Page 58 of Your Sharpest Edge
“Stop,” I shouted. “Stop!”
I closed my eyes as the darkness wrapped around my broken legs. “I have no fucking skills. I’m a nobody if I’m not skating. He took that away from me.”
My lungs seized as the ache behind my eyes intensified. “He brought a hockey stick, Alex. He took it from his bag and hurt me purposefully.”
I couldn’t breathe. My hands shook, and I swear my legs trembled, even though my nerves were damaged.
“I’m a nobody without skating.”
He gently cupped my face, tilting my chin up to force me to look at him. His presence was overwhelming, consuming every part of me with its warmth and intensity. It was as if he filledevery empty space inside me, leaving no room for the darkness to creep back in, yet the feelings I had for him were so intense, so all-encompassing, that they threatened to drown me.
“You are not a nobody, Anastasia. You are everything,” he whispered, his breath warm against my lips.
His words broke through the fog of despair, anchoring me in a moment of raw, undeniable connection.
Tears streamed down my face as I whispered back, “I don’t know how to do this without skating. It’s all I’ve ever known.”
“You’ll find a way,” he said, his eyes filled with unwavering conviction. “And you won’t have to do it alone. I’m here, every step of the way.”
He dipped his head down, hovering his mouth above mine.
Then he kissed me, and it felt like the world stopped. His lips were soft yet firm, moving against mine with a tenderness that made my heart ache. But as I melted into him, the kiss terrified me. The intensity of my feelings for him, combined with the overwhelming need to not be fixed by someone else, surged through me. I didn’t want someone to come in and make everything better. I needed to prove to myself that I could do it on my own.
Every touch was washing away the pain, yet, at the same time, it stirred a deep-seated fear that I was losing control. He moved his hands to my waist, holding me tightly as if he could shield me from all the hurt and sorrow.
I didn’t want the kiss to end, but I needed him to stop. When we finally pulled apart, breathless and trembling, I looked into his eyes and saw the same emotions mirrored there—love, longing, and a promise of unwavering support.
I lost it. I absolutely lost control. The shock and darkness took over as my heart raced. My head was throbbing, and I sobbed uncontrollably. “You have to leave, Alex. You have to leave,” I cried out, my voice breaking with desperation.
He shook his head, his eyes filled with pain and determination. “No. Not after that. I can’t.”
“Please, Alex.” I pleaded with him, tears streaming down my face. “I need you to leave.”
“I waited so long to do that, Anastasia. Don’t run away. Please, fuck. Don’t run.”
I looked down at my legs, and a sob wracked my entire body. “I can’t be with you. My husband tried to kill me.” I choked on the truth as it left my body.
“I can?—”
I stopped him, holding up my hand, but my heart was racing. “In one night, I lost everything.”
My hands went to my cheek as the machines in my room sounded like I was a damn robot. “I’m married to a man who left me broken and broke. I have a child I have no idea how I’ll physically or financially support. Kissing you?—”
“No.” He insisted. “No. It was perfect. At least don’t take that away from me, Anastasia.”
A tear rolled down Alex’s face, and it shattered something deep inside me. I felt itchy, desperate to escape my own skin. But leaving the relationship with a man who had tried to kill me wasn’t something I could just do. I was a broken butterfly, my wings clipped, and I wanted Alex to let me die on this branch as I was meant to.
“I’m so broken . . .” I whispered.
“Malyshka.” He tried to get closer to me, but I pushed him away.
“No. Please, Alex. Please leave me,” I begged.
“I can’t. I don’t think you understand. I’m unable to leave your side. I failed you so miserably...”
“I wasn’t going to leave him and run into your arms, Alex. I was going to do it for myself.”
“I know.” He dropped to the ground and fell to his knees so he was facing me.
