When she says it like that, it makes sense.
“I just wish he’d let me explain myself,” I say miserably. “I’ve wanted to quit for a while now. I just hadn’t fully come to terms with it yet. I can’t believe I ever thought I could live with myself if I took that money. I wasn’t thinking at all.”
“You were in survival mode,” Grace replies.
“But Mattias doesn’t believe you,” Margot replies.
I shake my head.
“Are you in love with him?” Grace asks.
My head snaps up. “No, I—” Love? No way. We never even got to thelikestage. Or did we? “No. I don’t know.”
“But he’s important to you.”
I roll my lips together and grimace. “Yeah. He really is. And the team is, too.”
“It sounds like you need to figure out what’smostimportant to you, Fred. And it’s okay if that takes a little while. You don’t have to decide right now,” Grace says gently.
“He’s never going to believe another word I say. Why would he?” I say.
“What if you proved it to him?” she replies.
“Proved it to him?” I echo, confused.
“Yeah.”
“Like how?”
“You said you were going to quit the Monarchs, right? If he doesn’t believe you’re going to quit the team for real, give him proof,” Grace says.
“That’s a thought. Do you think it would make a difference?” Margot asks.
I shake my head slowly. “It wouldn’t change the fact that I’ve been lying to him all season.” It won’t change the fact that soon, the team won’t exist at all.
“I’ve got an idea,” Grace says, jumping to her feet. “Though I’m not sure you’ll be up for it.”
“At this point, I’ll give anything a shot,” I say.
I just want to start fighting back.
Chapter 47
Mattias
“Fuck, dude.” Poirier comes to a quick stop beside me, kicking up a blade length of snow. “You trying to kill him or what?”
Out of breath, my hand curled tight around my stick, I stare at where the puck has just ricocheted off the goal post to the left of Häkkänen’s head. “Let me try again.”
“Give it a rest, Mattias. I don't know what's gotten into you, but taking it out on Häkkänen’s not gonna help.”
It’s been nearly a full twenty-four hours since I asked Hearst for an explanation, and she failed to give me one. Nearly a full day since I decided I never want to speak to her again. For all I know, yesterday was the first time she’s ever told me the truth. I hate myself for letting my guard down—for letting her see parts of me nobody has seen in decades. I want to hate her. I want to blame her for everything, chock it all up to her selfishness, but deep down, I know she never would have been able to use me like she did if I hadn’t let her in in the first place.
I’m never going to let it happen again. With anybody.
I line up to take another shot. Häkkänen moves into position, but Poirier puts himself between us.
“Seriously, what’s your problem?” His tone is a warning.
