Home > Color Me Pretty(53)

Color Me Pretty(53)
Author: B. Celeste

I’d been practicing at Tiffany’s when she was at Judith’s at least three times a week. More if I really needed to escape, whether that was at my apartment, here, or the warehouse, succumbing to the burn of my muscles and lungs as I pushed harder and harder. Today was the first time I’d watched myself in the mirror to study my footwork, and it was hard to see the hollow of my cheeks and the bags under my eyes, but they’d been expected with how many hours I’d put into getting the routine down while sleeping no more than three hours on my best nights. I knew I was going too far but I couldn’t stop because the fire building in my chest had spread everywhere and it took over all the other unwanted feelings of hatred and sadness long enough for me to feel like I was halfway normal.

“How did you find me?” I reached for the towel I’d draped on the barre in front of the mirrors and wiped off my face before squatting to pick up my shirt to slide on. He’d seen me in far less, but that didn’t mean I wanted him seeing me now. Not when I was vulnerable.

He pushed off the door. “Dallas.”

I frowned. Dallas had offered to drive me because it was raining today. Normally, I caught a ride with Tiffany or got an Uber that way I didn’t bother him. With his newborn, which he’d showed me countless photos of over the past few weeks, I wanted to make sure he had as much family time as possible. “Why are you here?” I hadn’t meant to say it so rudely, but I wanted to be alone. All week, I’d wanted to stay to myself. Dance. Practice. Repeat. Get the routine down without one mistake.

He didn’t step into the studio, just looked at me with watchful, curious eyes. “Want to go to Denny’s and get breakfast?”

He wanted to get breakfast? My stomach rumbled to life, but I told myself to give an excuse to get out of it.

“I need to shower…” I glanced down at the way my clothes clung to my overheated, sweaty body. I’d driven myself farther than I had since Tiffany and I started, but I almost had the entire dance down because of it. If I could get out of my head, I’d stop mis-stepping, but there was always something lurking in the back of my mind that weakened my walls.

Theo didn’t relent though. “Breakfast at my house then. Ramsay misses you.”

I blew out a breath. “Does he?”

There was a pause. “I miss you too, Della.” His words went straight to my heart causing it to beat a little faster, a little harder, drumming to a tune that beckoned him forward.

“I don’t think it’s a good idea,” I admitted quietly, turning off the music and gripping my water bottle.

“Since when has anything we’ve done been a good idea lately?” The lighthearted smirk on his lips told me he was teasing. It was a conversation we’d had before but beat around. When we’d meet up, we’d kiss, we’d touch, we’d do a lot of things, but I hadn’t had sex with him since he cooked us dinner. My mind racing with thoughts of my imperfections had me lying to Theo and telling him I was on my period. He’d bought me chocolate and gave me a shoulder massage, never once pushing. I knew I needed to tell him that I couldn’t find the energy even though sleeping with Theo brought my body to life in ways that had been dormant before.

I didn’t want that feeling though. I wanted to be numb. My mind begged me to stay away from anything that made me feel like there was hope or else I’d be too far gone when I realized there was none.

My tongue swiped across my bottom lip in hesitation. We both knew he spoke the truth, but the allure to his words still didn’t make me want to jump on the opportunity. Not like it normally would. That was when I knew…

Maybe I already was too far gone.

He finally took a large step into the space I occupied, one hand out of his pocket and scrubbing his jawline. “There’s something I’d like to talk with you about. About your father.”

Lips parting, I inhaled shakily. “What?”

Head dipping once, he said, “Come on. Pancakes, eggs, you name it. Come home with me.”

Home. My stomach dropped. “So, we can talk about…my dad?” I shook my head. “I’m okay with not doing that over eggs.”

“Pancakes then?”

Gnawing on the inside of my cheek, I let my shoulders ease enough for him to see me relenting. “Chocolate chip. And bacon.” I walked past him into the light rain, my stomach screaming over the idea of food even though my brain yelled, NO! “None of that fake syrup crap, Theo. I mean it.”

I heard his chuckle and promptly ignored it as Dallas’s black car came into view.

When I climbed in, Dallas gave me an apologetic look from the rearview. “Sorry, Della. He insisted.”

Theo climbed in beside me, not looking sorry at all. In fact, there was anything but apology on his face. Awe, amusement, care. He looked at me like he always had, but it was more intense. Stronger. Different.

And today, I surprised him.

I danced.

It made me smile despite that haunting feeling in the back of my mind as I stared out the backseat window. I ignored the other two people in the vehicle who made small talk while I thought about what this meant, because I danced and I loved it, but I also danced because I hated myself.

I wanted that pain. The feel of my legs giving out and my lungs on their last breath. I wanted to escape into a world where I could hurt myself rather than letting everybody else do it for me.

I saw Dallas glance at me again from the rearview mirror and realized…

He saw too much.

 

The food was left untouched in front of me with two sets of eyes on me for very different reasons. One of them was more intense than the other. I broke apart a piece of bacon and fed it to Ramsay while Theo watched silently across the table. He didn’t like it when the dog was close by while we ate. It’d been a little while since I’d seen Ramsay, so I wanted to spoil him like I knew Theo did when I wasn’t here.

“You haven’t eaten,” he noted.

I glanced at his plate. “Neither have you.”

“It’s the real maple syrup.”

My lips twitched. Moving my eyes from Ramsay to Theo, I rested back in my chair and picked up my fork. Wet pieces of my hair fell against my cheek that I refused to move because they shielded part of my vision. I’d taken a much longer shower in his master bathroom than I’d intended, but the scalding water felt so good against my sore muscles. I stood under the too-hot water until my skin was red and prayed that every bad feeling I had about myself would wash away. But when I stepped out, I looked at myself in the mirror before I could grab a towel and frowned.

Frowned at my body.

Frowned at my thoughts.

I’d wanted to put my fist through the reflection that taunted me, but I didn’t. I didn’t want Theo to think I was losing it. That my anxiety had peeked, that the medication I was on wasn’t working, and that I’d have to admit to Ripley I probably needed something different. Something stronger. Stronger medication meant the problem had peeked like the hill and valley my disorder was.

Shifting in my seat, I poked at the section of pancake that had the most chocolate chips. “I take it work has been busy?” He hadn’t reached out in a few days, which was fine by me. It was easier to avoid him when he was avoiding me first. The guilt didn’t eat at me that way.

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