“Then they’re not who you want to impress. Come on, Tay. You’re stunning. You’re perfectly proportioned.”
I let out a wet laugh, trying really hard not to sob. “You say that to all the girls.”
She’s stunned for a moment, and I’m trying really hard to stop myself from crying. Laughing seems to be the best option. “Well, yeah, but still. If they don’t like you for who you are, then they’re at fault, not you. You cannot change anything about how other people perceive you, so just do what you do best.”
“What’s that?” I ask, wiping the snot and tears from my face. I catch the wince she gives when shewatches me.
“You ignore the haters.”
Something inside me cracks and makes me need to get out. I squirm out of her arms, and she reluctantly lets go of me. “I’m—I just need to breathe.”
“I’ll be here.” She watches me with bright brown eyes before letting me scurry into my new bedroom and curling up into the bed. Tears silently leak down my face as I look at my empty phone screen.
Before I know it, it’s dark, and I’m starving, which is good because I don’t think I’ve felt hunger at all these past two weeks. I roll out of bed, muscles and bones groaning as I force myself out of the position that I’ve been in for several hours without realizing it.
I follow the warm light to the kitchen and listen to Brynn cursing as pans clatter against the floor. I watch her, with her soft three-quarter white zip and curly brown hair in a messy bun, reach down.She glows in this light.
“Have a good rot?” she asks as she picks up the pots.
I nod, not sure if I’m willing to find my voice.
“Good. Are you ready to hear something that may bring up your mood?”
I blink expectantly at her, still not wanting to usemy voice. There’s something about coming back from a good rot that makes me need to enjoy the self-imposed quiet a little longer.
“Tomorrow is the first day of training camp.”
My heart beats faster. “Goodie,” I croak out, and she rolls her eyes.
“You can be a little more excited about it. I know you want to get back out on the ice.”
“Lawson is going to make us skate till we puke.”
She snorts.
“You can’t blame him. He just gets excited about the season and wants to make sure we’re in tip-top shape. I have to win the Walter Cup before I retire, you know.”
I roll my eyes.
“You’re not retiring any time soon; don’t joke about that.”
Brynn watches me with a meticulously plucked eyebrow. I’m so jealous of her and her dark features. I’m stuck with a dishwater blonde that even highlights can’t fix. I have to draw on my eyebrows so people know I have them.
I can’t help but compare myself to that woman again; her perfect blonde flashes in my brain, and there’s a gut punch.
Fuck, I do need to get onto the ice.
Being on the ice is my reprieve from everything.
I can be confident. I know what I’m doing with work. I love my work.
I love checking people and scoring goals.
I hate who I am off the ice, away from my friends, my teammates.
Or maybe I hate who I became with Frank.
God, I don’t know.
