So many things I want to say, but all of them feel wrong. I want her so badly. Who the fuck believed I could only have her once? What kind of bullshit was that?
Yet, it was the agreement we made. What can I promise her? What can I give her besides my broken, guarded self? She deserves better than that.
“At least let me walk you home.”
“You don’t have to.” She shakes her head, waving her hand. “Newhope is literally the safest place in the world. Go back and celebrate with Gavin and Maverick. Y’all are teammates now. Make some memories.”
A knot aches in my throat, but I don’t care. Despiteeverything inside me telling me this won’t work, I step forward, tracing my finger along the line of her cheek, moving her hair behind her shoulder.
“I can’t do that.” My voice is quiet. “I can’t have fun when I know you’re crying.”
She shakes her head, wrapping her fingers around my wrist and moving my hand away from her face, her hair. “I can’t hear that from you now. Not after…”
Her voice breaks off, and my chest aches. “Because of what happened?”
“Because you never really know people. You said it yourself.”
Fuck, that hurts. “I didn’t mean…”
“Please, Owen.” Her gorgeous green eyes meet mine, tears lingering in them. “I can’t do this again.”
“Again?”
“I’ve been down this road, and I’m the one always left behind with a broken heart.” She puts up a hand, shaking her head. “I’ll be okay. Just give me a minute. It was a one-time thing. We agreed, John and Kendall.”
“Right. John and Kendall.” My voice is quiet, and I’m pretty sure I can’t do this either.
I knew with every fiber of my being to stay away from her, to let her live her life in peace, but I crossed a line I can’t uncross.
The right thing to do would be to respect her wishes, to go back to Maddie and Heather, to do what I always do, be the best dad, provider, protector.
But what the fuck is the point of anything if I can’t protect this woman with the tears in her beautiful eyes who made me feel more alive than I have in seven years?
Stepping closer, I gently touch her hand. “I’m sorry, Gina.”
She nods, lifting the hand I touched to swipe a fresh tear off her cheek. “I know.”
With that she turns, and holding the skirt of her dress, she runs to the house, leaving me aching and raw. This thing between us, this connection, has pulled my heart from my chest, but I don’t have a leg to stand on.
I created this mess. But I think finding a way to fix it is worth the effort.
Maybe it’s the first sprout of hope, like a tiny seedling pushing through the cold, ravaged ground of what used to be my heart. Maybe it’s this weekend, and the love of this massive gathering of family and friends giving me courage.
Maybe you never really know anybody, but looking around, I know her.
13
GINA
“It’s Thursday night—you know what that means!” Haddy is in my bedroom dressed in Gavin’s jersey with Lucy in a carrier wearing a onesie with the number 5 underDaddyon the front and a tiny purple ribbon in her newborn hair. “Baby’s first hockey game!”
“She’s adorable.” I bend down to lift her little booty-clad feet. “Aren’t you adorable? Yes, you are!”
Her blue eyes are wide, and she blows bubbles at me while she scrubs her little heels against the carrier.
I’m dressed in my black leggings and white turtleneck and my usual Champions jersey with Maverick’s name over the number 74 on the back.
Since we returned from Newhope, I’ve done my best to get back to normal, which means focusing on dog business.
