“Don’t.” The word comes out harder than I mean it to. “Don’t try to spare me from your life like it’s some kind of burden I can’t handle.”
She looks away, her jaw trembling. “That’s not what I’m doing.”
“That’s exactly what you’re doing.” The frustration is building in my chest, right alongside the fear and anger until I don’t know which emotion is stronger. “You’re trying to protect me by pushing me away.”
“Because you deserve better than this!” The words burst out of her, loud and raw. “You deserve someone who doesn’t come with all this baggage and drama.”
“No. Stop.”
She doesn’t stop. She turns back to the suitcase and grabs another armful of clothes from the pile on the couch.
I can see it happening. She’s pulling away, shutting down, and building those walls back up that took us weeks to break down. She’s trying to convince herself that pushing me out and leaving is the right thing to do.
But I’ll be damned if I’m going to let that happen.
I step forward and put my hand on the suitcase lid, stopping her from adding anything else to it.
“Grant, please don’t make this harder than it needs to be.”
“No.” The word doesn’t come out as harsh this time, but it isn’t negotiable, either. “Please, Heather. Just stop for one second and listen to me.”
I’m actually surprised when she freezes. Yes, she’s still holding on for dear life to a sweater she was about to pack. Her breath is uneven, coming in short gasps like she’s been running. And yes, the fight is still there in her eyes, that stubborn determination to protect everyone by running away.
But she’s listening.
“I don’t want you to go,” I say. “I don’t want you to take April and disappear.”
“It’s the only way.”
“I’m not done.” I move closer, close enough that I could reach out and touch her, but I don’t. Not yet. “You keep saying this isn’t my problem, and how I didn’t sign up for this. But you’re wrong.”
“How am I wrong? You offered me a place to stay for a few weeks while we sorted out our housing. That’s it. That’s all this was supposed to be.”
“Maybe that’s how it started.” I force myself to hold her gaze, to let her see everything I’m feeling. “But that’s not what this is anymore. Not for me.”
“Don’t you understand? Steven knows where we are. He’s not going to stop. And the longer I stay here, the more danger I put all three of us in.”
“That’s not your decision to make alone.”
“Yes, it is!” Her voice breaks. “This is my mess. My past. My responsibility.”
“And what about us?” The question hangs in the air between us. “What about what we’ve been building? Does that not matter?”
She closes her eyes, and I can see the war happening behind them. The pull between what she wants and what she thinks is right.
“Of course it matters,” she whispers. “That’s why I have to go. Because you matter too much to risk.”
“You’re not listening to me.” I move even closer now, and this time I do reach out, gently taking her hands in mine. “You’re not in this alone. We’re going to deal with this together.”
She’s shaking her head again and pulling her hands away. “You don’t know what you’re saying. You have too much to lose. Hockey has always been your whole life. You’ve said it yourself a hundred times. It’s all you think about, all you care about.”
“Used to be.”
“What?”
“Hockeyusedto be my whole life.” I take a breath as the truth of what I’m about to say settles into my bones. “But not anymore.”
She stares at me but doesn’t say anything this time.
