Chapter 6

Kimberly drank in the sight of Tommy's broad shoulders like a woman who'd been too long without water. He was taller than he'd been at seventeen, and his still impressive physique had been honed by years of continued martial arts. She hadn't realized how much she'd wanted to see him until she'd stepped out on the stage across from him. She'd forced herself not to look, afraid of what would be read in her face.

It wasn't the sight of him, however, that had caused her pulse to race; it was the simple touch of his hand, that firm, reassuring grip she'd missed, as it pulled her to her feet.

Her heart aching from the strain she could see in his posture. She'd done this, she realized. Her, by her past actions, had lost the easy friendship they'd once shared. The easy camaraderie. Even now she could feel a glimmer of it, but it was buried under years of unknowns. Years of heartache and pain.

He didn't continue and she realized he was waiting for her to say something more. She licked her lips, her mouth feeling dry, the words tasting like ash in her mouth. There was so much she wanted to say, so many apologies to make, but she couldn't. Her mouth wouldn't cooperate.

She took a step towards him, saw his shoulders tense, but didn't stop there. She'd felt his arm around her, the reassuring presence she'd always loved about him. The way he made her feel safe, protected, but not smothered. He'd done everything he could to support her and she'd turned on him like he was trash at the first opportunity.

Tears flooded her eyes; she didn't deserve him. She wrapped her arms around her own waist in a protective gesture. Her voice broke when she was finally able to get the words past dry lips. "I'm sorry, Tommy. I never should have hurt you. So, so sorry."

He turned finally, as if the sound of her words had flicked a switch, and she was suddenly in his arms, cradled against his chest. "Don't cry, Kim. Please don't cry."

She clung to him, relishing the feel of it, drawing strength from his grip. She sobbed against him, burying her face in his shoulder even as she fought the guilty knowledge that it should be she comforting him. Then, he surprised her a second time by lifting her in his arms and onto his lap as he sat in one of the chairs. His lips grazed her temple, an action as familiar as it was foreign - comforting her though he said no words.

But he did speak, and it took her a moment to realize that the words weren't the harsh, accusations she'd been expecting.

Tommy cradled Kimberly against him, rocking her gently. Her sobs were familiar to him - he'd cried enough in her absence - that he couldn't be mad at her. She was telling him without words everything she regretted. That she never should have hurt him and never should have left. That she'd made her share of mistakes and leaving him had been one.

Wishful thinking might have played a part in his observations, but he didn't think so. Kimberly clung to him like a woman who was drowning. He spoke without thinking, keeping his tone soothing. Even after all she'd done to him, he couldn't stand to see her hurting.

"It's alright, Kim." He gently stroked her back, letting his lips graze her temple in a lingering caress. "Everything's okay, I promise. Please don't cry; I can't stand to see you hurt."

She was unable to stop, his kindness - one she clearly didn't feel she deserved - simply fueling the flames of her guilt and pain.

His hand was gentle as he lifted his palm from her back and ran it carefully over her head, the silken feel of her hair drawing a shudder from deep within. He was touching her, feeling her and it took some convincing that this wasn't some kind of dream.

"I never thought I'd ever get to hold you again, Kim," the words slipped out on a harsh whisper before he realized what he was saying. "I only hoped it wouldn't be like this. You're killing me, beautiful. I hurt because you do."

"B-beautiful?" She almost choked on the word, lifting her gaze to his hesitantly. "I never thought you'd ever call me that again after what I did to you, Tommy."

He gently wiped her tears away, feeling his own eyes brimming. "You've never stopped being beautiful to me, Kim, and you never will."

"How can you say that?" She pulled away, pushing to her feet as she dashed additional tears from her eyes. "I hurt you; don't deny it, I know I did. How can you even think I'm beautiful after the ugly things I did?"

"You sent me a letter."

