Chapter 21

“I thought I was moving forward with my life. Getting through the grieving process. I went through those stages they talk about. I remember that feeling of not being able to believe it had happened. Like, when I went to pack up Ariana’s clothes, I couldn’t do it…because she might come back.”

Nicky nods, sitting across from me on one of my white leather chairs, one ankle resting on the opposite knee. He lifts his glass of scotch to sip. His dark eyes are somber as he listens.

“I thought of all the things I should have done, that might have made a difference. I fell into a fucking black hole of depression.” I’d been so sad that I couldn’t imagine I would ever feel happy again. Looking back now, I think I didn’t want to ever feel happy again. I think I was resisting dealing with the reality of what I’d lost.

“You got help, though.” He’s one of the few people who knows I went to a doctor and got some medication.

“Yeah.” I let out a breath. “And it did help. I thought I was ready to move on with my life, and I set my sights on a goal—making the team roster. Playing hockey. I had some purpose to my life, something to work for.”

“That’s good. Looks like you’ve been working hard.”

“Yeah. I have. But…” I tip my head back. “Now I know I wasn’t really moving forward. I hadn’t really accepted losing Ariana. I didn’t really believe I could be happy again. Until…”

“Kendra?”

I nod, my throat tight. “Yeah. Because even though hockey makes me happy—you know I fucking love hockey—I didn’t really know what it was to feel happy again until I met Kendra.”

She melted my resistance. She melted the ice around my heart and soul. She made me feel not only happiness but so many other things, too…Amusement. Desire. Hope. And yes, confusion, jealousy, and even loneliness…when she wasn’t here.

I stare out the window at the setting sun gleaming off the nearby buildings, which are outlined in sharp contrast against the deep blue sky. It’s only four days until training camp starts, but I’ve got a glass of Johnnie Walker Blue in my hand. What the hell. One glass of scotch isn’t going to make or break me.

I look down at my glass. “I keep thinking about what Army said.”

“What part of what he said?”

She defended you.

A fist squeezes my throat. I take a sip of the scotch and let it burn through the stricture. I tip my head back. “He said she defended me.”

“Okaaaaay…”

I swallow more scotch. “That means she really loves me,” I choke out.

“Did you doubt it?”

I think about that. I told her she didn’t really love me. I told her she was just looking for someone else to fix. But I didn’t really believe that. “No,” I say, my voice sounding like I swallowed a hairbrush. “I didn’t doubt it. I just didn’t want to believe it. Fuck, I’m an asshole.”

“You sound confused.”

I snort. “Yeah. A confused asshole.”

Nicky hesitates. “What’s really holding you back?”

I meet his eyes briefly, then let my gaze slide back to the windows. “That’s a good question.” I suck in air. “I guess it’s Ariana.”

“She’s not here, Max,” Nicky says quietly. “That’s just an excuse.”

I scowl at him. “What the fuck?”

He leans forward, glass clasped in his hands, elbows on his knees. Annoyance buzzes inside me, but Nicky’s a good guy. He’s been a good friend to me. He didn’t ditch me after Ariana died. I know some guys felt uncomfortable being around me. People didn’t know what to say or how to act. I never blamed them, but Rupper and Nicky were the two guys who had the guts to stick with me even when I was a moody, dejected jerk.

“Nobody wants to lose someone they love. Nobody wants that kind of pain in their life,” Nicky says in a low voice.

I nod, my chest squeezing again. “I can’t go through that again,” I choke out.

“There are no guarantees. It happens. It happens to all of us. How we deal with it makes us grow and makes us stronger. We can learn from it. We can learn to question what life is really about. What’s really important. What it means to be alive.”

I stare at him, and remember he knows what he’s talking about. He lost his brother a couple years ago. Well, actually the whole hockey world lost his brother. It was tragic and I know how hard it was for him. Maybe that’s why he’s one of the few who gets what I went through, too. His eyes are shadowed but compassionate as I meet them.

“I loved Ariana,” I rasp out.

Ah, shit. I just said that in the past tense. I still love her. I’ll always love her. But, like Nicky just said…she’s not here.

Kendra is here. And…I love her, too.

