Reclaimed My Stage, Left Him Kneeling in the Rain Chapter 05
Rhys stood at the nurses’ station.
His hand froze before it reached the envelope, and all color left his face.
Before boarding, my phone vibrated without stopping.
Rhys sent message after message.
Rhys: [Brynn, stop this. Where are you?]
Rhys: [Why did you leave the hospital without telling anyone? How badly are your legs injured?]
Rhys: [Answer me as soon as you see this. Don’t make me angry.]
The dense wall of words on my screen looked absurd.
I ignored every message.
The flight attendant asked passengers to turn off electronic devices.
I looked through the window at Briarhaven’s lights.
For six years, I had imprisoned myself in a wheelchair and developed an unhealthy dependence on
the city and on Rhys.
Now that I was truly leaving, I felt only an empty calm.
The skyline below had once seemed like the limit of my world. As it receded, I realized that the
boundary had existed only because I accepted it.
The plane climbed above the clouds.
As the cabin pressure changed, the newly broken bones in my legs produced a sharp, unbearable
pain.
Igripped the armrests until my nails marked the leather.
My eyes burned, but I refused to cry.
The plane landed in Los Angeles before dawn.
I had left the hospital with fresh casts and no certainty that the institute would accept the damage from my second injury.
Dr. Adrian Wells, a leading neurorehabilitation specialist, waited at the gate with a powered medical wheelchair.
He carefully avoided my injuries and arranged the airport’s medical-assistance route.
The day Rhys agreed to choreograph Sienna’s solo, I had secretly applied to Adrian’s
nerve-regeneration program.
Adrian asked no unnecessary questions and escorted me directly to the Pacific Neurorehabilitation
Institute.
An unfamiliar city passed outside the car window.
I did not know the streets, the buildings, or the people, but none of them carried memories of Rhys
choosing Sienna over me.
When I turned on my phone, I found dozens of missed calls from Rhys and his assistant, Caleb
Foster.
Rhys had sent one final message.
Rhys: [Stop being angry and come home. I promise I’ll never involve myself with Sienna again.)
Nausea rose in my throat.
I blocked Rhys and everyone connected to him.
Then I deleted six years of messages and digital memories.
Back in Briarhaven, Rhys opened our front door.
Only silence greeted him.
Every piece of my clothing and every personal item was gone.
On the coffee table, I had left the National Dance Championship gold medal I once treasured, the award I won with his choreography.
My signed engagement termination agreement lay beneath it.
The medal had represented the highest point of our partnership. Leaving it behind told him that I rejected the achievement along with the man attached to it.
Rhys stood there without speaking.
Sienna called three times to complain.
He looked around the empty room and rejected every call.
With shaking hands, he removed the broken wheelchair axle from the envelope.
Its sharp edge cut deeply into his palm.
Blood dripped onto the agreement and landed directly on my signature.
Rhys finally seemed to understand.
He called me repeatedly.
Only a recorded disconnection message answered.
The woman he believed could never leave had erased every route back to her.
He hurled the phone against the wall.
Surrounded by broken glass, Rhys sank to the floor, covered his face, and sobbed.
