He opens his mouth to argue. He steps closer, just enough that I can smell his clean soap and musky cologne. “I hate needing it. There’s a difference. Because needing it means I get validation. If fans still want my autographs and photos, then it means my hard work pays off. It justifies what I do.”
Makes sense, but still it must be hard to live in the public eye sometimes. Our names are called, and we collect our mugs. We sit at a small table by the window, across from each other. Its compact and our knees touch, but he doesn’t move them. Neither do I; the touch is enough for my heart to ache for more. He quietly stares at me as I settle in, taking off my jacket and putting the extra sugar packets and cream in my cup.
My smile is quick. “Stop observing me,”
“Don’t think I’ll ever stop.” He says it like a fact, not a flirtation, and that’s somehow worse.
Eli wraps his hands around his mug. “I didn’t expect to run into you all these years later,” he admits.
“I didn’t expect to see you either.” The coffee must be a truth serum.
A pause stretches between us, thick with everything we haven’t said yet. Years’ worth of silence is so heavy, it could break the table.
Eli’s jaw tightens. “Admit it—you really ended things between us out of the blue.”
I swallow. “Yes. I did.”
“No warning,” he continues, the words tinged with sadness. “No discussion. You just… decided for us that it should be over. And I spent a long time wondering what I did wrong other than choose a profession that didn’t mesh with your vision of your future.”
My eyes suddenly burn, but I hold back the tears. “Eli, we were young.”
“We were,” he agrees. “But you meant everything to me. I don’t see why we couldn’t have made it work if we really wanted to try. Over time, I convinced myself that you really didn’t love me after all.”
“That’s not true.” I stare down at my coffee, the surface trembling slightly because my hands aren’t as steady as I want them to be. “Our lives were pulling us in different directions.”
His mouth twists. “You made that clear when you broke up with me. I’ve played it over in my head a million times over the years. And guess what? The future is here and now, and look where we are, together in Boulder.” He shakes his head. “I feel like there was something else, a missing puzzle piece I didn’t have. Are you sure there wasn’t something you weren’t telling me back then? Because I find it a little hard to believe that one day you’d say you love me, and then a week later break up with me and go running back into Jerrod’s arms.”
“It was more complicated than that.”
“Then explain it to me. Please. We’re adults now, and whatever it was, I guarantee you I’ll understand and not be mad. If there was something I did or didn’t do, I just need to know. Christ, put me out of my misery.”
I finally give in, a tear escaping the corner of my eye. I swipe it away and inhale. “You’re right, there was more. My dad, he—got arrested.” I watch his face, a blank slate, blinking as if I spoke in a code he couldn’t decipher. Then I broke down and explained it all.
“He worked with a dangerous group of men who had their hands in some criminal activities. The FBI built a case and soon made their arrests, breaking up the gang. In particular, they charged Dad with racketeering and a slew of other things.”
He reaches out and covers my hands around my mug. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“You were celebrating winning the college hockey cup, with news every day of the pros scouting you, and great things coming for you in the world of hockey. While my family back home in Chicago was breaking apart. My mom was a basket case; the FBI seized cars and things in our home for evidence. Dad’s meager income came to a stop.”
“Jesus. All this went on and I never had a clue?”
“You were basking in the sunshine, while I was dying inside, trying to be there for my parents, talking with lawyers, facing my dad’s trial down the line. I talked to Jerrod about it, and he convinced me that if I really loved you, then I couldn’t weigh you down with it all. So I had to let you go.”
“What the fuck? I can’t believe you would listen to him.” His mouth agape, he stares at me in disbelief, eyes filled with rage. “Why him? You could tell him everything, but not me?”
“I knew him long before you. He and I had come from the same neighborhood in Chicago, remember? We were friends before we ever dated, and still friends after we broke up. I’d missed a couple of our classes, crying in my dorm room and constantly on the phone to Mom, when he showed up to check on me. So I told him everything. He was there for me.”
Eli withdraws his hands, elbows on the table, massaging his temples. “I would have been there for you. You should have given me the chance to prove it.”
“No. You would have been in another state playing hockey, dealing with your rookie year and practices and game schedules and all the notoriety… You didn’t deserve to have my family drama mess everything up for you. If you think about it, you’ll know that I was right to do what I did.”
His palms press to his eyes, and then scrub down his face. “I don’t even know what to say right now.”
My heart stumbles. “I know. It’s all complicated. But Dad’s in prison now, where he’ll be for a long time. Mom is in a prison of her own, still struggling physically and mentally. My present is… complicated.”
I take a few sips, letting it all sink in, giving him time to process. My gaze averts out the window and up to the second floor of the shop across the street. Aiden’s bedroom window is there, and I think I see the curtain move. Can he see us having coffee?
When I turn back, Eli’s expression softens. “Maybe you didn’t give me a chance to do much for you then, but I’m here now. Let me prove it to you. Single motherhood can’t be easy. What can I do to help?”
