Worth The Wait

𝟏𝟔|𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐓𝚮 𝐓𝚮𝚬 𝐖𝚨𝐈𝐓

𝐑𝐈𝐕𝐄𝐑 𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐂𝐎𝐓𝐓

I can feel the improvement. It's not huge, but it's something. The last few days, I've been able to manage a few lifts without falling on my ass. And Lucie, even with all the walls she's put up, she's noticed. I see the way she watches me sometimes—like she's trying to figure me out. She doesn't have to say it, but I know she's impressed.

I'm not a figure skater. I'll never be a figure skater. But for the first time, I feel like I'm making progress. And it feels damn good.

Lucie's not easy to please, though. She's tough on me, tougher than I'd like her to be, but I guess I deserve it. I've been nothing but a mess since I showed up at that rink. But I'm trying to get it right. I'm trying to show her I'm not the same arrogant jerk from high school.

The more I work, the more I see us working together. There's this... connection between us now. It's like we're in sync, even when we don't want to be. I know it's not love, not yet. But damn, the chemistry on the ice? It's undeniable. When she's near me, when we move together, there's this pull I can't ignore. And I think—no, I know—she feels it too. She might not want to admit it, but I can see it in the way her body reacts to mine when we move. There's something there, something real.

But the walls, they're still up. She won't let me close. She lets me in just enough to get a glimpse of what's underneath, but not enough to really understand her. Every time I try to push past that line, she shuts me out.

I won't give up though. I know I'm the one who has to keep trying. And if I have to keep showing up with a smile and a joke to chip away at those walls, then that's what I'll do. Lucie might not realize it yet, but I'm not going anywhere.

After practice today, I decided to take a break from the rink. I needed to see my mom. It's been a while, and honestly, I could use some time with her. There's something grounding about spending time with her, even though I hate seeing her so... different. The Alzheimer's has been taking more and more from her, but she's still my mom.

When I walk into her room, she's sitting in her favorite chair, reading a book with the light on even though it's late afternoon. It's quiet here, calm. Just the way I remember it, except the familiar warmth of the place doesn't quite reach me like it used to.

"Hey, Mom," I say softly, sitting down next to her.

She looks up and blinks a couple of times, her face lighting up when she recognizes me. "Oh, James, sweetheart," she says in that voice I've always loved. I freeze for a second. My dad's been gone for years, but she's still calling him by his name. She hasn't done that in months. It's not a new thing, but every time it happens, it still stings.

I try to keep the concern out of my voice, but it's hard. "Mom, I'm not Dad. I'm River."

She smiles, a little sheepishly. "Oh, River, of course. I'm sorry. I don't know why I keep doing that."

I bite my lip, forcing a smile. I don't want her to feel bad, but I can't help the weight of the situation. "It's okay, Mom. Just, don't worry about it."

She nods, and I try to steer the conversation somewhere lighter. We talk about old memories, about the garden she used to keep out back, about the dog we had when I was little. It's familiar, comforting, even if it feels like I'm talking to someone who's half there. But at least she's here, at least I can still be with her.

I leave her apartment later, a heavy feeling in my chest. It's tough, watching her slip further away, but what can I do? I push it to the back of my mind, focus on the rink, focus on getting better for Lucie.

I'm not sure why I'm so determined to keep trying with her, but I am. Every little thing I do to get closer to her, she pulls away. Every time I try to break down one of her walls, she builds a new one. But there's something there. I see it, even if she doesn't want to admit it.

As I pull out my phone to check messages, a name pops up on the screen: Maddie. I haven't heard from her in a while.

I swipe the screen to answer, but before I can speak, I hear her voice, casual and too familiar. "River! Hey, it's me. I was just thinking about you."

It doesn't feel the same as before. It's not that I don't enjoy talking to her. She's fun, easy, no complications. But something's changed. Something about me has changed.

"Hey, Maddie," I say, my tone light. "What's up?"

She laughs, but there's a strange, hollow feeling to the sound. "Not much. Just wanted to check in. Are you still doing that ice skating thing? You still managing to not break your neck? How's your ankle?"

I wince at the mix-up, but I keep it cool. "Yeah, I'm doing alright. Getting better, actually. It's my knee, though, not my ankle."

There's a pause on the other end. I can almost hear her shrug. "Right, your knee. Whatever. As long as you're not in traction. Just wanted to check in."

I hear the disinterest in her voice, like she's just passing time. And it hits me—she's never really been there for me. Not like Lucie has been. Lucie, no matter how much she tries to push me away, has been there, day in and day out. She's been pushing me, calling me out, making me better, even if she's unwilling to admit that we're getting somewhere. Maddie? She just shows up when it's convenient for her.

"Alright, well, just checking in. Don't die on the ice," she says before hanging up.

I sit back in the car, staring at the phone screen after Maddie hangs up. The conversation felt distant, like we were both going through the motions. She was fun at first, a distraction from everything, but now it feels like just that—something to pass the time. And it doesn't help that I can't shake the thoughts of Lucie, the way she's been making me feel things I don't want to feel. Things I didn't want to confront.

My phone buzzes again, breaking my reverie. Maddie's name lights up once more, and I hesitate before answering.

"Yeah?" I say, trying to keep the annoyance out of my voice, but she's not an easy person to ignore.

"Hey, River, I was thinking," Maddie says, her voice light, almost too casual. "You wanna come over? I could use some company, and I know you're probably tired of being cooped up at the rink all day."

I lean back in my seat, unsure. Part of me wants to say yes—it's easy, no pressure, no emotional baggage. I could forget about everything for a while. But then I think of Lucie. How even when she's pushing me away, it feels like there's something real between us. Maddie doesn't make me feel anything like that. She's just... there.

"I don't know," I mutter, rubbing the back of my neck. "I've got a lot on my plate right now. I'm training, working on this routine with Lucie, you know how it is."

"Yeah, sure," Maddie replies, her tone unbothered, as if she doesn't mind hearing the rejection. "But it'd be nice to catch up. Maybe we can grab some drinks, hang out. Just like old times."

I look at the street ahead of me, the familiar surroundings not comforting anymore. "I'll think about it," I say, not really meaning it.

She doesn't press further. "Alright, well, let me know if you change your mind. You've got my number."

"Yeah, I will," I say, before hanging up.

The call ends, but I feel more distant than before. It's not that Maddie's a bad person—she's just... not the person I want to be around right now. She's a reminder of the past, of who I was before Lucie came back into my life and made everything complicated.

Lucie.

The thought of her has my stomach twisting. She's still keeping me at arm's length, but there's something about the way we move together on the ice, how our chemistry is undeniable despite the walls she keeps up. I don't know if I'll ever break through to her, but I'm not giving up. Not for Maddie. Not for anyone.

I start the car, my mind still swirling with thoughts of Lucie and how I can't seem to get her out of my head. I should go home, take a break, get some rest. But the thought of seeing Lucie tomorrow at the rink pulls me in.