We lock up our stuff, head into the locker room, and my lungs loosen as the usual noise swirls around me—tape ripping, shit being dished out, Huddy working on his hands with that fucking golf ball of his.
Click-clack. Click-clack.
Rome drops down next to me. “Finn’s been staying with us.”
I freeze mid-reach for my skates, and look over, my heart thudding hard against my ribs at the same time that relief pours through me. She’s safe…she’s close.
No.I can’t think like that.
“And?” I ask carefully.
“You hurt her.”
I close my eyes. “I had to,” I whisper. “Better to tear the Band-Aid off now than in a few months’ time.”
He sighs.
“What?”
“I’m not going to tell you that you’ve royally fucked this up.” His lips curve into a wry smile. “King’s done that plenty the last few days.”
He has.
“Iamgoing to tell you that if you hurt her again you’ll have to answer to me.”
I grab my skates. “I ended things, remember?”
“I remember,” he mutters. “But I think the next thing I tell you is going to change your mind.”
“No”—I shove my feet into my skates—“it won’t.”
“She moved it up.”
I go still. “What?”
He shrugs, cool brown eyes coming to mine. “Jean-Michel’s offered her a spot on the jet. She flies out tonight.”
Tonight.
“She’s leaving tonight?” I rasp.
A long pause as the room tilts from side to side, as my vision goes hazy, as my lungs forget to work.
His hand clamps down onto my shoulder. “Talk to her,” he says. “Call her. Beg her not to go. Tell her you’ve made the biggest mistake of your life, but you’ll spend the rest of hers making up for it.”
The sounds around me grow in volume, overtaking his words, or maybe it’s just the buzzing in my ears and…
The realization that it’s truly over.
She’ll get on that plane tonight…
And she’ll be gone.
“I have to let her go,” I whisper.
Rome’s hand tightens.
Then he sighs and pulls away.
