The Right Moves (The Game #3)(8)
Author: Emma Hart

“Why do you think that is?”

Because I hate the old Abbi. I hate that she never stood up for herself. I hate that she let Pearce walk all over her, abuse her, defile her. I hate that he made her a shadow of the person she was. I hate the fact she let him ruin her life.

“Because I wanted to separate the past from the present,” I half-lie, scratching behind my ear.

“And the rest?”

“The rest?”

“You’re scratching behind your ear.” Dr. Hausen’s lips twitch as she relaxes back into her chair. “Abbi, I haven’t been your psychiatrist for a year and not picked up on your habit. You scratch behind your ear when you’re keeping something from me. Usually I let you keep it inside, but this time, I want to know. I want you to tell me the whole reason.”

I push myself from the plush armchair I’m so accustomed to and walk over to the large window. Her office overlooks St. Morris’s gardens, and I look towards the apple trees filling with tiny apples.

“I don’t know what you mean.” I fold my arms across my chest so I don’t scratch my ear. Damn. I’ll have to remember that.

“So unfold your arms and sit back down.”

I swallow, silently counting the apples I can see on the tree. “I… I didn’t want anything to do with the person I was. What happened – what he did to me, what I did to myself – it changed me. I don’t like the person I was. I don’t want anything that reminds me of her, so I changed it. Moving on. Going forward. You know. Isn’t that why I was released from here? So I could move on and forget everything?”

“There’s nothing good in forgetting. Remembering, although it hurts, is what you need to do. You need to take all the memories no matter how much they hurt and force them out. Even if it means reliving every single time he hurt you and every single time you hurt yourself, you must remember. Forgetting isn’t the key to moving on. Remembering is, because only once we’ve remembered can we forget.”

“That makes no sense.”

“You can’t forget what you don’t know, Abbi. You can’t forget what you haven’t allowed yourself to know. All holding it back will do is keep you stuck in a limbo you have no control over.”

I glance over my shoulder at her. “I have control. I haven’t cut for months. I’ve wanted to, but I haven’t. I have control.”

My hands are shaking frantically as I look back out of the window. I blink to clear my eyes of the tears forming there. I feel like a frustrated toddler trying to get their point across without the necessary words.

I hear the shuffle as Dr. Hausen puts her papers down and the click of her heels on the hardwood floor.

“Abbi,” she says softly, laying a hand on my shoulder. “I know you have control. That is the reason you were allowed to leave St. Morris’s. Many people come here and never leave; for some reason some people don’t have the fight in them to push the darkness away. Some people will never get better, they’ll never fight their demons.

“But you? What you suffered was horrendous. Disgusting. I wish with every part of me you didn’t have to go through what you did, but I know you’re not one of those people. I know you have the fight in your tiny little body to push that darkness away. You are strong enough to remember everything you went through and still keep a hold on that light.

“Yes, I could have kept you institutionalized here. I could have kept you in your bland white room, kept your strict meal times, your group activities, your daily counseling sessions. But why? That wasn’t benefitting you. Not even I’m perfect, Abbi. I didn’t realize what you needed until you asked to dance – I didn’t realize how strong your desire to dance was until I saw you in the gym the first time. That’s why I let you leave.”

“But why? Bianca was happy to keep coming here. Why not keep me here where you had an eye on me? You know I still feel like I want to cut when it gets bad. You know how hard it is.” Tears stream down my cheeks, and Dr. Hausen turns me to her gently.

“Because, Abbi, you have something many of the others here don’t.”

“Which is?”

She bends down an inch or two so we’re face to face. “A dream. You have something to live for, something you couldn’t live for while you were locked up in here.”

“Why does that make such a difference?”

“Because you can only truly live for something once you’ve stared death in the eye. You’ve been close to death, close enough to touch, but you can still hold onto life because of your dream. You cannot appreciate everything until you’ve had nothing. That is the difference.”

~

The silence of the studio wraps around me, cocooning me in a blanket of security. Here is where I’m at home, with my foot on the barre and my head against my knee as I stretch out.

The emptiness of the studio is down to the fact I’m here half an hour early – before the ten minutes early Bianca demands of us. After seeing Dr. Hausen, I need to let off some steam before the class starts. Her room is so constricting, so suffocating, and I just need to feel free. Even if it’s for just a moment.

So I twist my braid into a bun, and I dance.

I leap and twirl and spin my way across the studio floor, dropping from pointe and raising back up again. My toes take a beating as I lose myself in the piece, my leg muscles tighten and my back arches when I stop for two seconds. Then I’m back into it. I’m back flying across the studio, the heaviness of my discussion with Dr. Hausen lifting a little more with every step, every plié, every turn.

And then, for one blissful second, I can’t feel a thing. All I can feel is the music. And in that second, I find a small piece of myself.

I find a tiny part of the fight Dr. Hausen told me was there. And I hold onto it as tightly as I can before the heaviness comes crashing in, weighing me back down again.

“Wow.”

My heart jumps into my throat as my body jumps back. I somehow stop myself from falling over by grabbing the barre, and look towards the piano. Blake is standing by the great black piano with his bag at his feet and his awe-filled eyes fixed on me.

I shift uncomfortably. “Uh, wow?”

“Yeah. You can dance, huh?”

“Really? I thought I was lost on my way to a take-out.” I tilt my head to the side slightly and my lips twitch.

“That came out kind of dumb.” He laughs at himself and grabs his bag, walking over to the corner and sitting down. “Obviously you can dance, that’s why you’re here, and I’ve danced with you so I know you can dance, but yeah. I’m just going to shut up, because I’m really digging myself a hole here.”