"It's called a Dear John letter, Tommy. It's a breakup letter, the coward's way out." The words were full of guilt and self-loathing even as she wrapped her arms once more about her own waist. It was a protective gesture he hadn't seen her use around him before. "And I took it; I wrote it, I sent it, and you're telling me it's no big deal?" She shook her head. "You dropped off the face of the earth after that - you weren't there when I needed you."

"When you needed me." He settled back in the chair, refusing to get into an argument. He felt drained, exhausted by the mental build up to this moment that had left him nothing more than the desire to get it over with and move on. "Whatever happened to mister wonderful, kind and caring?"

She paled as her voice dropping to a whisper. "He left me when I chose gymnastics instead of moving away with him."

"I'm sorry Kim." And he was. At least if she'd stayed with the guy he could have felt good for her. As it was, the knowledge that he'd been tossed aside for someone who'd only gone on to do the same thing to her was bittersweet. "Did he send you a letter?"

She flinched, taking the blow with a quick shake of her head.

Bitterness was a sour taste in his mouth. "Good. It's a lousy way to get dumped."

"Tommy, I-"

"Don't, Kim." He held up his hand, stopping her and cutting off whatever she'd been about to say. "You have to know I wasn't there for you because I didn't want to be. I had my own life to put back together."

"Did you?" The words were full of yearning, the desire to know he'd recovered from the blow despite the harshness she was being subjected to.

"Mostly." His smile was faint and lacking warmth. "I resented you a long time for denying me the chance at closure."

"And now?"

He finally gained his feet, looking down at her, certain she could read every emotion he'd felt since her desertion on his face. "I never stopped looking."

Kimberly felt awful.

She'd spent four years resenting the fact that Tommy had moved beyond her, as she'd tried to do with him and failed only to find out she'd been wrong. Horribly wrong. Sure, she'd accomplished her goal, but at what cost? The man before her was everything she'd ever wanted. Both friend and lover, confidant and playmate - happiness had simply happened with him, not had to be worked for. It hadn't been a chore but a daily miracle.

And she'd turned her back on him only to be hurt when he seemed to do the same for her. Looking for closure - was it possible there was something to salvage? Something she could retain after all the years apart? She searched his gaze and her lips split into a tentative smile. "Did you really search for closure?"

He nodded, watching her warily. "It was kind of hard to get without you."

"And now?" She had to repeat the question - he hadn't really answered it the first time. "Do you still resent me?"

His hand lifted to brush the backs of his fingers over the smoothness of her cheek. "Only from afar; When you're this close, I feel like we could just... pick up where we left off."

She grabbed his hand, holding it tightly, like a life-line. "Could we, Tommy? Could we really just start from where we were and forget the last five years ever happened?"

He stared at her, his eyes blank, and she thought for a minute she'd overstepped her boundaries. They weren't even friends; they were simply exes who should never have been exes. His eyes cleared, but she didn't see what she wanted to see.

"I can never forget, Kim, but if you explain, I might be able to forgive."

An explanation. He deserved one and she nodded, letting his hand go reluctantly. "Alright. But it will have to wait until after the race."

"After the show." His correction was accompanied with a half-smile. "I don't have to race today."

"Yes you do." She countered with a knowing look and unconsciously slipping into old habits. "There are hundreds of fans who look up to you out there in the stands who'd be disappointed if you didn't race. Think of Fred; don't you think he'd want to see you race today?"

"After the race," his concession was reluctant.

Kimberly could see that the fact she'd agreed to talk to him, to explain what had happened four years ago, and to give him the closure he'd searched for was a weight off his shoulders. He was obvious loathe to put it off for even five minutes, let along five hours, but she knew that he knew she was right. It gave her hope that not only could they close that chapter in their lives, but possibly open a new one.

She checked her appearance in the mirror provided in the small room. Her eyes were slightly red and puffy and her face was flushed from her crying bout. It couldn't be helped now.

"Kim?"

She turned to face him again, her heart skipping a beat as his smile - the one she'd missed so much - appeared.

"My place; don't be late."