You and I Together Page 19

  “Why the fuck did you not come to me?” His words bounce off the walls around us.

  “I don't know. I didn't want you to think that I didn't trust you. Besides, it wasn't like I premeditated this. I saw an opportunity and I seized it.” I stutter out, not sure what else to say.

  “You saw an opportunity and you seized it. Wow.” He says, shaking his head at me, his nostrils flaring in anger. “You saw an opportunity to go behind my back and try to find out information that I would have told you had you just asked.” He's practically yelling at this point and honestly, I'm not sure what the hell to do.

  “I'm sorry. That sounds awful. It wasn't like that. I just....” He cuts me off before I can say more.

  “You just what Anna?” He screams across the room at me.

  “I just needed something about this to make sense.” I finally say what I am really feeling, my voice shaking through my words. “This.” I say, gesturing between the two of us. “It's never made sense. It doesn't add up. You can have anyone. It doesn't make sense for you to love me.”

  “So you thought you'd find out my real motives by talking to a girl who not only lied to me about being pregnant with my child, but then suckered me into letting her stay here when she admitted the actual father of said child beat her regularly and ended up causing her miscarriage? That I slept with her a total of three times over the course of a year and somehow in her fucked up mind she equated that to us being in a relationship? What I had with her does not even resemble what we have but then you would know that had you just asked me yourself.”

  “I'm sorry. I was scared.” I admit, trying to fight the emotion clogging my throat.

  “You were scared?” He throws his hands up in frustration. “What were you scared of Anna? What?” His words are laced with anger and confusion and it's clear to see just how badly I fucked up here.

  “You.” I scream the word back at him, not able to hold it in any longer. “I am scared of you.” The tears well in the back of my eyes but for once in my life, I don't try to fight them. “I'm terrified that one day you are going to wake up and realize that you don't actually love me and then you're going to leave me.”

  “So you go looking for an out instead?” He screams, pushing a stack of papers off the desk. They scatter all over the floor in front of him but he doesn't stop. “You could have talked to me. You could have confided in me. Instead, you went looking for a way to leave me.” He shakes his head like he can't believe his own words.

  “No. It's not like that, I promise.” I stumble towards him, grabbing his face with both of my hands. I try to make him look at me but he won't meet my gaze. Grabbing both of my wrists, he pulls my hands down and backs away from me.

  “I won't do this anymore Anna. I can't deal with the lies and the secrecy. You are so hell bent on the fact that I am going to hurt you that you can't see past your own fucking insecurities to see that you are what's hurting you. So you know what, I'll save you the trouble. This is over.” He says, his eyes meeting mine just as the tears begin to pour down my face.

  “Bentley please.” I try to plead with him but he only shakes his head and spins towards the door. “Bentley. I'm sorry.” I call out as he disappears into the hallway, slamming the door closed with so much force it causes the walls to rattle slightly around me.

  I want to go after him, convince him how sorry I am but I can't will myself to move. Sagging against the desk, I drop my face into my hands, my stomach twisting painfully causing me to double over. Not able to contain the sobs now racking through my entire body, I let the pain take me under. It has finally happened. I finally lost him. Only it wasn't because of him. It was because of me.

  I can't make myself move. I can't bring myself to care about anything. All I can hear is his voice over and over again. “This is over.” The pain behind those words has already etched its way deep inside of my bones and I know, without a doubt, it's a pain that I will live with for the rest of my life.

  “Anna.” I hear a light knock against the door followed by the footsteps of someone entering the room. I don't have to look up to know it's Ethan. Of course Bentley probably sent him in to get rid of me.

  “Come on. Let me get you out of here.” He says, wrapping his arm around me. I lean into his large frame and let him guide me out of the room. I keep my eyes on the floor as he leads me down the hallway and out, what I can only assume, is the back entrance of the club.

  “Where is he?” I ask Ethan the moment the night air hits me, giving me a small ounce of clarity from my otherwise clouded mind.

