Page 82 of Your Sharpest Edge
“When I was giving you a play-by-play, I didn’t realize I’d be tested on it the next morning.”
“Ugh,” Alina said, throwing up her hands as if she was giving up. “You told me he said he wasn’t going to go away this time. No matter what, right?”
“Yeah...” I wasn’t sure how this was all connected to the fact that Damien was sick. “I really need to figure out what I’m going to do for work, Alina.”
“I know, which is why you’re not going to hate me when I do this.” She dialed a number in my phone before putting it on speakerphone, and I watched as it rang.
“Who did you call? My boss?” I shot off the couch and went over to see, but she held the phone tightly in her hand, jumping up and down frantically as I tried to reach it. My blonde hair was wild around my frame, and as I tried to grab my phone, she dodged me and ran into the kitchen.
It was ringing once . . . twice . . .
“Who did you call?” I yelled as I ran after her. “You’re shorter than me.”
She kept jumping wildly and laughed. “I promise this is for your own good. Please don’t hate me.”
I finally snatched the phone from her as a smooth, velvet voice came from the other end of the line.
“Anastasia?”
I looked over at Alina, covered the speaker part of the phone, and mouthed. “I am going to fucking kill you.”
Alina only smiled and stifled her laugh.
I moved away from her and took a deep breath. “Hi, Alex. Sorry, I think I may have dialed you by accident.”
There was a pause on the line, and Alina’s face fell, shooting me a pointed “you really should just tell him” look.
“He has work,” I mouthed to her.
“Oh.” Alex sounded defeated. “Okay, then. Well . . .”
Fuck it. I needed this more than anything, and his words came pouring back to me.
“I’ll always be here for you.”
Why was it so hard for me to accept that people could be there to help me? Why did my ex-husband have to fuck me up so badly that there was nothing else there for me and that I trusted no one. I wanted to experience all these wild and grand things, but I was too scared to even ask for help.
So maybe this was my first opportunity. Maybe this was the universe’s way of saying, “Here you go, try it out because for a long time, you trusted him with everything, and he showed youthat if anything, he was always true to his word. He was always there for you, even when you pushed him away.”
“Wait, Alex.” I finally managed to say through a few choked coughs.
“Yeah?”
“Um, what time did you say your press thing was today?”
I still refused to google him, even though I had an urge to last night. Truthfully, I’d deactivated my social media because I was tired of hearing what people were saying about me, both good and bad. It was all so overwhelming, so I did what I did best: I pushed people away.
“I have a couple of interviews later this afternoon.”
My heart sank.
It wasn’t Alex’s fault—none of this was—but it was exhausting trying to do everything on my own. There were so many days I thought about giving up, about going back to Moscow, where my mom could still help me. But that same thought was also what kept me here, pushing forward. I needed to prove to myself that I wasn’t weak, that I could stand on my own and keep moving, no matter what tried to hold me back.
“Oh, okay. No problem?—”
“Why?” he asked hastily. “Is something wrong?”
“I, uh, it’s Damien.”
