“But I’d let these people here down,” I say.
“And you’d raise up others. I know that’s a tough idea to swallow. We think the same about this island and its people, but happiness is never guaranteed.”
“But am I then doing exactly what I did with Dalton? Giving up my life so he can lead his?”
Nathaniel, who had been sitting forward on the couch, flops back. He gives a slow nod, as though considering what I’m saying. “When you gave things up for Dalton, did it feel like something you wanted or something youhadto do?”
“Most of the time, I did whatever he wanted to keep the peace.”
“Is Logan putting pressure on you to go with him?”
“No. He asked me, but he didn’t push.”
“Wouldn’t that suggest that you have a real choice here?”
“He went to Mom,” I say, as though that has any relevance on what we’re talking about. I don’t know whether I can sacrifice my timeline or my career or if I should just let Logan go. The questions feel too big for me when I’m wrung out.
“He told me he went to Mom. Said he was worried Dalton would have tried to blackmail you back into a relationship or an arrangement that would benefit him and harm you. Yeah, he went behind your back—and to a person we know can’t be trusted—but he went with good intentions.”
“I don’t even think I’m mad about it.” Maybe I should be, but ever since we decided to be together, Logan’s never done anything to deliberately harm me. I don’t think he ever would. That he’d rather harm himself first. “Am I an idiot for being so in love with someone who doesn’t want the same life I do?”
“Is the timeline or the moving the biggest issue? Because I think if you can live with one of those, that you need to tell him. He can’t change where he gets traded, but he can reconsider his thinking around marriage and kids.”
“Is it fair to ask?”
“In my opinion,” Nathaniel says, palm pressed to his chest, “it would be deeply unfair not to ask. He’s obviously in love with you. Give him a chance to set his own fate. Don’t set it for him.”
My phone beeps with an alert, and I check my screen. The bolded headline stops my heart.
Beloved physiotherapist accuses advisory council member of domestic violence.
“The news is out,” I say, flashing my phone at him.
“Logan got Owen to put protection on the house—just in case. Dalton does have his supporters.”
“I helped get a lot of those.”
“You’ve always had a big heart.”
I stare at the screen, and a text filled with hearts arrives from Logan overtop of the article about Dalton. “Yeah,” I agree, my voice barely above a whisper, “and this time it feels like I’m giving it to the right person.”
Chapter Forty-One
Logan
The minute I get off the plane, I watch the replay of Dalton getting arrested on my phone. I’m petty like that—haven’t cleared customs—I’m just sitting on an airport bench enjoying his downfall with my carry-on sitting on the floor beside me. Already the headlines are declaring his removal from the Advisory Council.
Celia told me it would be immediate—the accusation is enough. I got the impression from Celia that even if her children won’t speak to her, other people aren’t allowed to go after her family. A weird notion that she should be able to interfere in any way she wants, but no one else had better do the same. By the end of my meeting with her, I could understand why her kids might value her protection and resent her interference.
But no matter what happens with my trade now, at least Dalton’s sphere of influence is diminished, likely completely gone.
My team in hockey might not be winning, but my team in life is fucking killing it. God help me, I really wanted to killhim.
After watching it for a third time, I’m satisfied, and I grab my duffel and head for customs. Clearing it is easy, and then I’m in a car my manager arranged and headed for my hotel.
When I climb into bed, I cradle my phone, and my heart kicks at the realization that when this trade goes through, I won’t get to shoot off random text messages to Sawyer, call her for no reason just to hear her voice, or see things and take pictures to send to her because they reminded me of her. All that stops.
All that stops.
