Afterglow ❃ l.m.j

• chapter thirty three •

December flew by, and before I knew it, icicles and frosty air surrounded us as my dad and sister padded their way onto the ice skating rink. It was only us three here; a tradition we've kept up since we were kids. I sat on the bench, lacing up my skates. My dad had his arm around Taylor. He was easing her onto the ice like she was seven again and not nineteen.

None of us were pros, hell, we barely broke even. But when we skated onto the ice, it wasn't about being the best or how many tricks we could pull off. It was just about trying something new, that felt like the holidays, and laughing at how much we all sucked. Even after doing it every year since we were seven, Taylor and I barely got any better. I could keep myself upright and from getting my finger sliced off, but that's about it.

"Dad, you're gonna make me fall!" I heard my sister yell as she skidded slightly to the left. My dad's boisterous laugh could be heard even from the distance. I made sure the shoes on my feet were tight before I hobbled onto them. With a little force, I slid my way from the solid ground onto ice.

I took small strides to catch up to them. My dad looked over his shoulder with a big grin, opening his arm to take me under his wing. He planted a sloppy kiss on my forehead.

"Oh, I see what you're doing!" I giggled, carefully unwinding his arm. "You're trying to use us as cushions in case you fall!"

"You see him, right? He's squeezing the life out of me!" My sister squealed.

I waddled away from my dad's side and towards her, clamping a precautionary hand on her shoulder.

"Come on, he doesn't need us!" I stuck my tongue out playfully. My dad waved us off.

Together, Taylor and I held hands, wading through the ice with heavy breaths and wide eyes. Every lean and saunter felt like we were closer to death. Chuckles of thrill left our lips.

I thought about the moment in disbelief. To still be able to say me, my dad, and my sister upheld traditions like this was one was so cool. It was moments like these that made me excited for the holidays.

We circled laps around each other, wearily almost bumping into little kids and marveling at someone who brought their dog into the rink with his own personal pair of skates. After a few failed tricks and a slip or two, I was done skating. I smoothed away from Taylor to meet my dad on the outside of the rink where he watched us both. I took off my shoes and held them in my hands. My shoulder bumped with his when I nestled in next to him. He turned with a smile, pulling me into his side.

"How are we doing, huh? What's going in your head?"

I shrugged, looking out at the ice. "I don't know, dad. A lot. I think I'm stressed."

He let out a small laugh. "Stressed? Stressed about what? Your three kids and mortgage?"

I rolled my eyes. "Ugh, you sound like mom. No, I just have a lot going on at work. I've been thinking a lot lately about where I want to be in the world." I gestured circles around myself with my free hand. My dad nodded slowly.

"Oh, yeah? And where is that, Paris, Spain?"

I brought a hand up to my hair, scratching a patch in the back of my head. I snorted at the older man.

"No, dad, things like feeling good in my skin, feeling worthy of being loved. Maybe I could have a family, you know, if I really wanted to. I know the doctors said it's not possible for me, but imagine?"