Falling for My Ex’s Brother

Selena Walker's POV

The night before the Spring Gala audition, I got a call from Jon Brown while crouching on my apartment floor, wrapping a bandage around my knee.

The music on his end was deafening. He had to shout my name several times before I could make out what he was saying.

"Selena, you have to come tonight. The sponsors are here. How bad would it look if you don't show up?"

I took a deep breath. A wave of exhaustion hit me so hard it nearly swallowed me whole. I kept my voice steady and explained, "Jon, I can't make it. I have an audition tomorrow, my knee is acting up, and I just want to get some rest tonight."

"Just come for a bit, show your face and leave. I'm begging you, okay?"

I hesitated.

He always knew exactly how to get to me.

I grew up in an orphanage. No family, no safety net. Jon was the first person who was ever kind to me.

When we first started dating, he'd wait for me at the rink every single day until I finished practice, rain or shine.

When people gave me a hard time, he stood up for me. He was the one solid thing I could lean on.

I just don't know when things started to change. He became distant, distracted. Half the time we went out, he couldn't hide how impatient he was.

I held on to that little bit of warmth for too long. Long enough to know better and still not let go.

"Fine. I'm on my way."

I hung up, threw on a jacket, and took a cab to the address Jon had sent.

The car stopped at the edge of the dock. I followed his directions to the yacht.

It was bigger than I expected. The white hull caught the night lights and glowed cold in the dark.

My knee was still aching with every step. The cabin door was half open, and music spilled out, pressing heavy against my chest.

I pushed the door open.

The lights were low. The smell of champagne mixed with something too sweet, too thick.

My eyes found the couch.

It was like someone had wrapped a hand around my throat.

The man I knew better than anyone had his arm around Eleanor Mitchell, a teammate from my same year.

They were kissing.

Jon's hand rested on her waist. I recognized the jacket. I'd bought it for him last month with my paycheck.

They were so caught up in each other. It hit me like a blade straight to the chest, sharp enough to knock the air out of me.

I walked in. The room went quiet for a beat.

Someone recognized me. People started murmuring.

Jon opened his eyes. The second he saw me, his expression shifted from something soft and drunk to pure panic.

"Selena, listen to me. We were just playing around."

Eleanor followed his gaze. She didn't pull away. She leaned further into him and let the corner of her mouth curl up.

She wasn't even trying to hide it.

The anger hit me fast and hard. I had no interest in hearing whatever Jon was about to say.

I walked straight over, picked up the open bottle on the table, and poured it over his head. The wine ran down through his hair and soaked into that jacket.

Eleanor screamed and jumped back. The wine splashed onto her dress. She said something sharp, but I didn't catch it.

Nobody laughed. The music cut out.

Jon shot to his feet, glaring at me.

"Selena, are you out of your mind?"

I didn't answer. I set the bottle down on the coffee table, calm as anything. The sound of glass hitting marble rang out in the silence.

"Jon, we're done."

I thought seeing him cheat would break me open. I thought I'd cry, shake, lose the ability to string a sentence together.

But when you've truly given up on something, what you feel is just quiet.

All those years. Written off.

I turned and walked out.

The silence behind me held for a long moment. Then Eleanor's voice drifted over, saying something. I didn't listen.

I didn't want to.

I didn't realize I was shaking until I got home. Not just my hands. My whole body felt like the blood had nowhere to go, and my heart was locked in a fist.

That's when the tears came. Soundless, sliding down my face.

I lay in bed with my eyes open, not moving.

There was a crack in the ceiling running from the light fixture to the corner of the wall. I stared at it for a long time.

The scene kept replaying in my head. Jon and Eleanor. Over and over, like a dull blade dragging across the same wound.

All the good he'd shown me, all the things I'd given, tangled together into something that just hurt.

I didn't sleep at all.

At five the next morning, I was up before the alarm.

The face in the mirror looked back at me with swollen eyes and deep circles underneath.

