Rivers Bend (Book 2)

Chapter three

My feet work beneath me, my blades cutting into the ice as I practice some harder things I haven't done in a while. My arms whirl around me as I land, and my couch groans. It was rough, to say the least. I stop short in front of the board she's on the other side of and she shakes her head. 

"You're a choreographer's nightmare," My coach says, frowning, "Please, bend your knees!" 

"I know, it's a flaw and I'm going to get it, I promise," I reassure her and she nods. 

"One more time then we're done here," Coach instructs and I nod, pivoting backward to try again. 

The landing on this one was a little softer but still rough. I could feel my coach's eye roll even with my back to her, and when I turned around she was halfway out the door. 

I sigh, bringing a hand up to rub my temples. The last few practices have been stressful. I'm not used to skating anymore since my almost year-long break away from it, and if I'm completely honest, I don't think I'm ever going to be as good as I was before my pregnancy. I've come to terms with that fact because I'm aware of what pregnancy does to your body. 

It's devastating, yes, but it's the result of my actions and I'm okay with that. I do a few more laps on the ice, redoing to move once or twice trying to perfect it to the best of my ability, but it's mostly futile. 

When I get off the ice I go to the gym connected to the rink for an after-skate workout and I do some reps on different things. Then I get a call from Jett. I drop the weights I'm carrying and I answer the phone. 

"Yes?" 

"The cat is throwing up everywhere and I don't know what to do!" He says in a frenzy. 

I can't hold back the laugh that's rising in my throat, "Oh my god, do I need to come home?"

"Yes please," He breathes out. There's shuffling on the other side and I hang up, packing all my stuff and driving home. 

When I open the front door, the smell hits my face and I cover my nose with my shirt. Jett wasn't lying. There's a trail of cat throw up splattered down the hallway and it makes me wonder how a small cat like that has so much in its stomach. 

"Jett?!" I call out. 

"Kitchen!" He yells back. 

I step around the puke and walk into the kitchen. Jett has the cat in the sink, washing him with soap. 

We work together in silence, and I grab the supplies to clean up the throw-up and get to work. The day is over rather quickly after that, and I make dinner for Jett and I. 

These recent days have been filled with silence, and it's unsettling. Usually, Jett and I are full of conversation, and I still am, but he seems quieter. I'm not sure how to approach the subject because it might just be me overthinking, and I'm just looking for a fight, but I don't know. It raises my suspicion because Jett usually never acts this distant and quiet. 

Or maybe it's always been this way, and the fact that we have been getting to spend a little more time together, I'm just now noticing it. Who knows, really? I'll for sure be bringing this up in my next conversation with Brooklyn and Olivia. 

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Hey babes it's your fav author. Sorry for the 500-word chapter I've been busy recently and don't know how to make this longer. Thanks for reading, see ya next chapter!