Page 20 of Surrender
“You.”
“I don’t—”
“This house is for sale,” Lucy blurted out, her body frozen and her eyes wide as she waited anxiously for my response.
I blinked. “Wait… what?”
“For sale,” she repeated, this time a lot slower. “As in, you could buy it. Own it. Move back to Detroit. And we could—”
“Lucy…”
“Run the dance studio together,” she finished. The smile on her face was so wide and hopeful, I couldn’t help but feel my own start to grow, despite the way my stomach was twisting with nerves.
While Lucy and I lived together in New York, the dance worlds that we were a part of couldn’t have been more different. Because of her bold and vibrant personality, she needed the energy and excitement of jazz and stage shows, both on and off Broadway. In contrast, I preferred things slow, planned, and methodical.
Chaos had already stolen enough from me, so I found beauty and comfort in the structure of ballet.
“Darcy, think about it,” Lucy groaned when I didn’t immediately reply. “I have girlsdyingto have someone like you teach them. Someone who’s been there, done that, got the T-shirt.”
I let out a breathy laugh, shocked I hadn’t already argued all the reasons why I couldn’t do it.
Why I couldn’t buy the house.
Or move back to the place I grew up in.
And start a business!
I waved my hand around, pointing at the faded wallpaper and the dust-covered window sills. “This place is a time capsule of all my worst memories, Lucy.”
Her expression softened. “And some of your best ones too.”
“Don’t even…” I warned with a pointed finger, but if anyone was ready to challenge me with my emotions, it was the person who’d witnessed them all.
“Nate’s still around, you know.” She dropped the comment like it was a grenade, her face scrunching up, bracing for the fallout. I thought I’d buried that part of me, but hearing his name catapulted me straight back into a past I wanted to forget.
He made me a promise that day.
And he didn’t keep it.
I called that betrayal.
My therapist called it excessive dependence and told me‘I shouldn’t expect one person to be my emotional duct tape.’It was a neat way of shifting responsibility back to me, but it didn’t make it hurt any less.
“He’s part of the local motorcycle club,” she continued, leaning back against the window frame, arms crossed, looking irritatingly pleased with herself. “They own a bar and a boxing gym across from the studio. I’m sure he’d love to see you just as badly as Iknowyou would like to see him.”
A bitter laugh fell from my mouth, and I hoped like hell it covered the visceral shudder that shot up my spine at the sound of his name. “I’d rather bathe my blisters in salt.”
It was hard to imagine how just the thought of someone I hadn’t seen in more than ten years could still have the same impact on my body and emotions. I’d spent years trying not to think about it.About him.About the way my world had been shattered into a million pieces when I lost my brother, only for Nate to walk away and leave me holding the shards in my hands.
How did one even approach that in a conversation?
Hey, long time no see.
Check out these emotional scars I have.
You want to know which ones I got from you?
“Lucy, I have a life in New York, I don’t know if I can—”
