“Then what is it? It’s not like you to back out of responsibilities and commitments.”
“It’s…” The knuckles of her other hand turn white on her knee. I reach over and smooth my fingers over those too. She glances up quickly, her eyes watery and terrified. Yes, that’s what it is. Pure terror in her gaze, and for the first time I start to understand the monstrosity of what she faces. More accurately, that I don’t understand. Can’t, really. I don’t think anyone can.
“I got your back, no matter what,” I whisper to her. Genevieve’s lip quivers as she leans into me. I wrap my arm around her shoulder and pull her to my side. Resting my lips on her hair, I wait along with Sam for the verdict.
“I’m… It’s all fine, Sam. Everything’s fine. Just been stressed lately,” she says. I hear the forced brightness in her tone and sense Sam does as well. Her manager doesn’t look relieved at all as she studies her client for another moment.
“Okay,” she says finally. “Well, if it’s ever not-fine, you call me immediately, okay? I want to help you, Gen, but you have to let me.”
“I will. Bye, Sam. And thanks.” Genevieve hangs up and releases a heavy sigh. “I know, okay? Don’t say anything.”
“You know what?” I ask, curious because I’m not sure I do. My shirt feels wet, and when I look down there’s a distinct patch where her eyes rest against me. “What is it you know, Genevieve?” I repeat softly.
Her arms tighten around me, her head burrowing into my chest as she holds on. “Oliver…” My name is so broken on her lips. I squeeze harder, wanting to fix it all, furious that I can’t. It seems like my entire life right now is a series of battles I can fight but never win. My knee. Gen’s soul. Every day I get up, push through the pain, follow the protocol, do everything I’m supposed to do, for what? So my knee can mock me with the same brutal routine again and again and again. So tabloids can twist the grueling battle I face with one bogus misrepresentation.
And suddenly, maybe I do get it. I’m fighting my knee because one day I will wake up and the doctor will clear me to get back on the ice. One day I’ll stand in net again, diving for a puck or digging one out beside the post. One day there will be a breakaway with ten seconds left, and I’ll make a save that will embed itself in my mind for the rest of my life. I will feel the euphoria of the game again. I work through hell every day to reach toward a goal that’s more than worth the pain. What must it be like to work through hell for nothing? To fight toward a future you don’t want and maintain a universe that’s crushing you? That’s Genevieve’s fight. She battles through rehab every day of her life with no hope of ever fixing what’s broken.
“Oliver?”
God, she breaks my heart. Doesn’t she see how much she needs a breakaway? To just let herself fall?
“Yeah?”
“I don’t want to be Genevieve Fox anymore.”
CHAPTER 12
She holds the trigger with reverent bliss
Caressing the end of her
the death of her
the test of her
Until through the mist
Of endless tears
Insincere years
She presses down to expose
Not a blast
But a path
GENEVIEVE
I said it. Uttering that monumental truth should have triggered apocalyptic fires and discordant trumpet blasts, but if anything, I just feel relieved. And Oliver? Smiles. Yep, he’s actually smiling when I look up into those warm brown eyes.
“Why do you look happy?” I ask, suspiciously.
Oliver shakes his head. “I’m not happy. Just smiling.”
“Smiling means you’re happy. You want your new girlfriend to be the disgrace of the century?”
He huffs a dry laugh. “Disgrace of the century? Seems a bit extreme.”
“I just said I don’t want to be Genevieve Fox.”
“Yeah, you were finally honest with yourself. And I’m smiling because you’re smiling.”
I still in his arms. Test my lips. Oh my gosh. I am. My smile widens. “I shouldn’t be smiling. This is catastrophic.”
He shrugs. “Is it? Let’s go upstairs and see how many newborn kittens died and nuclear bombs detonated because you decided you’d rather not sing some stuff anymore.”
I snort a laugh and swat his chest. “Yeah? And is that how you felt when you realized your knee was busted and you were about to lose everything?”
His smile falters. “No, but I lost something I loved. Something I wanted more than anything and had worked my entire life to achieve. What are you losing, Genevieve?”
“Something I’m not sure I ever wanted,” I breathe without thinking. More truth. Oliver seems to draw it from me like poison from a venomous bite. Is that how healing works? The first step over the cliff to the ground. Decide you’re ready to fall. “I feel so strange. Terrified, and yet free.”
His smile returns. “That sounds about right. You decided you want to jump. Now we just figure out how.”
“You make it sound so easy,” I mutter.
“As easy as working my way back through a major injury? We’re both on the same journey, Genevieve. The difference is I’m taking the pain for something I want. After the fall, you’re going to face a shitstorm of a climb. Wouldn’t you rather it be for a prize that’s worth it? What’s at the top of the mountain for you? What makes you happy, Gen?”
This moment.
That smile.
Those eyes.
“You.” I glance up into his beautiful, strong face. He smiles back, and I trace his lips, still in disbelief he came into my life when I needed him most. Or is he the reason my long-brewing battle has finally come into focus? It can’t be a coincidence that Oliver met a girl afraid of mirrors and now sits beside
