that life is something to desire.”
My eyes widened at that. “Exactly. See? That’s why I need you to not run. I need you, Shelby. And, I mean, maybe I’m wrong…but I think you need me, too.”
A sad smile tilted one side of her mouth. “Since when did you become so co-dependent?”
Relief flooded through me. A joke—thank God for that. “Just because you can’t see my scars doesn’t mean they don’t exist.”
Shelby stood slowly, tossing the pillow back on the couch, and hoisted her purse onto her shoulder, moving toward the elevator. I let her go this time. Emotion swelled in my chest, and I thought I might throw up.
There was a sniffle from the doorway, and when I peeked an eye open, Shelby leaned against the door. “You coming?” she said with a jerk of her head.
I jumped to my feet, grabbing the nearest T-shirt and shoving my head through it. “Where?” I asked, stuffing my keys and wallet into my pocket. But it didn’t matter. I didn’t care where we were going. Because I’d follow her just about anywhere.
Shelby swallowed, working her jaw, deep in thought. “We’re going to the only place I’ve ever felt comfortable talking.”
…
Shelby’s car was in the shop again, and I didn’t trust her intoxication levels yet, so I drove. And with a series of twists and turns, we finally ended up pulling into the empty parking lot of a wealthy neighborhood playground. I turned the ignition, cutting the engine off. “Shelby—”
“Shhhh.” With puckered lips, she lifted a finger, silencing me. After another moment, she unclicked her seat belt and opened the passenger door. “Come on,” she finally said.
I followed her to the middle of a playground. We were surrounded by jungle gyms, metal climbing bars, and a series of mirrors. Shelby circled the play area, sliding her hands along the bars as though they were long lost friends. “My mom used to take me here.” Her voice cracked.
I looked around the playground. It was in the middle of an extremely wealthy section of town. We were surrounded by mini-mansions, similar to the sort in the neighborhood I grew up in if you doubled the lot sizes. “You grew up here?” I asked quietly.
She nodded, her stare vacant. “Kind of.” Shelby paused in front of one of the mirrors, grasping the metal bar in front of her. As she swung her leg back and forth in graceful movements, I followed the line of her muscular leg and pointed toe. “My mom was a professional ballerina before she had me. She was good, too—at least according to the reviews she had cut out of the newspaper and saved. She traveled the world with a Ukrainian company. And somewhere along the way, my presence surprised her. She never danced again after having me. It took most of her energy, as a single mom of an infant, and of course, I “ruined” her body by ballet’s unrealistic standards. Even when she stuck her finger down her throat to get her figure back—they still rejected her.”
Anger flared inside me at that. It wasn’t fair and yet, it was the same story for a lot of women in sports as well. Unease churned in my stomach. I didn’t know where this was going. Shelby seemed like she was in her own world. She wasn’t talking to me; she was talking at me.
I said nothing, but sat in the middle of a roundabout, waiting for her to continue.
“So, she married my stepdad. Ex-stepdad, I should say. He was fine, I guess, for a while. I always wanted to be a ballerina, though…just like my mom. But he refused to pay for lessons. He just about refused anything I wanted. His son was the most important, and I was secondary.” Shelby shrugged and stretched her leg overhead in a ballet move that seemed to defy physics. Wow. I’d seen her high kick during the cancan lessons, but this was a whole different sort of grace. I chewed my bottom lip, digging my heel into the mulch, and continued listening. “So, my mom would bring me here and give me lessons herself.”
Shelby’s voice drifted off, and I waited a few minutes, but she offered me nothing else. I moved in behind her, hugging from behind. “How did she die?”
Shelby gulped, and I could hear the sob building in her throat. But she was stronger than that, and with one more swallow, it disappeared. “Cancer. About three months ago.” She blinked, and her eyelashes