I close my eyes. I wait for the guilt to punch me in the gut. But it doesn’t come.

My eyes fly open. I jump off the couch and walk into my office. Not even limping—my leg’s feeling much better this week, thank fuck.

I drop into my office chair and regard the photographs on the shelf. The photo of Ariana and me when we got married in Barbados, my arms around her on the beach, both of us smiling. Another one of us on a buddy’s sailboat. Photos of Ariana by herself.

I remember those times. In my mind, they’re so carefree. We lived in a safe, happy, privileged bubble, going about our life, me playing hockey, Ariana working at her job at a nonprofit organization that promotes sports for kids. We did good things, sure, things that were important. We also had fun—partying with friends, shopping for our new house, going on trips. We never thought that our time together was so limited. We never realized what a precious gift life is.

She defended you.

That’s what love is. It’s selfless and generous. Ariana and I loved each other that way. I gave up my hockey career to be there with her when she was sick. I didn’t think twice about it. I guess it was a sacrifice, but I had no doubts about it and when it was done, it was done. And I know she would have done the same for me if needed.

I want you to be happy.

Kendra’s the one who said that to me, the night she left. But I’m hearing those words in Ariana’s voice.

And I know she means it. Because she loved me.

My eyes sting and my throat aches.

She wouldn’t want me to feel guilty about loving someone else. She’d be happy for me. She wouldn’t want me to be lonely. And she wouldn’t want me to break someone else’s heart because I haven’t learned that I can’t move forward without accepting that she’s gone.

My gaze moves over the pictures, and for the first time I feel a sense of peace and happiness looking at them. I’ll always have those memories. I’ll always love her. But it’s a different love than what I feel for Kendra. And that’s okay.

I rise and walk back into my living room. Nicky’s sitting patiently on the couch. The sun is setting, the sky outside my condo window tinted scarlet, orange, and pink. The brilliance makes me think of Kendra, so bright and spirited and full of joy.

I toss back the rest of the scotch and sit back down on the couch. “I fucked up.”

“So fix it.”

“Maybe it’s too late. Maybe I fucked up so badly that I can’t fix things.”

“It’s never too late to try.”

I nod. But how do I fix things?

I can’t do this by sending a few dirty emojis. I have to see Kendra, I have to get down on my knees and hand my heart to her. Jesus, I sound like a fucking Valentine.

“Training camp starts in a few days. I’ve been working my ass off for months for this. How can I toss that all aside to go to her?”

Nicky smiles. “I think you know what’s really important, Hallsy.”

I stand in the hall down from Kendra’s apartment, watching, my hands in my pockets, shoulders tense and up around my ears.

Her door opens.

Nothing. Then I see her arms reach out as she bends to pick up Buster from the floor.

Slowly she steps out into the hall, holding the stuffed dog. She turns her head and looks at me almost fearfully.

For a moment the only thing I hear is the pounding of my heart in my ears. My blood rushes hot through my veins as I stare at her. She’s wearing those tight little black shorts and a tank top that’s got a big wet spot between her breasts. Her face is damp and flushed, her hair pulled up into a ponytail.

She’s beautiful. I love her so much.

She glances down at Buster and one corner of her mouth lifts as she hugs him to her chest. She looks back at me and tips her head. “Max.”

I swallow and nod. And start walking toward her. “Kendra.”

I stop near her. She holds my gaze with those gorgeous green eyes. “What are you doing here?”

“I have to see you. I have to talk to you.”

She searches my face. I attempt a smile, but I know it has to look weird, because I’m terrified. “Why aren’t you in Chicago? Training camp starts Friday.”

“Fuck training camp.”

Her eyes widen and she gasps. “Max!”

I shrug.

“You don’t mean that.” Her brow creases. “You are going to training camp, aren’t you?”

I sigh. “Yeah. But right now there’s something more important.”

She blinks.

“You.”

She sucks her bottom lip briefly but not before I can see it quiver. “Come in.”

She carries Buster into her apartment and I pick up the backpack I’d dropped to the floor and follow. Her running shoes sit on the floor just inside the door. Music is playing, of course, something mellow and moody, and a big candle burns on the coffee table, filling the apartment with the scent of vanilla.

