But letting it go into the swirling snow feels good.
Maybe I’ve reached a point where I can forgive myself for all the things I did wrong.
I hurt her. Can’t deny it.
And that was as hard to face as her leaving.
“And your heart broke,” Goldie says softly.
“Everyone’s does sometime.”
“It happens to everyonedoesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt when it happens to you. And you’re allowed to hurt when your heart breaks.”
I swallow and look up at the swirling snow. “Coach did for mewhat Odette did for you. Picked me up. Supported me through it. Became more of my family than my own family had ever been.”
“The same coach who fired you?” she whispers.
“Same coach.”
“Ouch.”
“One word for it.”
“What you’re doing here with the Pounders—it’s personal.”
It’s so much more than justpersonal. “Yep.”
She goes quiet for a moment, then— “Is she happy now? Your ex-wife?”
“Went to college, got a degree in fashion management, fell in love with her boss’s son, got married, had two kids, and now works as a buyer for one of the last big department stores. Is she happy? More than she was with me, I’m sure.”
“You miss her?”
I shake my head.
Goldie doesn’t press.
But she does shiver.
I pick Sweet Pea up, tell her she’s a good girl and let her lick my face, then steer both of them back inside. Snowflakes cling to Goldie’s dark hair, melting as we make our way to the lift.
Upstairs, they’ve restarted the movie without us. “Only so many hours until they all pass out,” Goldie whispers to me while we make our way back to the couch.
She lets me loop an arm around her while we watch the next hour of the movie.
And when the older ladies start to fall asleep with the movie still playing, she takes my hand, pulls me up, and leads me to her flat.
Like she’s not leaving.
Like this could be real.
Even though we both know better.
35
Goldie
Isthis man for freaking real? “Cheater.”