  “I don't know. He just left. He didn't say where he was going, only that I make sure you get home safely.” He says.

  “Thanks Ethan. But I don't need your help.” I say, taking a deep breath and straightening my posture. “I don't need anything from him and I don't want it.” I push Ethan's arm away and immediately take off walking towards the street.

  “Anna please.” He quickly catches up to me just as I veer left onto the sidewalk. “Just give him some time. He's upset right now.”

  “I don't care anymore.” I stop abruptly and turn on Ethan. “I don't care. Please, leave me alone.” I say, making an attempt to keep walking but he grabs my forearm, halting my movements.

  “Please. Anna, I have known him for years and I have never seen him with a woman the way he is with you. But he's been burned, a lot, and that's what this is about. He just needs time to realize that you were just trying to protect yourself, like he's trying to protect himself right now. Please. Don't give up on him.” He says, dropping my arm.

  “I didn't give up on him.” I say, feeling the tears well behind my eyes again. “He gave up on me.”

  Chapter

  Twenty-Four

  I try to remember a time that I have ever felt as helpless as I do right now, but there is only one thing that even comes close, when I lost dance. And as terrible as that was and as low as I felt, it still doesn't touch the pain now consuming every ounce of me.

  I look around the room from my place on the stage, trying to imagine that Bentley never existed. That I am still the same Logan from four months ago. A time when I loved being here and not just on stage but at Allure in general.

  A time when I was blissfully unaware of just how empty my life was. A time when I was happy in my ignorance, in my denial. Things were so much easier then; simpler. Now, well, nothing feels right anymore. I close my eyes and grip the pole in front of me, trying my best to get through just one routine without scanning the room for Bentley every five seconds. I think it's pretty clear that he doesn't want to see me, but that doesn't keep me from looking for him anyways.

  Last night was torture being here, and while I expected tonight to be a little easier, it's actually harder. Last night I had some semblance of hope that he might show up, tell me he made a mistake. Tonight however, that hope has since faded, making this night a very hard one to face.

  Leaning my head back, my hair nearly grazes the floor before I pull back up and spin again, trying to keep my movements smooth and my composure in tact. The song selection is not helping. “Masterpiece” by Jessie J. It's an amazing song and one that is all about embracing imperfections and on a normal day, I love dancing to it. I love the message and the meaning; that we are all a work in progress. I just hate how much it reminds me of my own flaws and where those flaws have led me.

  I practically sprint from the stage the moment the songs winds down. Ducking behind the back curtain, I take a few deep breaths trying to calm the sickening feeling that seems to have worked it's way from my stomach and is now spreading through my limbs; making every part of my body feel oddly numb.

  I don't know how to do this. I don't know how to deal with the amount of raw emotion coursing through me. It's all too much. I feel too much. It hurts too much. Panic starts setting in and I push away from the wall and quickly make my way towards my dressing room, but before I can slip inside, Josh's voice calls out to me from behind.

  Turnin
g slowly to face him, the moment he registers my face, his expression changes. “Logan are you okay?” He asks, slowly making his way towards me.

  “I'm fine.” I say, taking a deep breath and trying to push aside my mental melt down, or at least postpone it until I am alone.

  “You don't look fine.” He says, gesturing for me to step inside of my dressing room. I enter, crossing the room and taking a seat on the couch as Josh steps inside and shuts the door behind him. “Logan.” His voice is soft and he waits until I meet his gaze before speaking again. “What's going on?”

  “Nothing.” I answer flatly, not wanting to get into this with Josh of all people.

  “Really?” He cocks his head to the side slightly. “Because from where I am standing you look like hell.”

  “Good to know.” I retort, kicking off my heels.

  “I didn't mean it like that.” He says, crossing the room and hesitantly taking a seat on the opposite end of the couch. “You just look really sad.” He says, the softness of his voice causing the swell of tears to return.

