I wince.
Never wants to see me again.
Fuck.
“She can't mean that. If I could just explain—”
“She meant it,” Lyss says, and there's almost a hint of sympathy in her tone now. “She's been absolutely humiliated today. She gets enough shit from her family and the snobs at school who call themselves 'actors.' She didn't need it from them…and for you to be the one who enabled it.”
I enabled it just by existing in the hockey world, just by wanting to be in her presence. External forces brought us together and then they tore us apart just as quickly.
“I know, and I'm so sorry. I'll make them apologize—”
“It's too late for that,” Lyss interrupts again. “Just… give her some time, okay? She needs a second to breathe and think things through.”
A second to breathe.
She asked me for that before, and a second later we were kissing.
“O-okay,” I say with a nod. “I'll wait. Will you at least tell her I'm sorry?” I ask, knowing it's not enough, not nearly enough, but hearing it from her friend is better than an ignored text.
“I'll tell her,” Lyss promises, though we both know it won't make a difference.
“Thank you,” I say quietly.
Lyss nods once, then closes the door, leaving me standing on the porch with a broken swing and a broken heart.
I trudge back to my truck and sit there way longer than I want to admit. My chest won’t stop hurting. I need to hear her voice. I need her to know the truth. And since I can’t knock on that door again, I give in and text her. It’s all I’ve got.
Scotty:I'm sorry for everything, Laura. You didn't deserve that, and I promise you I didn't betray you.
Scotty:Lyss told me to give you a second to breathe. I promised you before I'd do that, and I'm promising it to you again.
Scotty:This will be the last message I send you until you message me. I'm sorry, Laura. I still think you're too perfect for this world, and I wish I could have shown you that.
I stare at my screen for what feels like a few seconds—it's actually ten minutes—waiting for the green ticks to appear. They don't. Maybe she's asleep and hasn't read it yet…or maybe she's already blocked me.
I lean my head against the window and stare at her house, at the faint light behind the curtains, at the broken swing hanging lopsided on the porch. I sit there for far too long, hoping—begging—she’ll come outside.
She doesn’t.
The achein my chest sinks lower, heavier, until it feels like I’m anchored to the seat. I can’t change the way she looked at me tonight. I can’t undo the shit my teammates pulled.
But I can fix something.
I need to fix something.
My eyes drift back to the swing, the one I broke while kissing her, the one she can’t even look at now without remembering how badly I failed her.
And suddenly I know exactly what I have to do.
I straighten in my seat, gripping the wheel. It’s not enough—nothing will be enough—but it’s a start. A place to put all this useless energy that’s eating me alive.
If I can’t make her hear me right now, then I’ll show her another way.
I head straight for the home improvement store.
Chapter 14
