“Did you not hear me? I plowed into him. I plan to do it again. It’s only fair that he can retaliate. If not, then it doesn’t make it right for me to beat on him.”
“I guess. No one would touch you if I was there.”
“I can hold my own.” My voice raises a little. He did a lot of that when we played together, and I was over the moon for it because he was my man.
“You can, but you shouldn’t have to. He fucked up your pretty face. I don’t care that he’s my friend, if I ever get to play against Sutter, I’ll plow into him.”
That still provides an awesome shiver. Man, I’m fucked up. What is it with Rhett that I can’t let go of? I guess because he’s perfect. It’s not like he did anything horrible. Our life dreams didn’t match up in the end. One sour event shouldn’t sour everything. I just need it to, so I have something to be mad at him for.
There’s a food truck selling hot dogs. It’s so not on my nutritionist’s meal plan for me but fuck it. I’m starving and I’ve been stringent this whole time. I get three hot dogs, fries, and a milkshake. Rhett insists on paying. We sit on top of a picnic bench and it’s weird. I haven’t seen Rhett in a setting this casual for a long time. Since we first met.
It’s dark, but outdoor lights are strung up around the area. He’s kept his hair long on top and the dark tresses fall over his left eye. Apparently, he still loves his black cashmere turtlenecks, but they suit him. I’m drawn to him as much as I ever was.
But something’s different. I don’t know what it is. Just a feeling. I chalk it up to not having seen him in over a year. It’s still fucking surreal having him here.
“I know you didn’t drive all the way out here to play catch up and we still haven’t talked about your creepy and cryptic text message. What’s going on?”
He wipes his fingers off using paper napkins. Paper! Never thought I’d see the day. “It’s been long enough, Jack. How much longer are we going to do this? I’ve given you all the space I can stand to give you—two years of it. I can tell from a mile away you still belong to me.”
That sentence moves through me like an itch. It’s true and it’s not. If you’d asked before Rhett showed up, I would have said that of course I’m not his. In his presence like this, the power he still has over me is stifling. I don’t want it there.
But I’m not as “his” as I used to be. I become less his all the time as I become someone else’s.
“I guess I can’t deny that I still love you, but we ended a long time ago.”
“We didn’t really end,” he says, taking a bite of his hot dog, his eyes on me the whole time.
I start in on my second because I don’t know what to do with that. In some ways he’s right. I haven’t moved on. My head and my heart never stopped the Rhett parade. The possibility we’d get back together loomed in the background because I knew he still wanted to be with me and if things don’t work out for me this year, I might as well end the suffering.
The thing with Mercy is new so of course we’re having a fucking blast, fucking in every corner and crevice of the world we can find, but what I have with Rhett has a solid foundation. I could still build a life with him.
“What are you suggesting?”
“Give it your all this season and if you don’t move up, let’s start our family when I come to get you. The one we always dreamed about.”
I scowl at him. “You could at least pretend to give me a choice.”
He smirks. “If I did that, I wouldn’t be me. You know I always go after what I want and demand to have it.”
The hot dogs stop tasting so good, but I eat them anyway because at least food will fill the void in my stomach. To his credit, he keeps physical distance, but there’s another kind of space he’s consuming. It’s emotional. I don’t want being this close to him to feel so good, but I’d be lying if I said it didn’t.
He’s safe. Comfortable. Certain.
“You’re still sure we can’t do this, and both play hockey?”
“I told you; I’m working on something. It’s a surprise. This separation is killing me, and I can’t spend another minute without you.” His voice bleeds pain. Is this hurting him that much? Why hasn’t he moved on if that’s the case?
I’m such a fucking pleaser that I want to say yes just to take away his pain. I’m wise enough to know that’s not why you do things, but it doesn’t shake the desire. I’m also not gonna tell him I know about his surprise. It won’t make any difference except that it will open a conversation I’m not ready to have. Besides, if it’s true what Sutter said when he was running his mouth, that Rhett’s trying topaysomeone to come to check me out and they still won’t come, it might crush my hockey spirit for good.
I’d rather not know.
“I can’t make any promises, Rhett. Besides I’m kinda seeing someone.”
His eyes darken. “I noticed. That’s fine. This can be the wild oats you’re sowing before our marriage, but when the season ends so do your liaisons with Mercy.”
The free hand not holding his hot dog clenches. So do his teeth.
I nod even though I don’t agree with that. It’s reflexive and calms the discomfort growing in my gut. I’ve never done well with conflict and Rhett. Not that there was a lot of conflict between us, just a lot of small things that didn’t matter overall, so I’d end up flowing with his tide. Like … like … toothpaste brands. We used his favorite instead of my preferred when we lived together in-season. It didn’t matter to me all that much. It’s fucking toothpaste for crying out loud.