  I want to hold it in. I want to find that strong independent girl that I know is inside of me somewhere and pull her out. But she's gone. I can't help but wonder if any piece of the person I was remains in tact or if this is who I am now. Broken, lost. Before I even realize what is happening, a sob escapes my throat and I slump forward, crying into my hands while Josh sits silently next to me, clearly not used to seeing me like this and not entirely sure how to handle me.

  “Logan.” His voice is closer the next time he speaks and I look up through tear blurred eyes to see him sitting directly next to me. Reaching out, he wraps his arm around my shoulder and without a word, pulls me to him.

  Curling inward, I bury my face into his chest and let the tears flow. It is the first time since my initial breakdown when Bentley walked out on me, that I have really cried. The first time that I have let the pain consume me to the point that I can't hold it in any longer or try to cover it up.

  I didn't cry when Patty picked me up from the airport. Or when I recapped the whole story to Andrea. Hell, up until this point, I am fairly certain I have felt too numb to cry. But that is simply not the case anymore. I don't feel numb right now. What I feel is pain. Crippling pain.

  “Shhhh. It's okay.” Josh hums softly beside me.

  Things have been so rough with Josh recently but even I can't deny the comfort that his arms bring me. Not in a sexual or romantic feelings kind of way, but in a friend way. Because before Josh was my lover and then my enemy, he was my friend. And it does not surprise me one bit that the moment I need him, he's here, no questions asked.

  My sobs continue to rack my body, vibrating through me to Josh. I don't know how much time passes; seconds, minutes. All I know is that when I finally manage to pull myself together, my face feels tight and swollen and Josh's shirt is completely soaked with my tears.

  “I'm so sorry.” I manage to get out through a long exhale as I pull out of Josh's arms.

  “Logan. Talk to me.” He says, his hand running along my back. “What happened?”

  “I happened.” I say, managing a weak smile. “It was me. It is me.” I say, turning my head inward to face Josh. “I'm sorry. For everything.”

  “Don't apologize. You haven't done anything wrong.” He gives me a small smile, his hand continuing to move up and down my back in a comforting fashion.

  “I've done a lot wrong.” I breathe, taking a deep breath when I feel the tears begin to well again. I let out an emotion filled laugh and begin wiping my eyes. “Look at me.” I say, gesturing to myself. “I'm a mess.”

  “You're right. You are a mess.” He agrees, laughing lightly when I turn wide eyes on him. “But I know you Logan. And you will figure it out. Whatever it is.”

  “Thank you.” I say, for the first time realizing how much I missed this Josh. “I don't think I can go back out there.” I gesture to the door, wiping away the tear streaks from my cheeks with the back of my hands.

  “I will take care of it. You should go home.” He says, pushing himself into a stand. “Take tomorrow off too. Come back next Sunday once you have had time to sort out whatever it is that is going on with you.” He crosses the room and pulls open the door before turning back to face me.

  “And Logan.” He pauses, waiting until I meet his eyes. “If you need anything, anything at all, please don't hesitate to call me. I know that we haven't been on the best of terms and I am sorry for the role I played in that. But I still care about you and I only want the best for you.”

  “I know you do.” I say, giving him a weak smile. “And thank you.”

  He throws me another nod and then pulls the door closed behind him. The moment he's gone, the silence buzzes around me making me feel antsy and unsettled. Pushing off the couch, I know that there is only one place I can go where I can let this all out; the pain and anger, the hurt and regret. If there is one place where I can make peace with my loss, it's the dance studio.

  ****

  It's less than twenty minutes before I arrive at PW Dance Studio. Considering it's after midnight, the studio is dark when I push my way inside. I use the light from my cell phone to guide me to my favorite studio room, not flipping on the lights until I close the door behind me.

  I waste no time crossing to the sound system. Kicking off my flip flops and pulling my sweatshirt off, I immediately power the system on and start scanning the music selection. I need something raw, something painful, something that I can connect to.

