Page 42 of Break my Heart
Maybe even a different life.
Or someone else’s life.
“Yeah,” I whisper, taking in the view. “It does.”
We sit in silence for a few moments as the cold air seeps through my jacket and into my bones. I shove my hands deeper into my pockets, trying to keep warm.
What doesn’t make sense is that the quiet between us feels… nice.
Like there’s no pressure to fill it with words.
There aren’t many people I feel comfortable with.
How weird is it that Hayes is turning out to be one of them?
I glance at him and notice the way his muscles have loosened. “Do you come to the nosebleed section often?”
“Actually, I do. It’s a good place to think. There’s always a shitload of people at our house, and it can get pretty noisy. There’s nowhere I can go on campus and just get away. Even in town. So, I’ll come here and sit in the cheap seats and just breathe in the icy air. It never fails to clear my head.” There’s a pause. “Do you have a place like that?”
I turn the question over in my mind. It never occurs to me to hold back. “I feel like that when I’m on the ice, running through an old routine.” My voice is barely more than a whisper. “Everything bothering me just melts away.”
Hayes leans back slightly as he continues to watch me. “You’re really good, Tink. Better than that. So why aren’t you competing anymore?”
The question sits between us, heavy and suffocating. My chest tightens, and for a second, I’m tempted to shut him down. I’ve been perfecting that move for months, the art of deflecting, of keeping things light and easy so no one probes too deep.
Instead of allowing instinct to take over, I let out a gradual breath, the air escaping my lungs like a slow puncture. The words hover on my tongue, but they’re hard to release. Even after all this time, it’s still difficult to talk about.
He must sense the weight of my silence, because his grip tightens around my hand, offering something that feels dangerously close to comfort. “You don’t have to tell me,” he says softly. “I just... You’re so damn talented. Watching you makes me forget about everything else going on in my life, and I can finally breathe.”
The unexpected admission hits me hard. His words wrap around me, warm and solid, making it difficult to speak.
When I finally find my voice, my words come out quiet and scratchy. “Thank you.”
“You’ve probably heard it before,” he says with a shrug, like it’s no big deal.
My throat tightens as I shake my head. “Not like that.”
For a moment, we just sit. The weight of unspoken words presses down on me as I stare at the untouched sheet of ice.
The girl who used to glide across it with dreams in her eyes and hope filling her heart feels so far away now, buried beneath the heaviness of the past.
It’s almost a surprise when I hear myself say, “Something happened last year…” My chest constricts as I trail off.
His steady gaze never wavers, and for the first time, I’m grateful for the darkness of the arena. It’s safer somehow. Like the shadows give me permission to let the past out, even though every part of me wants to shove it back down and keep it buried.
I never intended to tell anyone, least of all Hayes. But there’s something about him that makes it hard to lie or hide. Maybe it’s the way he listens without judgment, his fingers wrapped around mine, grounding me in the moment.
“Nathan Covington was my coach,” I begin, my voice shaky but determined. “He found me at a local competition and told my parents that I had something special. He said I was a natural and that he’d take me all the way if they let him. My parents were thrilled. Within months, we uprooted our whole lives and moved to Utah.”
Even though Hayes remains silent, I feel the tension building in him. His fingers are still wrapped around mine, but his grip tightens just enough for me to notice. I glance at him and find his expression unreadable but his eyes sharp, focused.
“I skated all day, every day. I had private tutors for academics, ballet classes, strength training, and cardio—you name it, I did it. It didn’t take long before I was winning competitions and moving up the ranks. Ever since I was a little girl, my goal had been to qualify for the Olympics. With Nathan focusing all his time and energy on me, there was no way it wouldn’t happen.” There’s a long pause as I gather my thoughts, the memories painful and raw. “But then... things changed.”
Hayes sucks in a sharp breath but doesn’t interrupt.
“It didn’t take long for Nathan to become my everything. He was my coach, my mentor, the person I trusted most in the world. We trained together, traveled together, and ate together. He’d help with homework. And I suppose I had a crush on him. When I turned eighteen and our relationship crossed a line, it never occurred to me to question it. I thought it was just the natural progression of things. I thought it was love.”
Hayes exhales harshly, his jaw clenched tight. “Ava...”