Page 87 of Your Sharpest Edge
I bit my lower lip. A wave of anxiety washed over me, and my arms shook. What if being on the ice reminded me of him and what he did to me that night? My heart raced so fast that I swear Alex must’ve heard it. I stared into his deep green eyes, the eyes of the man who held me when I gave birth, who never judged me when I brought over desserts that were probably inedible half the time, but mostly who gave me the safest place I could ever need.
“Okay,” I whispered, taking a few steps forward and letting him lift me up. I immediately wrapped my legs around his waist.
It wasn’t that I was scared of us falling together, but because I was scared of falling for him.
Alex skated around the rink, his movements languid and smooth while holding me tight to his chest. I rested my head in the crook of his shoulder where it met the base of his neck. The familiar feel of the ice beneath us, the gentle glide of his skates, brought a rush of memories and emotions.
The cold air brushed against my face, and I closed my eyes, feeling the rhythmic motion of Alex’s skating. It was both exhilarating and terrifying. Every glide, every turn reminded me of my past, but being in Alex’s arms gave me a sense of security I hadn’t felt in years.
As we moved together, the tension in my body slowly melted away. The ice, which once represented so much pain and loss, now felt like a place of healing. Alex’s strength and confidence grounded me.
I took a deep breath, allowing myself to fully embrace the moment.
“Do you remember the first time you skated?” Alex’s voice broke the silence, gentle and warm.
“Of course,” I replied, a small smile playing on my lips. “I was four, and I fell more times than I could count. But I loved it. I loved the freedom, the way the ice felt beneath my skates.”
He chuckled softly. “And look at you now, still as graceful as ever.”
“Yeah, on your skates.” I blushed, burying my face deeper into his shoulder. “Thank you, Alex. For everything.”
“Always,” he murmured, his voice filled with sincerity.
He set me back at the boards, propping me up like Damien had been when I first walked in, my legs dangling toward the ice. His hands stayed on my thighs, sliding between them.
“You know, Anastasia. I was thinking...” He was tall enough that we were eye level when I was sitting.
“Oh, yeah?”
“I was thinking about how we’re only as good as our sharpest edge.”
“What do you mean?” I asked as he wrapped his hands around my waist, pulling himself to me and anchoring his skates to the ice.
His lips brushed my cheeks. “When you learn to skate, you learn to use the edges of your blade. It’s hard as fuck at first to find the delicate balance to stand up, but when you do, you use your edges for power, speed, and agility.”
“Right,” I responded. “And how does that relate to... What were we even talking about?”
He huffed out a laugh, and his beautiful face relaxed. “I was saying that your situation kind of reminds me of using your edges. Sure, you can skate well and go through life, but when you reach your hand out to the one person you can rely on—or use your edges—then you realize how much strength, power, and speed you really have.”
I paused, letting his words sink in. There were so many layers to what he was saying, but the gist of it was that I wasn’t using my edges. I was skating wildly and randomly, which was why I was falling, but when I reached my hand out to him, he was there to help me learn how to stand on my own.
“If it weren’t for you, I would have still been with Dimitri, and truthfully, I don’t know if I’d be alive right now,” I responded softly.
He held onto my waist with one hand while tracing my jaw with the other, bringing me to his lips.
“I’m always here for you. I always have been.” He reached up, cupping my face. “You’re only as strong as your sharpest edge.”
Unshed tears started to form, and I tried so hard to hold them back. I felt like I was always crying around Alex. “I’m so sorry for pushing you away.”
“And I’m sorry for overwhelming you. I should have waited to talk and to figure it out instead of kissing you the moment you were free from him. It was selfish.”
“It wasn’t selfish.” I hesitated. “You were hurting, too. You also had just witnessed the trauma . You were there with me every step of the way, and then you watched me fall.”
“You were never falling, Anastasia.”
I huffed out a breath. “I was. He forced me to fall. At that moment, I was too hurt and focused on my family, and I didn’t realize I was hurting you by pushing you away.”
“And I was hurting you by pushing us together.” He pressed a soft kiss to my nose.