  “Big Girls Cry” by Sia immediately jumps out at me and I hit play on the track, crossing to the center of the room as the first beat of the song sounds through the speakers. I look at myself in the mirror, for the first time really seeing myself. My eyes are swollen, red. My hair is knotted in a messy bun. My makeup is completely washed away from my tears.

  Taking a deep breath, I begin moving with the music. I don't think about my movements, I only do what I feel. I spin and jump, punch at the air and scream at the top of my lungs as my body bounces from one end of the studio room to the other, utilizing the entire space.

  I dance harder than I have ever danced. I don't care about my knee or the physical pain I feel while straining it beyond the point it can tolerate. The physical pain I can take. It's the emotional pain, the pain I can't see, that is ripping me apart.

  My knee gives out on the last chorus of the song and I hit the floor hard, sprawling out on my back as I try to catch my breath. The track switches to the next song “Escape Route” by Paramore. It's edgy and has a faster tempo, and while I know that I shouldn't, I push myself back up and keep moving, determined not to let anything stop me from getting this out.

  I know that I am pushing my body beyond what it can take but it's the only thing I have. This is the only thing that makes me feel like me. The only thing that grounds me and allows me to dispense the pain building deep inside my core and splintering through every inch of my body.

  I dance harder, push harder. My jumps become more risky and my spins less controlled. I need to feel it. I need to remember. I need to find me again. I know she's in there. The girl afraid of nothing. The girl who depends on no one. The girl who doesn't let herself break. And for a split second, right before the awful popping sound and the pain that follows, I catch a glimpse of her in the mirror. It's only a glimpse and it's fleeting but it's there just the same.

  Slumping to the floor, I immediately grip my knee, knowing that there is no way I am going to be able to walk out of here tonight. But at the same time, I don't care. I don't care that I re-injured my leg or that I am in unbearable physical pain. All I care about is that for this moment, for this one moment, the physical pain is outweighing the emotional and that much I can take.

  Pulling up my pant leg, I cringe when I see how swollen my knee is already. Shaking my head, I scoot myself backwards to the far wall where I left my things. Grabbing my phone, I call the one person I know will be up. Lo.

  Chapter


  Twenty-Five

  “What the hell were you thinking?” Lo scolds me the moment the doctor disappears from the room after doing the initial exam on my leg. “You realize that if you have to have surgery again, you can't work.” She reminds me.

  “I don't think I care.” I admit, shrugging like I couldn't care less either way.

  “I don't get you. I mean, I get you, I do. I get what you're going through. But this is not the way to deal with it.” She says, her tone softening.

  “But it's my way of dealing with it.” I respond, holding back the rest of what I was going to say as a nurse steps into the room.

  She's a little older, maybe mid-forties, wearing her black hair in a tight bun and neon green scrubs with some kind of white design on them. “We are going to take you down the hall for an x-ray and ultrasound. You are welcome to wait here.” She turns to Lo for a moment before turning back to me.

  “Before we go, I just have a couple of questions.” She says, waiting for me to nod before continuing. “Are you allergic to any medications?” She asks.

  “No.” I give her a short one word response.

  “Any surgeries other than the two previous knee surgeries?” She continues when I shake my head no. “Any chance that you could be pregnant?” She asks, pausing when she registers the expression on my face.

  “Maybe.” I say, throwing a panicked look at Lo who seems to be in state of shock over my answer. “I mean, it's a possibility.”

  “Well, we will need to be certain before we take you back for x-rays. Give me just a moment and I will get a test.” She says, excusing herself into the hallway.

  “Are you?” Lo blurts, the moment the nurse disappears.

  “I don't know. I'm a week late.” I admit. “I don't think I am though.”

  “Do you really not think you are or are you in denial?” Lo asks, repositioning herself in the uncomfortable chair next to the bed I am sitting on.