“No,” my voice is feeble even to my own ears. I try to gather the rest of my strength, unwilling to let him hear just how hurt I am. “I can’t believe out of everyone, it’s you who doesn’t believe me. Blood isn’t thicker than water after all. Believe what you want. That I leaked the story, that Kade is the perfect man and not a fucking cheater. That it’s all my fault. You’ll fit right in with Veronika, but I’m done.
“You know, when I first asked for your help, I didn’t think you actually would. I didn’t expect to like your wife or that town. I thought I’d come to Montana, let my shoulder heal, and leave, getting some closure in the process. But then you had to go and give me hope to finally have the family I wanted since I was ten. But this isn’t family, Wayne. This is me having to prove over and over that I’m worthy to be part of yours and Lizzie’s family. This is having my mistakes thrown in my face every time I step over some arbitrary line I have no idea has been drawn in the figurative sand. I can’t do this. I won’t live my life for someone else’s approval anymore. Been there, done that, and have the scars to prove it.”
“Montana—”
“Take care of you and your family.” My voice breaks on the word ‘family,’ knowing I’ll never be part of it. Probably never was to begin with. Not unconditionally.
I end the call and collapse on the floor. My chest is aching like I’ve never experienced before. I barely hear Dakota saying my name, asking me what’s wrong, as sobs shake my body.
I don’t feel the arms holding me tight, the soft voice whispering into my ear that everything is okay. I don’t hear the fear in Dakota’s voice when she talks to me, trying to calm me down.
All I see is the life I thought I was building falling apart. All I can feel is the pain invading every cell of my body. I’ve never felt anything like it, even during all of my mother’s abuse. This is worse because I saw Veronika’s abuse coming, but I expected different from my father. I never saw this coming.
After years of protecting myself against being hurt, it only took them two months to break down my walls and tear me wide open for their hurt to be inflicted.
I doubt they know or care that their betrayal is slowly destroying my soul.
Nothing registers around me but the pain. And it doesn’t take long for my body to shut down in exhaustion and pain.
My last thought before the blackness takes me is how I wish my instincts from the start were wrong and this trip wasn’t one of closure. But then, we don’t always get what we wish for—I learned that when I was ten. It’s time I stop forgetting that.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Three months later…
Time is a funny thing.
It’s like it enjoys taunting us, speeding up when you are having fun and slowing down when you wish for it to pass quickly.
And that’s exactly how the past three months have been. A painfully slow progression leading up to the next two weeks—the Summer Olympics.
I’ve worked toward attending for years, shed blood, sweat, and tears. And yet, as I stand at the window of my room in the building for the US delegates in the Olympic Village, I feel nothing. I feel no joy, no excitement, no nervousness thinking about what lies ahead. It’s like I’m underwater and all of my senses are muted.
Rationally, I know I should be excited and proud of myself, but ever since those phone calls in Las Vegas, nothing has sparked much of an emotion inside of me. Sometimes I wonder if I’m permanently broken. If this vast hole of nothingness will ever be filled with anything besides sadness.
Depression. A simple three syllable word my therapist has mentioned more than once during our few sessions since Vegas. I’m sure she’s right, but I don’t have time to be depressed. For the past three months, I’ve focused all my energy on attending every event possible. I’ve worked myself and my horses until I fell into bed each night exhausted, only to be awakened by the nightmares.
I’ve immersed myself in avoidance and denial.
The day after my word fell apart, I hired someone to retrieve Whisky from Wayne’s place and bring him back to Seattle. For once not caring if he made a scene. Luckily, his tendon was healed and all we had left to do was slowly ease him into exercising and competing. Something I made sure to do even while on the road competing with Silver Shine. It took some convincing with Bob to be able to take Whisky with me while traveling from one competition to another. But eventually he relented. I think, just like everyone else he could tell I was in a bad place and needed to leave my life behind for a while but wasn’t going to do so without Whisky.
Whisky himself wasn’t too happy about the arrangement either. He didn’t like he was the one on the sidelines watching me compete with Silver, but he didn’t put up too much of a fuss. I think he instinctively knew I couldn’t deal with his temper tantrums. Luckily, he progressed quicker than anticipated, and I was able to bring him with me to the Games.
I sigh and remember how me avoiding everyone for months means they have finally taken the
