by Elias Taylor
By the time she reached her hotel room, Heather was limping. Each step on her knee made her wince in pain. She had pushed herself too far. The physical therapist had been adamant. Heather could dance again, but she had to know her limits.
Heather had been good at pushing herself right up to her threshold and then dialing it back to avoid further damage.
She grabbed some ice from the machine in the hallway and sat on her floor to ice her knee. She was going to be sore tomorrow. She might need to take an ice bath in order to take a preemptive strike at healing her muscles.
Heather exhaled in a long breath and leaned back on the palms of her hands. The pain was rough. When she was younger and healthier, she hadn’t minded. The soreness always faded. Her body rebounded. But now...was she even cut out for it anymore?
Her dance career up to that point flashed before her eyes. The hours of practice in her childhood. The push to get into Juilliard. The intensity of her first few months of college. The joy when the bigger parts started to come in. The loneliness during the non-dance hours. The thrill of stepping on stage for opening nights. Then the loss and the move back to Lyndon. The peace she found in her old studio. The excitement of designing lessons. The happiness she felt when she saw a student working harder and harder until she got the move right. The pride that came with every new idea she got for lessons.
And now this. Back to the cut-throat auditions. Yeah, they weren’t fun, but Heather had to admit that she was good at them. If she got the part, she would still have to push herself, but she knew she could produce high-quality work for the ballet. Then again, a choreographer had more flexibility. She didn’t have to be on retainer. She could take choreography commissions all over. It might be nice to travel instead of being stuck in one place.
Of course, Heather thought of LA. There were tons of choreography opportunities there, not just for the stage, but for film and music videos as well.
Heather adored the Chicago ballet, but did she really want to move back to this massive city and live alone in a cramped apartment and only ever socialize with other dancers?
Lenora Newsome had been right. It was tough to orient herself in this new phase of her career. At first, it had seemed like she had no good options. Now, she felt like she had too many options.
One day at a time. Heather had to take this one day at a time.
She glanced at her phone. Hayden had not called again. That was fine. That didn’t bother her. Or rather, Heather wouldn’t let it bother her. She would finish icing her knee and then go straight to bed.
She would focus on the audition and only on the audition.
One day at a time.
Heather thought it might be easier to take things one day at a time if she could only find a little more joy in thinking of the next day.
Chapter Twenty: Sunset
“Another one,” Hayden said.
The bartender at Maverick’s, an older guy who knew the Hogs crowd like the back of his hand, made no comment. He only raised his brows and pushed another beer Hayden’s way.
Hayden had been at the bar since he found out that Heather had left. He had even called in sick to work, something he rarely did. Louie wouldn’t fire him; he needed Hayden’s classic car expertise too much. Plus, it didn’t matter if Louie fired him. Nothing mattered.
Hayden tipped the beer back into his throat. He had lost count of how many he had consumed. Too many, for sure.
He wanted to forget. He didn’t want to know that Heather was in Chicago, wowing everyone with her choreographer. He didn’t want to know that she had left without even telling him if she would be back. He wanted to quiet all the noise in his head.
So far, it wasn’t working. Nothing was working.
What had he done the last time Heather had dumped him? It had been different then. Hayden had seen her every day in the school hallways. He had grown defensive. He had wrapped his pain in layer after layer of scowls and nonchalance.
Hayden winced as he recalled a particularly petty episode. He had been so furious that Heather seemed oblivious to him that he had wanted to do anything to get her attention. He had asked out Penny Skylar just to see if he could get under Heather’s skin that way.
Poor Penny was collateral. Hayden had been reckless in his desire to hurt Heather like she had hurt him.
Hayden had orchestrated an entire event. He knew exactly when Heather would leave her last period to head to dance and he made sure that he and Penny were snuggled up by her locker. He was kissing Penny, but he had his eye on Heather the entire time.
It had done nothing. Heather hadn’t even lifted one of her perfect eyebrows. She had just grabbed her stuff and headed off to dance.
All she did was dance. She had broken up with him to focus on her craft and that was exactly what she had done.
Eventually, Hayden had just started cutting class so he wouldn’t have to see her.
Now, Hayden couldn’t even rustle up the desire to get revenge or make Heather jealous. He knew it wouldn’t work and he wasn’t an immature teenager anymore.
Hayden was left with no option but to find some way to cope. This time, he wouldn’t drag anyone else into his descent. This time, he would only harm himself.
Like clockwork, Georgie arrived fifteen minutes after his shift ended. Hayden had known his friend would seek him out. Hayden had just hoped he would be too drunk to talk. Unfortunately, Hayden was still very much in control of his mental facilities.
“Bro, what’s going on?” Georgie asked. “Louie was fuming over how he just got a new vintage in for repairs.”
George sat down beside Hayden, even as Hayden tried to give him his absolute best Don’t-Fuck-With-Me Glare. Undeterred, Georgie ordered his own drink and looked Hayden up and down.
“You do not look like your ideal self,” Georgie said, in typical Silvertongue fashion.
Hayden only grunted in return. His friend lowered his voice to a concerned tone.
