Page 38 of Damaged Protector
“Yes, but…”
“It was good to talk to you. Tell Daddy hi for me.”
“Mallori…”
“Good bye, Mama. Send me a text and let me know how the craft fair goes.” And I hung up, a sense of satisfaction swelling inside me. I was pretty fucking proud of how I’d handled that.
My stomach growled, reminding me that it was lunchtime, and I hopped off my bed and headed down the hallway. My footsteps stalled as I neared Hawk’s workout room, and I glanced inside, looking at the girl in the mirror.
She looked like a dancer. She had the body for it, and as I entered and drew closer to the reflection, I saw that she had something I hadn’t seen in a while. A fire in her eyes. A passion for what she loved. My feet almost itched to move.
Blowing out a breath, I asked the room, “Can I do it? Do I want to?”
No one answered. Shocking. My brain was a jumble of confusion, so I left the room and went to the kitchen. After warming the rice bowl I’d prepared the night before, I sat at the bar and FaceTimed the counselor I’d been talking to.
“Hey, Mallori,” she said, her sweet face filling my screen.
“Hi, Merrit. How’s it going?”
“Really good. How about you? Did everything go well with your move?”
Forking up a bite of carrot and rice, I nodded as I chewed. “Really well. I’m staying with a friend of my cousin’s because they had a plumbing issue.”
I stabbed a piece of zucchini with my fork but didn’t eat it.
“Is there a problem with where you’re staying? Is that why you called?”
My head shook back and forth, and she waited patiently before I finally said, “There’s a workout room here with mirrors on the walls.”
I saw realization dawn in her pretty blue eyes. “Ah. Is the person you’re staying with a dancer?”
The image of Hawk performing ballet moves made me giggle. “I’m pretty sure he’s not, but I think at one time, the room was built for a dancer.”
Merrit pushed a strand of blonde hair behind her ear. “And how do you feel about that? Are you ready?”
“Maybe. I think so. I felt… excited when I went in there today. I stared at myself in the mirror, and I saw the fire in my eyes again. My feet wanted to move.”
A small smile quirked her lips up. “You know how I feel about it. What have I told you?”
“Not to let someone else steal my joy. If it makes me happy, I should dance.”
She looked proud of me. I stuck the zucchini in my mouth and chewed as she talked. “Exactly. I know you went through a lot, but you’re a strong young woman, Mallori. If you want to dance, do it.”
A sigh puffed from my lips. “I think I mostly stopped because it was like a big middle finger to my mother. She wanted me to dance so badly, so I didn’t.”
“Agreed, and that’s okay. It was your way of asserting yourself, showing that you can make your own decisions. If you decide to give it a try, you don’t even have to tell anyone because what you do is your business.”
“You’re right.”
She grabbed a pen and a notepad. “I’m writing that down to give to my husband.” I giggled as she slowly intoned, “Mal-lor-ri said I am right.”
But when she held the notepad up for me to read what she wrote, it said something different: I am proud of you!!!
A warm, gushy feeling filled my belly, and tears stung the insides of my eyelids. “Thank you, Merrit.”
“Keep me updated. You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do. But also remember that you don’t have to hold back because of someone else’s actions. You do you, Mallori.”
“I ate ice cream last weekend,” I blurted. “And I drank daiquiris and beer.”