Release (Off Balance 3)

"There's nothing to apologize for."

I sniffled, and she gave me a few minutes to get myself together.

"If this is lupus, if there’s something severely wrong with me…" One thought kept floating through my mind. One fear. One worry. One concern. I didn’t want to know but I had to ask. "What does this mean for my future in gymnastics?"

"Lupus is debilitating and sucks the energy and life force from you. It weakens you, hinders your physical, and sometimes mental, well-being. Most people with an autoimmune can’t do what you do, yet you have been, which makes proper diagnosing a bit more complicated. As I said, this is all speculation until we do more testing."

"But you think it’s lupus," I stated. "Or possibly something worse."

"I prefer facts and data over probabilities." She handed me the lab sheet. "Go to the lab first thing tomorrow. You’ll have to fast again, nothing after midnight."

I looked down at the form. My mind a scattered mess. Nothing made sense and suddenly I was filled with all these worries and fears I couldn't stop myself from thinking about.

"In the meantime," she continued, "I want you to take iron supplements and increase your water intake. You can try an antihistamine to see if it clears up the rash."

I hopped off the exam table and she walked me to the door. "Oh, and please check in with your orthopedic doctor. The littlest tear can lead to the greatest injury."

Within thirty minutes, I was at home and sitting on my couch reading over everything I needed to know about lupus. My chest tightened with anxiety and I clicked out of the websites I'd been reading online. Every single thing I’d thought was a result of training too hard, was in fact a symptom of lupus. All of it. And the worst part was knowing what lupus could lead to if left untreated.

I sat back and dropped my cell phone on the couch, and let out a deep sigh. The silence was a roar in my ears. I had so many questions swirling around in my head.

Standing up, I walked into the bathroom and flipped the light on. I looked at my reflection and touched my cheek. There was a soft, petal-pink rash. I looked down at the counter and noticed all the stray hairs. There seemed to be more each day, and I wondered how the hell I wasn’t bald by now. I looked back at the mirror and wondered about my real mom. Wondered if I would ever find out the truth about her, and if she was where this autoimmune shit came from.

How could I be sick and not know it? No! I let out a loud huff and shook my head. There was nothing wrong with me. I felt fine, just worn out because I was stubborn and pushed myself too hard.

I turned off the light and returned to the living room for my cell phone. I glanced at the time, seeing that it was still early in the day. I hesitated, torn between wanting to know more and not believing there was anything wrong with me. Either way I needed to talk to my dad. I needed real answers about my birth mom that only he could answer. I knew he had to know something. There was no way my dad, of all people, didn't have some type of information on her.

I looked at the time again and decided to skip practice. I was going to drive back to Palm Beach. My dad couldn’t evade me if I was in his face.

I shot a quick text to Kova before grabbing my purse and keys.

Me: Blood work came back normal. All good here. I'll see you tomorrow.

Coach: Do not think I will not call your father and ask him for the results.

My blood simmered in my chest. He may be my emergency contact, but he wasn’t privy to any results.

Me: I'm not like you, I don't lie. Plus I'm on my way to see him now.

It didn't take long until I was on the highway. My phone chimed and I picked it up from the cup holder to see who it was. Kova. I wasn't one to text and drive so I placed my phone back until I could stop and read it. Another three messages came in, but I ignored them. If he really wanted to talk to me, he could call.

I wasn't sure how I was going to get my blood work done if I planned to be at practice bright and early tomorrow, but I'd figure it out. I guess I could "accidentally" sleep in and Kova would never know I lied. Actually, attending the camp and going to the doctor at the same time was a blessing in disguise. I could ask for one more day to rest, and I had a feeling he'd give it to me.

* * *

Driving on a long stretch of the highway for a few hours cleared my mind. Typically I didn't love to drive, but this was freeing and released a lot of the anxiety that caused tension in my neck, something I needed to remember. Especially when it came to Kova.

I pulled into the driveway and immediately looked for Joy's car. My stomach was tossing and turning—it'd been months since I'd seen her—and I wondered how she would react to my presence.

Shifting into park, my gaze traveled over the rows of cars looking for her Jaguar, but it was gone. Maybe she was out shopping or doing her charity stuff she loved more than her family. It wouldn't surprise me. There were a few other cars I'd never seen before, but nothing out of the ordinary.

I pulled my cell phone from the cup holder and stepped out of the car, then walked

up to the front door. As soon as I stepped inside, Thomas was there to greet me.

"Miss Rossi," he said excitedly and hugged me. "It's been too long."

I smiled and squeezed him back. He'd been like a father to me and seeing him brought me happiness the same way seeing my dad did.