom talking about her new job. For a while, I let the conversation flow around me, attempting to ignore the nagging unease at the back of my mind.
The restlessness that’s been there for weeks.
Ever since Nathan resurfaced.
I still haven’t mentioned the messages to them.
The last thing I want is for Dad to fly off the handle or Mom to blame herself again. The concern that was a constant presence in her eyes has finally faded. I’m loath to do anything that will disrupt it.
I’ve stopped responding to the texts. My hope is that he’ll get bored and leave me alone. I ignore the little voice that nags at the back of my brain, reminding me it has yet to occur.
After a quick glance at my phone, I push to my feet. “I should probably head out. Thanks for lunch, Mom. We should do this more often.”
Her gaze flicks to my dad. A second or two of silent communication passes between them. I’ve seen it before. Especially after they found out about my relationship with Nathan.
A pit of unease blooms at the bottom of my belly. My gaze shifts from one to the other before narrowing. “What’s going on?”
When Dad remains silent, Mom gives him a nod of encouragement. “Tell her.”
It’s carefully that I lower myself back to my seat as my tone escalates. “Tell me what?”
Dad clears his throat before balling up his sandwich wrapper and tossing it into the trash. The way his attention stays pinned to me sends a wave of anxiety rippling through me. “Nadia Petrovic reached out to me the other day.”
My heart stutters in my chest. “Nadia Petrovic?” I echo, my voice barely above a whisper. The name alone is enough to send a shiver racing down my spine.
The woman is a legend in the figure skating world. Olympic gold medalist, world champion, and coach to some of the greatest skaters in history. I idolized her when I was younger, back when I still believed that dream could be mine.
Why would she reach out?
Especially now, after all this time?
Dad hesitates, and when he speaks, his voice is gentle. “She’s interested in training you.”
“What?” I shake my head, unable to process what he’s saying. “I don’t understand. Why would she want to do that? I haven’t skated competitively since—” I stop, the words catching in my throat.
Since everything fell apart.
Dad doesn’t flinch or look away. “I might have sent her a video of you skating recently,” he admits quietly. “And told her you were ready to make a comeback.”
My heart races as a potent concoction of anger and disbelief rushes through me. “You did what?”
Before Dad can respond, Mom steps in, her tone soft and pleading. “Honey, we didn’t want to tell you until we knew it was a real possibility. You’ve been so lost this past year, and we just hate seeing you like this. We thought… maybe this could help.”
I swallow hard, the weight of their expectations looming over me. “You should have talked to me first.”
Mom’s eyes fill with sadness, but she doesn’t back down. “We were afraid you’d say no before giving it a chance. We just want you to be happy.”
Her words hit me hard, right in the gut. I’ve been telling myself that I’m fine and don’t need skating anymore. Deep down, though, I can’t help but wonder if she’s right.
The thought of returning to that world is terrifying.
Dad’s voice drags me from the whirl of my thoughts. “Will you at least meet with Nadia and hear what she has to say?”
“I’m not in competition shape,” I whisper, my hands trembling. “I just skate for fun now. I’m not... I can’t—”
“She knows how talented you are and what you’re capable of, Ava,” Dad says, leaning forward. “She’s watched you for years. She believes in you.”
Tears burn the backs of my eyes, and I stand, desperate to escape before they fall. “I need time to think.”