Chapter 54: Chapter 54

We disembarked at the airport and Anna accompanies me to the bathroom while Andy retrieves our luggage. We are to meet back at the gates. Anna grabs my arm and leads me to a cluster of people; I assume they are here to welcome her and Andy back from their honeymoon. I see Lara, Jeremy, Johnson, and oh my god mom and Aunt Grace! I run to Mom's open arms. It feels so good to be in them. Then Lara, Jeremy, and Johnson encircle us hugging me. They are here to see me. It’s the first time since Scott broke up with me that I didn’t wish myself dead.

Mom is speaking over my head to Aunt Grace about me like I’m not even there, and I’m not, “She looks horrible, the poor thing. First, she loses her father, and then as if that’s not enough Scott breaks up with her over his stupid insecurities. You should hear the story the kids told me Grace it’s enough to piss anyone off. He kept her hanging for months. Look at the black circles around her eyes!”

“She’s so slender looking, almost frail,” Aunt Grace commented in a worried tone.

“Come on kids, let’s take her to the car,” Mom says leading us to the drop-off and pick-up area of the airport.

I look at mom, “Where are the two of you staying?”

“Scott’s mother graciously invited us when we found out about your hospitalization in Honolulu. She’s been very supportive.”

“I guess so,” Aunt Grace said snidely. “Her son caused it.”

If only mom knew what I know about Deborah. She would never stay under the same roof.

“How long are you staying?” I ask.

“Until you are better dear. Deborah says we can stay as long as we like.”

A black Mercedes pulls up to where we are standing. I squint to see who’s driving, it’s Scott. My heart pounds through my chest. Rule number six flashes before my eyes, ‘Don’t let him know you are hurting.’ I might as well climb Mount Everest because there’s no way I will be able to keep that rule. Anna, Andy, Johnson, Lara, and Jeremy give me another hug. Their support is touching. They are the ones getting me through this.

The trunk pops open and Andy puts my suitcase in the back of Scott’s car.

Mom helps me into the front seat but makes no motion to get in, “Aren’t you coming?”

“No dear, he wants to talk to you alone. Jeremy and Lara said they will drive us back to Deborah’s. You go on and work things out.”

Mom leans into the car and kisses me goodbye before closing the door. I stare out the window at mom and my friends as Scott pulls out onto the street. When they were no longer in sight I face forwards and close my eyes. I can feel his presence next to me shutting everything else out. Then I sniff quietly to catch the subtle scent of his perfume. He smells so good. It's like he can warm the blood flowing through my veins.

I open my eyes, studying his profile, I want to memorize it. His hair is cut shorter than I’ve ever seen it and his beautiful brown eyes look like they are made of liquid chocolate. His lips appear so plush, they are screaming for my fingers to touch them. With nothing more to lose, I reach out and touch his bottom lip lowering it just enough to wet my fingertips in his mouth, and then I bring them to my mouth and suck. His eyes widen. He pulls over the first chance he can and turns off the car. Now we are sitting in silence and I look forward because I don’t think I can maintain any type of eye contact with him, and he stares at me. I can feel it. I shudder to think what he is thinking about. He touches a lock of my hair and more to himself than to me he says, “I did this to you?”

“Don’t flatter yourself.” I say courageously, “Where are you taking me?” “You need to see your dad.”

“I don’t, I feel no need at all. He let me down.”

“I know,” he says softly running his fingers through my hair. I close my eyes and lean into his hand.

“Andy was keeping you posted on everything that was happening, wasn’t he? Every time I saw him texting, it was to you wasn’t it? You told them to bring me with them and to bring me to the hospital, didn’t you?” It’s obvious, now.

“Yes, Jeremy too,” he admits.

“Do you have somebody?” I’m petrified of his answer. I curse myself for asking but I have to. I chant, ‘be brave,’ to myself.

“No Isa, I don’t.”

