Jordan and Dani removed two small bags of her things from the jeep and headed up the brick walkway toward the front of the house. Chloe watched Jordan lead the way, Dani only a few steps behind her, their voices filled with laughter and love as they chatted about inconsequential things. Aleksei was busy moving the jeep into the side-load garage and yelled to Sergei he would unload her luggage through the garage and see him inside. Chloe watched the play of muscles across Sergei’s back as he picked up the few remaining bags his mother had insisted Chloe would need at the hospital, which from the looks of things hadn’t even been opened, and made his way toward Chloe.
Chloe looked uncertainly toward the brick structure that made up the Rocmanov home. Large, but not overly imposing, the two-story structure was colonial style in nature, but boasted a full wraparound porch, now filled with inviting chairs with comfy cushions that just screamed sit down and relax. Numerous planters of brightly colored flowers hung from the high rafters, their scents mingling sweetly.
The structure was completely made of a soft peach-tone brick, with dozens of windows, all gleaming brightly in the afternoon sun. With the mild temperatures, the windows were opened, the gentle breeze billowing the sheer curtains that granted privacy but allowed air to sweep them gracefully about in the dancing breeze.
Chloe had spent more time in this house, as a child, than she had in her own home, and yet, she felt as if she were seeing it for the first time. For a split second she felt safe and welcome, the way she had felt as a child, and then the vision of Andrew’s face filled with rage, and his hateful words, ‘ You’re fucking nothing’ , rushed over her and her blood went cold.
“I shouldn’t be here,” Chloe whispered, she felt so cold, cold all the way to her bones, could almost feel her blood sliding to a stop. Her eyes held a fearful wildness as she looked around, seeking an escape. “Andrew’s waiting for me. I can’t be late,” she whimpered, her body beginning to shake.
Sergei heard the pain and fear in her voice and struggled to keep his tone light, his voice calm, “You’re off the ice for a while. Remember, Chloe?” he asked, dropping the bags to the ground without thought, ignoring the sound of breaking glass, walking slowly the few steps toward Chloe where she struggled to remain upright, her balance vanishing on the uneven walkway.
“But the competition, I can’t miss the competition. I promised Andrew I wouldn’t mess up this time. It’s not his fault I mess up. He could win if it wasn’t for me. He’s right, I’m nothing. Nothing!” Chloe explained, her voice quivering as tears overtook her, her legs dissolving as her mind shut down and she fainted.
Sergei watched her eyes start to close and rushed the remaining distance to her side, scooping her into his arms and lifting her effortlessly long before she hit the ground. Leaving crutches and bags littered on the front lawn, he carried her swiftly up the walkway, calling for his father as he went and nudged the screen door open with one foot. Stepping inside, the coolness of the house and the familiar scents of home assailed him and he looked into Chloe’s unconscious face, willing her silently to open her eyes and smile at him, realize she was safe.
Aleksei peeked over the upstairs railing and saw his son, holding an unconscious Chloe in his arms and hurried down the stairs. “What the hell happened?” he asked, gently placing his fingers against her neck, and felt her pulse beating strongly against his hand, checked her pupils and found them normal.
Sergei shook his head, “I don’t know. She started mumbling about competitions and Andrew and the next thing I knew, she was folding.”
“Did she fall?”
“No, I got to her before she got that far.”
“Good.” Aleksei nodded, “Take her upstairs and lay her down. My guess is her body’s dictating
Chloe looked uncertainly toward the brick structure that made up the Rocmanov home. Large, but not overly imposing, the two-story structure was colonial style in nature, but boasted a full wraparound porch, now filled with inviting chairs with comfy cushions that just screamed sit down and relax. Numerous planters of brightly colored flowers hung from the high rafters, their scents mingling sweetly.
The structure was completely made of a soft peach-tone brick, with dozens of windows, all gleaming brightly in the afternoon sun. With the mild temperatures, the windows were opened, the gentle breeze billowing the sheer curtains that granted privacy but allowed air to sweep them gracefully about in the dancing breeze.
Chloe had spent more time in this house, as a child, than she had in her own home, and yet, she felt as if she were seeing it for the first time. For a split second she felt safe and welcome, the way she had felt as a child, and then the vision of Andrew’s face filled with rage, and his hateful words, ‘ You’re fucking nothing’ , rushed over her and her blood went cold.
“I shouldn’t be here,” Chloe whispered, she felt so cold, cold all the way to her bones, could almost feel her blood sliding to a stop. Her eyes held a fearful wildness as she looked around, seeking an escape. “Andrew’s waiting for me. I can’t be late,” she whimpered, her body beginning to shake.
Sergei heard the pain and fear in her voice and struggled to keep his tone light, his voice calm, “You’re off the ice for a while. Remember, Chloe?” he asked, dropping the bags to the ground without thought, ignoring the sound of breaking glass, walking slowly the few steps toward Chloe where she struggled to remain upright, her balance vanishing on the uneven walkway.
“But the competition, I can’t miss the competition. I promised Andrew I wouldn’t mess up this time. It’s not his fault I mess up. He could win if it wasn’t for me. He’s right, I’m nothing. Nothing!” Chloe explained, her voice quivering as tears overtook her, her legs dissolving as her mind shut down and she fainted.
Sergei watched her eyes start to close and rushed the remaining distance to her side, scooping her into his arms and lifting her effortlessly long before she hit the ground. Leaving crutches and bags littered on the front lawn, he carried her swiftly up the walkway, calling for his father as he went and nudged the screen door open with one foot. Stepping inside, the coolness of the house and the familiar scents of home assailed him and he looked into Chloe’s unconscious face, willing her silently to open her eyes and smile at him, realize she was safe.
Aleksei peeked over the upstairs railing and saw his son, holding an unconscious Chloe in his arms and hurried down the stairs. “What the hell happened?” he asked, gently placing his fingers against her neck, and felt her pulse beating strongly against his hand, checked her pupils and found them normal.
Sergei shook his head, “I don’t know. She started mumbling about competitions and Andrew and the next thing I knew, she was folding.”
“Did she fall?”
“No, I got to her before she got that far.”
“Good.” Aleksei nodded, “Take her upstairs and lay her down. My guess is her body’s dictating
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