Chapter 240 She Drew a Line

Chapter 240 She Drew a Line

POV: Silver Preston

The next morning, I wake up to seventeen missed calls from my mother.

"That's not good," I mutter, sitting up.

Seventeen voicemails too. I put the phone on speaker and listen to the first one.

Leona's voice, cold and sharp.

"Silver. Call me immediately. We need to discuss your recent activities."

The second: "I've seen the photos. You skating at that rink. With that boy watching. This is unacceptable."

The third: "Your knee isn't ready for skating. Your doctor hasn't cleared you. What are you thinking?"

They get progressively angrier. By voicemail fifteen, she is yelling.

"You're throwing away your career. Your future. Everything we've worked for. For what? Some boy? Some mediocre college relationship that won't last past graduation? This is exactly what I warned you about. You've become distracted. Unfocused. A disappointment."

I delete the rest without listening.

"Your mom?" Americus asks from across the room, her braids loose around her shoulders.

"Yep."

"She found out about last night?"

"Apparently someone took photos. Posted them online. She saw." I pull up Instagram. Sure enough, there are pictures. Me on the ice. Eli watching from the stands. The moment he caught me.

The comments are surprisingly positive. Supportive even.

Silver Preston back on the ice!

She looks happy! Good for her!

That's love right there. The way he jumped to catch her.

But my mother will not see that. She will only see her daughter defying orders. Skating before being officially cleared. Choosing happiness over ambition.

My phone rings. Leona.

I answer.

"Hi, Mom."

"Don't 'hi Mom' me. What were you thinking?" Her voice is ice. "Your knee isn't healed. You could have reinjured yourself. Destroyed any chance of recovery. All for what? A photo opportunity with your boyfriend?"

"I was skating for myself. Because I wanted to. Because it made me happy."

"Happy doesn't win medals, Silver. Happy doesn't get sponsorships or Olympic berths. Happy is what people settle for when they give up on greatness."

I feel my jaw clench.

"Maybe I'm done with greatness if it means being miserable."

"Miserable?" She laughs. Sharp. Bitter. "You think you were miserable? You were the best. You were on track for everything. And you threw it away."

"I got injured. That wasn't a choice."

"But staying injured is. Wasting time at that school with that boy instead of focusing on rehabilitation. That's a choice. And it's the wrong one." Her voice turns harder. "I've spoken with your coaches. With your physical therapist. They all say the same thing. You're not serious about coming back. You're not putting in the work. You're distracted."

"I'm healing. On my own timeline."

"Your timeline is too slow. Other skaters are moving up. Taking your spot. By the time you're ready to compete again, if you ever are, you'll be forgotten. Just another washed-up former prodigy." She pauses. "Is that what you want? To be forgotten?"

"I want to be happy." My voice shakes. "I want to skate because I love it, not because I'm terrified of disappointing you."

"If you loved it, you'd be working harder. Training properly. Not wasting time with mediocre glides at some college rink."

"Those mediocre glides were the first time I've been on ice in months. And they meant everything to me."

"They mean nothing to your career." Her voice is final. "You have a choice, Silver. Focus on your recovery and your comeback. Put in the real work. Or continue down this path with that boy. But you can't have both. And if you choose him, choose this life, I'm done. No more support. No more funding. No more mother-daughter relationship. You'll be on your own."

I feel cold.

"You're threatening to cut ties because I went skating?"

"I'm drawing a boundary. I've invested too much in your career to watch you throw it away. So yes. Choose. Skating career or college boyfriend. But not both."

"That's not fair."

"Life isn't fair. Skating isn't fair. And I'm not going to enable you to destroy yourself." Her voice softens slightly. False warmth. "I'm doing this because I love you. Because I see your potential. Come home. Work with me. We can fix this. But only if you're serious."

"And if I'm not? If I choose to stay here?"

"Then you're not my daughter anymore."

The line goes dead.

I sit there, phone in hand, feeling like I have been slapped.

"Silver?" Riley's voice is careful. "What did she say?"

"She wants me to choose. Career or Eli. Skating or happiness." I look up. "And if I don't choose her way, she's cutting me off completely."

"She can't do that," Maya says.

"She just did." I set my phone down. Feel numb. "She just disowned me."

Americus is already typing furiously.

"Okay. Here's what we're going to do. First, we document everything she said in case we need it legally. Second, we call your dad and see if he can talk sense into her. Third, we--"

"No." I stand up. Feel surprisingly steady. "We don't do anything. She made her choice. Now I make mine."

"Which is?" Riley asks quietly.

I look at my phone. At the photos of me skating. At the comments from strangers celebrating my return to ice. At the picture of Eli catching me with that look on his face.

"I choose me," I say. "Not her version of me. Not the skating prodigy or the Olympic hopeful. Just me. Silver. Who skates because she loves it and loves a boy who catches her when she falls and is trying to figure out who she is without her mother's voice in her head."

"Silver--" Americus starts.

"I choose me," I repeat. Firmer now. "And if that means Leona is done with me, then she's done. I can't keep sacrificing my happiness for her dreams. I won't."

My phone buzzes. Text from Eli.

Eli: Heard your mom called. You okay? I'm here if you need me.

Silver: She threatened to disown me if I don't choose skating over you.

Eli: What did you say?

Silver: I chose me. Which means I'm choosing us.

Eli: I love you.

Silver: I love you too.

I look at my roommates. At their worried, supportive faces.

"She'll come around," Riley says hopefully.

"Maybe. Maybe not." I feel strangely calm. "But I'm done living in fear of losing her approval. I lost that the moment I fell at Nationals and stopped being perfect."