“Louie said Heather was lookin’ for you yesterday,” George said.
Hayden only took another sip of his beer. Maybe if he said nothing, George would give up and leave. It was a hopeless case. George never gave up on talking. That was probably what made him such a great friend, but at this very moment, Hayden couldn’t seem to appreciate that.
“Did something happen between you two?” George asked.
At Hayden’s scowl, Georgie leaned back and sighed.
“So that’s a yes,” George said. “Fuck, I thought this time was it for you two.”
He leaned forward and drummed his fingers on the bar as he started to launch into a plan.
“You can fix this, easy. Whatever happened, you just gotta go talk to her, she’s crazy about you, I know it.”
“Shut up,” Hayden said.
“Seriously, it can’t be that bad,” George said. “Just buy some flowers, say you’re sorry, it will never happen again—”
“She’s gone,” Hayden said.
“She’s not gone. You can win her back, I’m sure of it.”
“No,” Hayden said. His voice came out cold and cruel. “She’s in Chicago auditioning for a new job and she’s not coming back.”
“Bro, you can’t just give up hope like this.”
“You don’t fucking get it, do you?” Hayden said. “There never was any hope for us to begin with. It’s me and Heather Carlson...we do not go together.”
“Bullshit,” Georgie said. His friend was riled up now. “This is self-pitying Doomsday bullshit.”
“I was stupid to think I could ever be what she needed. She’s a dancer meant for big cities and bright lights, and I’m a no-good biker mechanic.”
“Man, you are a seriously melodramatic drunk.”
“Shut up,” Hayden said. “This is the second fucking time I’m asking you to shut your big mouth.”
“I just think you’re giving up too easy.”
“Please,” Hayden said, no longer angry. Just exhausted. “Please let me move on
.”
George’s face turned sad at Hayden’s depressed tone. Then George nodded. He finished his own beer and got up.
“We’ll talk later,” George said.
Hayden sat alone at the bar for another two hours, but he didn’t get another beer. He just stared into space, his mind a tornado of dark thoughts.
Over and over, he replayed the fight. Heather’s concern fading into anger so fast. Her accusations that he hadn’t changed, he was still getting himself into trouble. His own guilt when he knew she had a point. He had promised to return that night. Even so, he had been livid when she told him about the audition. She had clearly known about the offer for days, maybe even longer. She just hadn’t told him. He wasn’t supposed to be a part of the decision, even if it concerned him. Just like last time, he had no say in anything. He was there for her until she decided it was time for her to end the relationship and go back to her old life.
After his thoughts had reached a fever pitch, Hayden slammed his hands down on the bar and decided to leave. Drinking wasn’t helping, but maybe riding his bike would offer some relief.
He chugged two huge glasses of water and waited another thirty minutes before heading out to his bike.
As soon as his wheels hit the road, Hayden knew where he was going. The place. The little spot on the coast that overlooked their secret beach.
He was a glutton for pain, a total masochist, but he had no choice. He was going to that beach where he could relive all the best memories of him and Heather while knowing they would never be together again. There weren’t going to be any more new memories.
When he got to the outlook spot, he pulled his bike in and just sat for a few long moments. Without Heather pressed to his back, his whole body was cold from the wind coming off the ocean.
Hayden dismounted and made his way down the trail to the sand. The sun was setting in a fiery blaze of glory. Heather would love it. She adored beautiful things like that.
When Hayden was with her, he found himself seeing the world through her eyes. Without her by his side, he couldn’t appreciate the luminous streaks of pink and purple spanning out from the orange circle of sun.
Hayden sat down on the beach and propped his elbows on his knees.
What had he done wrong? What was the exact moment things turned from wondrous to horrible?
Walking into the trap with Charlie had been bad, but downplaying it had been a mistake too. He should have filled Heather in on the situation instead of giving her only vague details. That way, she might have known his intentions had been good. Since she was blindsided by the whole thing, she could only assume the worse.
Then again, maybe the real mistake was starting up with Heather again in the first place. They were older, but what was really different about them? He was still from the wrong side of the tracks and tied to Lyndon, and she was still a dancer longing for far-off stages.
That night, after the Ferris wheel, he should have kept his mouth shut. He shouldn’t have invited her for a ride and he definitely shouldn’t have taken her to this beach. Because Hayden knew himself that once they got into the water, it had been too late. He could never have turned away from Heather at that point. She had been so open that night on the beach, so ready to lose herself to the feeling of being with him. He had felt her let down her boundaries. He had felt himself let go of his own doubts and insecurities.
And things had been good. He wasn’t in denial about that. That perfect date in San Diego and the weeks that followed had been golden. Things in the bedroom had been beyond good. He and Heather had reached indescribable heights. Hayden had never felt more content than he had when he woke up each morning with Heather nestled in his arms.
Outside of sex, things had been great as well. They had a good groove going. Hayden would work his shifts at the shop and Heather would teach her classes. They would have dinner together at his place or hers and talk over each other’s day. Then Hayden would make more plans for his own auto shop and Heather would plan lessons.
Every time they went out, she had put her hand in his. She had laughed and joked. Things had been good.
