The kind of heartbreak I swore I’d never cause him again.
Fuck.
I press the heel of my hand against my chest, trying to ease the tightness there but it doesn’t help.
It’s been ten years.
Ten years of pretending I made the right choice.
Ten years of telling myself it was better this way. That he didn’t need the distraction, that Connor didn’t need the chaos that came with a professional athlete’s life. That maybe, if I just stayed out of the picture, everyone would be better off.
But seeing him tonight…hearing his voice again, watching him crouch down and smile at my son…ourson…
God, it nearly broke me.
Because the truth is, I never stopped loving him. I justified to myself that I loved him enough to let him go. To free him of the shackles he would’ve inevitably felt had I told him the truth. It damn near killed me when he moved away because I loved him so damn much. I tried so hard to simply stop letting myself think about what I lost, but in reality, I never stopped.
I don’t remember much about the drive home, which is probably for the best. My mind is spinning in circles like I’m skating on top of a warped rink, and the only thing grounding me is the soundtrack of Connor’s excited chatter.
“Mom, I can’t believe you got to meet him too! Did you see how he smiled at me?” His voice is a constant stream of joy, but all I can do is nod, my thoughts racing back to Harrison, the way he looked, how his eyes softened as they fell on Connor, the way the air felt thick with everything that’s left unsaid between us.
“Yeah, he seemed really nice,” I manage, my voice shaky, like I’m trying to walk on thin ice. I grip the steering wheel tighter, staring at the road ahead but seeing Harrison’s face in my mind instead. That adorable, crooked smile. The way he used to lean in close whenever he joked, making me feel like we were the only two people in the world.
Connor is still bubbling with excitement, oblivious to my internal meltdown as he continues to scroll through videos on my phone, showing me clips from the practice that were uploaded to social media. I try to nod and smile, but my heart isn’t in it. Every second that passes feels heavier, laden with unspoken words and a history I thought was safely tucked away.
He laughs at something on the screen, his laughter bright and untouched by the shadows hanging over me. “Mom, look! Harrison did this sick move!” he exclaims, reaching the phone toward me from the back seat, eyes wide with wonder.
I manage a half-hearted grin, scanning the screen only briefly when I’m stopped at a traffic light. Sure, it’s impressive, but all I can think about is the way Harrison looked at Connor, like he was seeing the best part of himself in my son’s bright smile.
“Yeah, he’s really good,” I say, my voice betraying the tremor of anxiety that courses through me. I pull into the parking garage of our building twenty minutes later, my heart still pounding in my chest as I turn off the engine. The car fades into silence, but Connor’s excitement hangs in the air, a reminder of how easy it is to be a child without adult-sized problems. I can’t help but glance back at him, his face still lit up from practice, oblivious to the emotions swirling inside me.
“Mom, can we watch more videos of Harrison?” he asks, eyes sparkling with enthusiasm. I feel a twinge of guilt as I catch sight of his enthusiasm, knowing how much he idolizes the man I once loved so fiercely.
“Sure, buddy, just let me catch my breath first,” I reply, forcing a smile that doesn’t quite reach my eyes. I open the car door and step out into the night, the cool air a sharp contrast to the heat still radiating from the moment back at the arena. Every step feels heavy as I walk around to help him out of the car.
We head inside, and I let Connor lead the way, still buzzing with energy. Before I can even open our door, my neighbor, who also serves as my work husband and all-around best friend, opens his, peeking out into the hallway and making eye contact with me.
He doesn’t even have to ask.
He knows not to in front of Connor.
But the conversation happens wordlessly between us and he knows exactly what happened.
“Uncle Toni! Mom got to meet Harrison Meers today!”
Antoni’s eyes grow huge as he feigns surprise for my overexcited son. He swings his door open wide and practically squeals, “Giiirl! She did?”
He closes his door behind him and follows Connor and I into our place. Why we don’t just knock the walls down and share a place is beyond me. We’re always together anyway. Antoni and I have worked together for The Next Play Agency for years and when I got the chance to move out here I refused to do so without him. He’s been my rock since the day I started with the company and has become a bit of a father figure for Connor as well.
Or at least a super fun uncle.
“Yeah! And she met Barrett Cunningham and August Blackstone and well…I mean, she met the whole team! And plus, I told that Mr. Cunningham that I’m still faster than him ‘cause he couldn’t beat me on the ice at practice.”
Antoni offers Connor a fist bump. “Damn straight, little man.”
“Mom, can I watch videos on your iPad? I want to find more of Harrison doing that trick with his stick.”
“Sure, bud. Go ahead. I’ll let you know when dinner’s ready.”