She holds out a hand to her couch. I leave the backpack on the floor near the door and take a seat. She sits cross-legged, facing me, still holding Buster. She strokes his head and adjusts one ear.

“You left him behind.” I nod at the dog.

Her smile is lopsided. “I know.”

“On purpose?”

“Yes.” She drops her gaze briefly. “I love him, but I didn’t want him to remind me of…”

“Me.”

She hitches one shoulder.

“I’m sorry, Kendra.”

Her smile is brave. “You don’t have to apologize. I understand.”

“What do you understand?”

“I understand that you’re not over losing Ariana. You loved her. I understand it takes time.” She pauses and bends her head. “I overheard you talking to your parents that day…the day I left. I heard you telling them you don’t want to forget her. You don’t want to move on.”

“Christ.” I bow my head, too. No wonder she’d seemed hurt that day.

“I thought…I hoped…well. Grieving and moving on is different for everyone. You’re not there yet. And I’m sorry—”

“Don’t apologize.” My harsh tone makes her flinch. “You have nothing to apologize for. I was an asshole.”

She purses her lips and huffs out a breath. “No. You weren’t an asshole. You lost the woman you love. You’re trying to figure it all out. Like I said, I understand that you’re not ready to love again.” She meets my eyes. “But one day you will be. One day you will find love again.”

Her valiant optimism when she talks about me finding someone else feels like knives twisting in my heart. “I found it already.”

She goes very still and her fingers tighten on Buster’s brown fur.

“God, Kendra. I was an asshole. And a stupid idiot. I kept holding on to my grief. I thought I was moving on, but I wasn’t, I was just holding myself back.” I pause. “I had a goal—playing hockey. I had something to work for for the first time since Ariana died. That was important to me.”

“And that’s a good thing,” she says softly. “To have something in your life that matters.”

I nod. “Yeah. Only I was so focused on that, so focused on my goal of making the roster, I didn’t even realize that I was missing out on so much more.” I rub the back of my neck. “I did a lot of thinking last night. I realized I fucked up really bad. All because I thought I’d be betraying Ariana if I fell in love with someone else. But you know what I realized last night?”

She pulls in a long, shaky breath through her nose and whispers, “What?”

“Ariana would be pissed at me for being so stupid. She’d be pissed at me for breaking someone’s heart because I was too stubborn to accept that she’s gone.”

She makes a little noise like a whimper.

“When I thought about it, I got it—when I realized that you were being so unselfish when you left…you loved me so much you just wanted me to be happy, even if it’s not with you.”

A small sob tears from Kendra’s throat. “I do,” she croaks. “I want you to be happy. I want you to make the team. I want you to win the Stanley Cup. I want you to open your heart and find someone to love again.”

My eyes sting and my vision blurs. I dash a hand across them. “That’s why I knew that Ariana would want the same for me. Because that’s what love is.”

Her eyebrows slope down and a tear slides down her cheek. “Oh, Max.”

“Losing someone is awful. Not gonna lie. But I had a chance to learn something…something about myself. Something about life. And I wasn’t taking that chance. I was just living in denial, telling myself I was ready to move on. But I couldn’t move on until I accepted what happened.”

“And you think you have now?”

I nod. “Yeah. I thought about things. I missed you so much. And I didn’t feel guilty about it. I thought about what Ariana and I had, and I was…okay. Not wrecked, like I used to be when I thought about it.” I tip my head back, trying to find the words to express what I’m feeling. It’s hard. Damn, it’s hard. “I used to feel angry and sad. Bitter. But I don’t feel that now. I know I’ll always have that. That time with her. I’ll always have those memories. But real life is what’s happening now.”

She blinks rapidly and nods.

“I thought hockey would make me happy and fill my life. But I know now it won’t be enough, because having you in my life made me happy. You made me feel again…things I didn’t want to feel, because I was scared. But you…you’ve been hurt so much.” I squeeze my eyes closed briefly, my chest full and hot. “I hate that you’ve been hurt, when you’re so warm and caring. When I think about how brave you are to be able to love despite all that…you made me feel like a coward. Hiding from life. Hiding from love.”