I changed into my training gear and rewrapped the bandage on my knee, pulling it tight, tight enough to go numb, like that might be enough to keep me sharp.

At the rink, my teammates were already warming up.

Eleanor was at the front of the group in a new competition outfit. When she saw me walk in, that same small smile crossed her face.

She raised her voice just enough for everyone to hear. "Oh, Selena's here. Rough night? You really think you can compete looking like that?"

"No parents, no one who wanted her. Of course she has to claw her way up."

"Seriously, after staying on the team this long, you have to wonder what she's been doing to keep her spot."

A few teammates laughed. Each one landed like something sharp.

I didn't look at her. Didn't say a word. I sat down on the bench and started lacing up my skates.

When Coach Pippa Olsen walked in, they went quiet and got to work.

Pippa came over to me and asked quietly, "Selena, how are you feeling?"

I nodded. "I'm fine, Coach Olsen. Just a little nervous."

Before I went on, I stood at the entrance to the ice and took three slow breaths.

The surface reflected the white lights overhead, bright enough to make me squint.

The stands had filled up. Coaching staff, sponsors, media.

One by one, the skaters took the ice.

When my turn came, I glided out to the center.

The music started, and everything else disappeared.

I couldn't let myself think. Not about any of it.

This was the only chance I had.

If I let myself think, I'd fall apart, right there on the ice, in front of everyone.

One thought only: jump. Hit every single thing.

I landed the triple axel and felt it the moment my blade touched down. A sharp, deep pain tore through my left knee, like something was being hammered between the bones. My body tilted, nearly went down.

My blade scraped a harsh line across the ice. I clenched my jaw, pulled myself back, steadied, pushed forward, and moved into the next element.

Coming out of a spin, I saw Jon.

I don't know when he'd arrived. He was standing next to Eleanor, but his eyes were locked on me.

I'd looked at that face for three years. I knew every part of it.

He was watching me with something he couldn't quite cover up.

Eleanor reached out to touch his arm. He stepped away from her.

Her face went rigid. Her hands curled into fists. The look she turned on me had gone somewhere darker.

The program ended. I bowed and skated to the boards.

The moment I stepped off the ice, the pain in my left knee came flooding back in waves, relentless.

I held onto the barrier for a while before I could walk slowly toward the locker room.

Behind me, voices dropped low.

"Selena was off today, but those jumps were something."

"Didn't she hurt her knee?"

"Yeah, but someone like her, crawling up from nothing, what choice does she have but to push herself?"

"Let's hope that knee doesn't go out on her completely. She might not just lose skating. She might end up limping for the rest of her life."

I didn't turn around.

I'd heard it all before.

Where she came from. The orphanage. Unwanted. From nothing. They always found the sharpest words they could, trying to nail me back down to the place they'd decided I belonged.

But I knew what had kept me here.

Not their approval.

The ice.

My scores.

The fact that every time I went down, I got back up.

The results were posted while I was sitting on the bench outside the locker room with an ice pack pressed to my knee.

Outside, it went quiet for a second.

Then someone said my name in a low voice.

"Selena. First place."

I looked up at the board.

At the top, clear as anything, was my name.

The triple axel had wobbled on the landing, but my execution score, the step sequence, and the program component score were still the highest in the room.

Eleanor stood at the front of the crowd, and I watched the color drain out of her face. Her fingers pressed hard into her palms.

Jon was there too.

He'd found a spot at the end of the hall without me noticing. His eyes moved past everyone else and stopped on me.

I knew that look.

He was already starting to regret it.

Too bad. Too late.

I looked away and pushed myself up along the wall.

The applause, the noise, Eleanor's expression, Jon's overdue stare. I left all of it on the other side of the locker room door.

The moment it closed, I finally let myself go. I sank back onto the bench.

My left knee was burning like something inside it was on fire. The pain came fast enough to break a cold sweat across my forehead.