My hand hovers over Dr. Hausen’s door. I know it’s not too late to change my mind, turn around, and go. She doesn’t know I’m here, and that’s both a blessing and a curse. A blessing because it means there’s no expectations. A curse because it means I don’t have to go in there.

But I do. I know in my heart I do.

So I knock on her door with three short, sharp taps.

“Come in,” she calls.

Slowly, I push the door open and step inside the office I know so well. From the motivational quotes framed on the walls to the comfy red armchairs and the mahogany furniture. It’s all comforting.

“Abbi,” she says, surprise in her voice. “I wasn’t expecting to see you today.”

“I wasn’t expecting to come here,” I admit. “But I need to talk to you ... Ask you something.”

She tilts her head to the side, lowering her glasses. “On or off your record?”

“On.”

“Take a seat.”

Questions are coming off her in waves as she gets my file and sits opposite me. She opens it, grabs her favorite clicky pen, and settles back in her chair.

“What do you need to ask?”

“You said my recovery would be at my pace, and within reason, I had control of it.”

“I did.”

I swallow. “Okay. Well, I want to change something.”

Dr. Hausen sits up straight. “What would you like to change?”

“My medication.”

She pauses. “Alright. You’ve got my attention.”

I cross my legs and look directly at her. “I don’t think I need the highest dose anymore. I think – no, I know, I’m coping better than I was before. I still get the nightmares and flashbacks, but I can deal with them now. I don’t feel as if I rely on the pills anymore. They’re like a safety net for me and my emotions now instead.”

“And you don’t think that safety net is a good thing?” She scrawls something on her pad.

“No, it is. But I don’t think I need one as big. I’d like to think I could maybe catch myself before I needed that net.” I look down and pick at a tiny hole in my leggings. “I mean, you said I was stronger than most people in here, right? You said I was the one that could fight it and get better. How can I fight it if there’s a wall of cotton wool around me? As long as the pills are there, keeping my crazy in check, I won’t be able to fight it. They’ll always cushion the fall.”

“You realize leaving them behind is a gradual process, don’t you? It’s not something that happens overnight. In your case, it may take a year before you’re fully weaned from them.”

“I know that. I’m not saying I’m necessarily ready to give them up entirely. Actually, that’s quite a scary thought. I just think I’m ready to step back a little. Take back some of the control you believe I have.”

“I believe you have?”

“And me. I’ve come this far, haven’t I? I must have some control over my feelings and my depression. I’m still alive. I have to believe I can control whatever’s inside.”

Dr. Hausen is quiet for a long minute. I look up, and there’s a small smile on her face.

“You know your mind better than anyone else. I can look at you and make a medical evaluation, but only you can make a true one. If you believe you’re ready to lower your dosage, then I’m happy to put you down to the next one and see how you go. You know you can change back up anytime, don’t you?”

I nod.

“And our weekly sessions will remain that way for now. It’s even more important now. Even if all we do is have a coffee and chat about the weather.”

I nod again. “I understand. I just … I really feel like I’m ready.”

“I’ll get that arranged for tomorrow. I can call when they’re ready for you to pick up.”

“I’ll get Dad to come by when he finishes work tomorrow night.”

“That’ll work. Was that all?”

“Yep.” I get up and walk toward the door with a slight bounce in my step. “Thank you.” I open it.

“Abbi?”

I look over my shoulder. “Yes?”

Dr. Hausen looks at me, her pen spinning between her fingers. “I have to ask … What’s changed?”

I smile slowly and genuinely. “I stopped existing and started living.”

 

~

 

I fall into Blake’s arms in the wings after our dance. My feet lift off the floor as he spins me, my face buried in his neck. I can’t fight the smile on my face – it’s been too long since I stepped foot on a real stage and danced below the bright lights without a care in the world. It’s been a long, long time since I felt that at home.

That alone is the best birthday present anyone could have given me.

Blake squeezes me tightly, pressing his lips to the side of my head. “I hope your mum recorded that like she said she would.”

“Why?”

“Because I want to send it to my mum to piss her off,” he mumbles into my hair. I laugh, pulling back.

“Mature, Blake. Real mature.”

“Oh well.” He shrugs, looking down at me with those green eyes of his. Green eyes that suddenly have a mischievous twinkle in them. “Are you ready?”

“Ready for what?” I narrow my eyes.

“To get out of here. We have a place to go.”

“We do?”

He nods and puts his hand against my cheek. “I still owe you a birthday present.”

“Blake.”

“No, Abs. I’ve got you something, but you can absolutely blame Maddie if you hate it because she organized it all. However, if you love it, you should know it was all my idea.”

I grin. “Okay. I’m not gonna win here. Where is my present?”

“It’s an hour and a half away.”

“That’s … Quite a way.”

“But it’ll be worth it.” He takes my hand and leads me to the back of the theatre to the dressing rooms. “Meet me at the back door in ten minutes. Oh, and give me your car keys.”