“You paid my hospital bill?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“You needed me and I was afraid I wouldn’t get there in time.”

“So I’m your charity case? What did you think I would do? What did you think would happen?”

“I don’t know, Jeremy and Anna were really scared for you, so was I,” he answers honestly.

“I’ll pay you back,” I say bitterly. “You don’t have to.”

“I want to. I don’t want to owe you anything.”

“You don’t.”

“Why wouldn’t you at least speak to me?” I ask the question that I desperately needed an answer for.

“I was angry. You guys keep going back to each other.”

“So you ignore me for three months? You slept with my best friend, got her pregnant and I never treated you that shitty.”

“You were intimate with Michael, you don’t have to sleep with him to betray me.”

“So you treated me like that out of spite, like you were punishing me.” I’m overcome with anger now. “I guess so.”

I reached up and caress the side of his head. It’s velvety soft even though it looks rough. He closes his eyes and leans into my hand.

“You broke my heart Scott,” I tell him. “I know, but you broke mine too.”

“I died inside,” I admit, wanting to know the severity of how much I hurt. “We’ll get through this,” he says touching my chin, giving me the first sign of hope from him. He raises my face as if he’s going to kiss me.

I turn away from him, “A week ago I would have believed you.” “And now?” he asks.

“I just want the suffering to end.”

“You don’t mean that,” he says.

I start crying. “I do mean it; I can’t survive either loving or losing you again. If we get back together, l will always be afraid of getting hurt, and if we stay apart, I will always feel like I have nothing to live for.”

“That’s not true,” he argues. “You have everything to live for. You’re beautiful, talented, smart, and have a lot of friends and family who love you. I’ll never hurt you like that again, I promise, just give me one more chance,” he pleads, “I’ve had time to think and we can be together again. I love you, Isabella.”

“It is an empty shallow promise that you can’t keep.”

“No Isa, seriously, it isn’t.” He brushes his lips against mine and then rests them there. He doesn’t pull away or moves. It’s just his lips on mine. Then after a long while his lips wedge mine opens for his tongue to explore my mouth. I weakly try to pull away but he grasps my hair at the back of my head and forcefully pushes me closer to him not allowing me to stop kissing him. Had it been a happier moment in our relationship, I probably would enjoy his aggressiveness but I’m too fragile and he’s pushing me over the edge again.

He releases me and I slide back in my seat. Then he reaches over and pulls the seatbelt across my chest locking it in place. He restarts the car and pulls away from the curb.

“Where are we going?” I ask.

“You’ll see. I have a surprise for you,” he says mysteriously.

I looked out the front windshield and recognize the directions, “There’s going to be people there,” I complain. “I don’t want anyone seeing me like this.”

“No, they won’t. It’s booked.” He pulls into the rink we trained at for the Olympics and parks the car. He grabs both our bags from the trunk and waits for me to get out. The arena is deserted. He brings me to my change room and gives me my bag, “I’ll meet you on the ice.” He turns and leaves. I dig through the bag finding a tracksuit and a dress. I chose the tracksuit, and then start putting on my skates. I walked up to ice level and he’s waiting for me in his wife beater t-shirt and Olympic pants. I shiver feeling cold right down to my bones. The thirty pounds I lost must have been insulation because it’s freezing in here. I inhale the wonderful familiar scent of the rink and then step out onto the ice, sliding my blades back and forth the way I always do.

I miss skating with him. In a week or two, he will get back all his jumps and spins, but I on the other hand will take much longer to get back everything I lost. I feel wobbly and weak. Three months of no skating, and weight loss has left me in a de-conditioned state. The nail is driven into our coffin. I drop to my knees whimpering silently. He drops down to his knees, facing me, wiping my tears away with his fingers.

“Scott, I can’t do this with you, our skating just like our relationship is over.”

“You don’t mean it,” he says. “We can do this. I will get you strong again.” “No, we can’t,” I say with a strength I never knew I have.