“Oh, God.” She lets out a quivering breath. “Oh, Max.”

“I’m sorry that I hurt you. I love you, Kendra. I want…I want you in my life. I don’t even know how that would work. I haven’t thought about it…we live in different cities, we have lives so far apart, but…I want you in my life.”

She gazes back at me, her eyes glossy with tears, her bottom lip pouty. She doesn’t say anything for a long time. “I don’t know, Max.”

My heart clutches. “You don’t know?”

“I thought a lot, too. Since that night.” She bends her head and fingers one of Buster’s ears. “I thought about what you said about me trying to fix you.”

I stare at her. Is she saying that’s all that was? That she doesn’t really love me?

“You were right,” she says quietly.

My gut cramps up.

“I mean…I have tried to do that in the past. That was how I got my heart broken, over and over…hooking up with guys who had issues. I was attracted to that. It filled some need inside me. I know that about myself—the way I connected with people was to rescue them. Every time I was trying to help them deal with their demons, I was really trying to deal with my own demons…trying to get them to love me like I tried to get my mother to love me.”

I nod slowly. “I know I said that about you…but you were right. I didn’t mean that. I just didn’t want to believe you really love me.”

“And what makes you believe I really do love you?”

“What Army said.”

Her eyes scrunch up. “What? You talked to Duncan?”

“Yeah. I thought he was going to punch me.” I grimace. “He was pissed at me for hurting you. I don’t blame him. But he said…you defended me.”

Her eyes widen.

“I kept thinking about that over and over. And that’s when I knew…you do love me. No, no, no.” I slash a hand through the air. “That’s not true. I already knew you loved me. That was why I ended things. I could see it in your eyes. All the things you did for me. The way you looked at me when we…made love.”

She swallows, still big-eyed.

“I just didn’t want to admit it. But when he said that…when I realized it’s true…what a gift that is. And what I was throwing away by being such a douche.”

She blinks rapidly.

“I gave up hockey to be with Ariana,” I say hoarsely. “I never doubted it. I don’t regret it, even though I’ve had a helluva fight to get back. That’s why I’m here, Kendra. I should have been at the rink today, skating, getting ready…but it just didn’t seem as important as coming here to see you and telling you how I feel and how sorry I am that I hurt you.”

She presses her lips together and more tears fall onto Buster’s head. “I don’t know w-what to say.” She holds my gaze. “I do love you, Max.”

My heart leaps.

“But I’m scared. You were scared of letting go of the past and loving again. And I’m scared of it, too, to be honest. I didn’t want to fall in love again. I didn’t want to get hurt again. When I realized I was falling for you, I wasn’t honest with you. I kept saying it was just a long-distance fling, no big deal. I lied. It was a big deal for me. And I kept thinking that you’d realize it was for you, too, that we really had something together. But I was deluding myself.”

I frown at her. “You weren’t deluding yourself.”

“I was!”

“I did have feelings for you. I just didn’t know it. I’m sorry, Kendra. I’ll say it a million times. I’m so, so sorry.”

Her face softens. “I know you are, and I told you, you don’t have to apologize. I know you weren’t trying to hurt me. But…you did. And I don’t think I can handle that again.”

My chest burns. “You don’t believe me? That I’m ready to love again?”

She bites her lip, and that’s my answer. I drop my head and my shoulders slump. The pain at the back of my throat makes it hard to swallow and my gut churns nastily. The silence stretches out dense and heavy for long moments while I try to figure out what to say. And then I do what I came here to do.

I slide off the couch and onto my knees in front of her. Her eyes go wide. She lays a hand on her chest where her heart is, and I know she’s feeling that pain, too. “We love each other, Kendra. I know we’re both scared. We both have things in the past we need to let go of. And maybe we think we’re being strong by hanging in there and holding on, when really…it’s stronger to let go.”

Tears leak out of her eyes and slide down her face. She gazes back at me, her lip quivering.

“Will you think about it?” I ask quietly. “Take some time.” I swallow. “Please?”

She closes her eyes and another tear slips out. Her lips press together. Then she nods. “Okay. I’ll think about it.”