Chapter 3
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Her clothes lay carefully pressed on the frilled sheets of her bed, the sun casting artfully arranged shadows throughout the comfortable room, as it began to set for the night. She stood in the centre, her chaotic expression a contrast in the obscenely neat room. Her hands jerkily reached for the shirt, sliding it with ease over her head, a pair of slim fitting blank pants quickly following, only to be shed and instant later. �What the hell am I doing?� She whispered aloud, her voice cracking in the stillness. Neatly, her fingers folded the clothes, slipping them back into the drawer. It was a bad idea. It had to be a bad idea. She flung herself into a chair, flicking on the television, trying to ignore the silent prodding of her mind. As always during the competitive season, her remote was locked on the sports network. Worlds. It seemed like forever ago, she thought sadly, her mind taking her back to that single moment in time� ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ The crowd roared, on their feet before they had even obtained their final position. She felt paralyzed, not wanting to move, wanting to savour the moment, her eyes clouding with unshed happy tears. They stood slowly, the sound of the crowd dimming, until all that was left was each other� they embraced, their arms tightening. Her voice, almost as though it belonged to someone else, whispering, �Thank you.� She didn�t want to let go. ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ She was jolted out of reminiscing with the sound of the commentator�s voice, �We have had a great number of champions over the years, and today, we will be taking the time to look back at some of history�s greatest skates�� She tuned him out, his voice going unregistered, as she caught her own image staring back from the television. Dominic. A sign. It had to be a sign. As though in a dream, she once again slipped into her planned clothes; the whiteness of her knuckles the only sign of just how nervous she was. A second letter had arrived only days before, simply stating his room number, and departure date. Nothing more. He was leaving in the morning. Last chance. It was her last chance. Each night, she had talked herself into an outfit, had talked herself into her car - had even talked herself to the hotel. She hadn�t gone in. But if she avoided t, if she continued holding back, she would lose him all over again. And that was something she couldn�t handle. A horn blared behind her, and she realized the light had been green for some time. Biting off a curse, she quickly pressed her foot to the gas, trembling. She could see the hotel looming in the distance, and her mind was racing with the concept of what she was about to do. She parked the rusty car, unable to move, frozen for what seemed like forever. It was a nice hotel, she thought, her mind desperately searching for a neutral topic. Get up, she ordered herself silently, just go in, it�s not that hard, you just open the door, use your feet, walk. But it WAS hard. She knew it. Because she was scared. �Breathe.� She whispered. �Just breathe and walk. Go.� Her fingers hovered on the door handle. A light tap on her window made her jump. �Excuse me dear, but are you all right?� An elderly woman stood outside, looking oddly at her. She blushed. Caught talking to herself� lovely. �I�m fine.� She replied, unable to meet the woman�s eyes. The lady merely shook her head, moving away while muttering something about the crazy young people of the world. She sighed, opening the car door and walking toward the hotel with a hesitant step. She glanced down once more at the paper she held in her hand, although it wasn�t necessary. She had known the numbers from the first moment she had read them. Room three fifteen. The elevator moved slowly. With trembling fingers, her hand lay in wait, poised to knock. Her breath came shallowly. She wasn�t sure she could do it. She drew her arm back. Stopped. No. She had to do it. She rapped on the door quickly, before she could think about what she was doing. Her mind screamed for her to run. Her heart warned her to stay. She could hear the footsteps. One, two three, they were at the door. Her breath caught. Dominic. Their eyes met. Held. Electricity sparked. A hand, so much larger than her own, tentatively reached out. �Ally� oh God� thank you, thank you� I was scared that� thank you.� The words were wrenched from him, as though he could not hold them in. �Dominic.� Her hand trembled as she felt his touch. Dominic. Her Dominic, her Nick. His touch. Him.