“What?” I squeak. “Why the hell do you need my keys?”

“I don’t, and neither do you. I’m going to give them to your mum.”

“Why?”

“Just hand them over.”

“Okay, hang on.” I run into my dressing room, grab my keys from my purse, and smack them into his hand. “I’m starting to get worried about this present, you know.”

“Don’t be,” he says as he backs away from me. “Ten minutes.”

I take a deep breath and nod, then shut the door. My brain is whirring with thoughts of what he could have planned, but none of them seem realistic.

And here was me thinking I’d got to nine p.m. without a big fuss. I should be so lucky.

I change from my ballet clothes into my normal ones and pack all my things away. A quick glance around the dressing room reveals I have everything, so I run down the stairs to the back door. Blake’s waiting there, two bags in hand – his ballet bag, and another one.

“What’s that?” I point to the bag. “Hey, is that mine?”

He smirks. “Come on.”

My eyes narrow as I follow him out toward a silver Ford. “You don’t have a car,” I state.

“Correct. I hired this.”

“You hired a car? What are you? A car employer?”

“Uh … Do you say rented? ‘Cause this is a hire car to me.”

“Yep. We say rented.” I smirk. He’s so cute. “Freakin’ British.”

Blake’s fingers brush mine as he takes my dance bag from me, his lips curved on one side. “Bloody Americans,” he whispers, his eyes boring into mine. He takes the bag and throws it in the trunk, slamming the top down. “Are you getting in?” he asks, walking to the passenger side.

I swallow my smile, fighting my complete and utter amusement, and cross my arms over my chest. “I’d love to, but I don’t have the keys.”

“You don’t need the keys. I’m driving.”

“Not from the passenger side you’re not.”

He looks down, pausing for a moment, and drops his forehead onto the roof of the car. I giggle into my hands.

“Goddamn it. You’re all backwards over here!” he cries, walking round the front of the car.

I climb in the passenger side and turn my face toward him. “Just, for God sake, don’t forget we drive on the other side of the road to you guys, too.”

“Why did I ever think this was a good idea?”

I grin. “I told you not to worry.”

He grunts and starts the car up. He eyes the space where a gear stick would be. “Now I’m really glad Maddie made me go for an automatic. I don’t think I could use a gear stick with my right hand.”

“All our rentals are automatic.”

He looks at me. “You know how confusing you guys are, right?”

“Yep. Are you sure you can drive this and get us wherever the hell we’re going in one piece?”

“I’m sure. Now, do me a favor and go to sleep or something.”

I put my belt on and settle back in my chair as he backs out of the parking lot. “When I’ve made sure you’re on the right side of the road.”

“Or the wrong side,” he mutters. “Depends how you look at it.”

I cover my smile with my hand. “You know where we’re going, right?”

He nods. “Google maps. Works every time. Go to sleep, Abbi.”

 

~

 

The soft brush of Blake’s lips across mine wakes me. I smile, stretching out in my seat.

“Are we here?” I flop my head to the side and look at him through sleepy eyes.

He leans over and brushes some hair from my face. “Yes, we’re here.”

“Um … Where is here?”

“We’re in the Poconos Mountains,” Blake says quietly and opens my door for me.

“We’re not even in New York state?” My eyebrows shoot up.

“No. But before you say anything else, I want you to do one thing.”

If it’s possible, my eyebrows go even higher.

“Look up.”

I do. I tilt my head back, and in the darkness, the complete and utter consuming darkness that surrounds us, the night sky is bright with lights of its own creation. The stars are brighter and bigger than I’ve ever seen them, hundreds of thousands of lights breaking through the darkness.

“Oh,” I breathe out, spinning around. They’re everywhere, twinkling even through the leaves of the tallest trees. “They’re beautiful … But why here?”

Blake takes my hands in his. “You can hide in plain sight here. It’s a giant, never-ending Prospect Park. And the stars? Well … The stars, the things you never see in Brooklyn, they’re the things everyone never sees about you. And more importantly, they’re the tiny specks of light you hold on to inside, just outside. The sky is your depression and the stars are the things that keep you going when you feel the darkness closing in on you. I wanted to give you a visual, something you can keep forever and look at whenever it gets hard.”

He drops my hands and reaches into the back seat of the car.

“What are you …” I stop talking when I see the camera in his hands. “Something I can keep forever,” I repeat in quiet awe. My tear-filled eyes meet his as he places it in my shaky hand.

“And look at whenever it gets hard. That’s my present for you.”

“Hope.” The tears creep out of the corners of my eyes. “You’re giving me hope.”

Blake wipes away the wetness falling down my cheeks. “I’m giving you another reason to live.”

I turn my cheek into his palm and close my hand over his. “You gave me that the day you walked into Bianca’s studio. I just didn’t know it then.”