Until they weren’t. How could something so amazing take only a few minutes to fall apart?
The sun sank below the horizon and nightfall descended, but still Hayden remained on the beaches as the hours drifted by.
He kept thinking about one morning about a week before the fight. He had spent the night at Heather’s, and they both woke up early. He had been delighted to discover they were both early risers.
Hayden had been making eggs while Heather made coffee. They had moved with ease around her kitchen. They had discussed the day ahead and Heather said something about planning a dance routine for the fall showcase.
He had frozen. For the first time, she had mentioned being in Lyndon for the long-term. Sure, the fall showcase was only two months away, but still. That was two months Hayden had not known about.
“I’d love to see the showcase,” Hayden said, trying his best to be casual.
“You absolutely have to come,” Heather said. “But be careful. Half the girls are starting to get crushes on you.I can tell by the way they giggle when you meet me after class.”
He had leaned over and kissed her hard, even though she was holding a hot cup of coffee.
She smiled and then they had sat and enjoyed breakfast together. It had all been perfect.
Despite his harsh words to George and all the tenants of common sense, Hayden couldn’t shake the feeling that it wasn’t over. He couldn’t walk away, not just yet. There was something holding him tethered to Heather even though she was miles and miles away.
He loved her. He was more in love with her than he had been in high school. That was the undeniable truth.
But what was he supposed to do? What could he do? She was in Chicago, and he was here. Heather had been clear that she was pissed at him.
If he was logical, he would just take his vows and step into his brother’s spot and focus on the club. What was the point of waiting for her?
He had waited for Heather for ten long years.
And she came back, Hayden thought.
He had waited and she had come back to him, and if he was being honest, he had been thrilled that he had waited. He was glad he hadn’t moved on to be with someone else.
He couldn’t wait another ten years, though.
He couldn’t even think about the whole agonizing situation.
He leaned back until he was lying flat on his back and looked up at the stars.
What was Heather doing right this minute? Was she out to dinner with her old Chicago friends? Or maybe she was still at the theater, practicing her dance over and over until she got it right.
Was it at all possible that she was thinking of him?
Hayden stared at the stars for hours and hoped that somehow, someway, Heather was looking at the same stars.
Chapter Twenty-One: Too Late
At the end of the second-to-last day of auditions, Heather was drained. Her body was exhausted, and her mind even more so, but she had made it through. Tomorrow, it was down to the final three candidates and Heather was one of them.
That day had involved showing some original choreographed numbers. Heather had used an adapted version of a dance she had come up with for the advanced ballet class at Lenora’s studio. Leonard had been seriously impressed. Heather had gotten an actual smile of approval, a rare sight from Leonard. Yet Heather had found herself wishing she could see the advanced class perform it, just one more time. They had been really coming together as a group during the last class.
When she got back to the hotel, she couldn’t believe how exhausted she was. She supposed it didn’t help that she hadn’t been sleeping well. Each night, she had tossed and turned for hours. With no dance to distract her during the day, her mind drifted to Hayden. What he was doing, where he was, what he might be saying or thinking about her.
Then, just when she thought she might actually drift
off, her knee would start hurting.
As she got into the hotel elevator, she knew it might be another rough night. Her knee was throbbing after the long day of auditions.
Heather longed to throw herself into the bed, but she had to ice her knee. She shuffled down the hallway with a bucket and loaded some ice. On her way back to her room, she passed by a cart carrying a room service meal. It was some sort of meat and the smell wafted towards Heather.
A wave of nausea hit her hard and fast. Heather stumbled back through her own door and quickly put the ice bucket down before dashing towards the bathroom.
She made it to the toilet bust in time to empty the contents of her stomach. She wretched until there was nothing left. Then she sat, curled up on the cold tile floor for long moments. When the feeling of nausea had passed, Heather cleaned herself up and splashed water on her face.
She brushed her teeth with rigor. She hated the taste of bile in her mouth.
Her toothbrush in her mouth, Heather’s eyes fell on her toiletry bag. To be specific, she looked at the pink wrapper sticking out of her toiletry bag. The tampons she had tossed in as she speedily packed.
Heather spit out her toothpaste and rinsed her mouth. She tried to do some math in her head, but she was too overwhelmed to think straight. The days and numbers blurred together.
She walked out of the bathroom and pulled up a calendar on her phone. There, her last period had been just before she arrived home in Lyndon. She remembered being grumpy about the combination of cramps and knee pain.
She counted the days since and gasped in shock. She was ten days late. That was unheard of for her.
With a sinking feeling, Heather cast her mind back to the night on the beach. No condom. She was on the pill and she had implicit trust in Hayden. If he wasn’t clean, he wouldn’t have done it.
Then again, during the hectic move, Heather had been lax about actually taking the pill. She knew she had forgotten a few days, and she hadn’t been seeing anyone, so she had shrugged it off. She had been more mindful once she and Hayden got together, but those first few times had been risky. Heather couldn’t even say for certain if she had taken the pill at all the day of the fair. She had been so preoccupied with her car breaking down and teaching her first lesson.