I want to tell Summer.
Vanessa clears her throat, pulling me back. I refocus on David and his daughter down the hall, then on her again.
“I’m sorry,” she says.
I shake my head, brows furrowing. “I’m not following.”
“For what happened between us?—”
“We don’t have to dig that back up.” I tuck my hands into my pockets.
We’ve gone five years without talking about it. Why bother now?
She shifts her weight, folding one arm across her middle and gripping her opposite elbow. “I owe you an apology.”
“You don’t?—”
“Can I just say this? It’s been weighing on me. I’ve thought about coming over to you so many times over the years, but I always chicken out.”
I dip my chin, and she continues, “I didn’t handle anything well back then, Mil.”
I hold back a cringe at the nickname I never liked.
“I wasn’t happy, but that wasn’t on you.” She shakes her head. “I was far away from my friends and family for the first time. No job. I left my career to follow you. You had hockey, and I had you. But you can’t rely on any one person for your happiness—well, unless that person is yourself. But I did back then, and when we started to drift, you were there… but you weren’t.”
I know this. It’s the same shit that kept me up at night for years.
“I felt so alone. ButI’mthe one who pulled away. I don’t know, I guess I was protecting myself. I blamed everything on you, but it wasn’t only you?—”
“Vanessa, we don’t need to do this.”
“Just let me finish, okay? What I’m trying to say is, I’m sorry. I realize now how all the shit I said back then hurt you. I was young and angry, and I lashed out.”
“You had every right to be angry,” I say quietly. “I asked you to give up everything…”
She shakes her head. “Butyoudidn’t. I followed you because I loved you. And I failed us just as much as you did.”
Something in my chest loosens.
Something I didn’t know was still tight.
She reaches out, but something on my face must warn her off, and she pulls back. “I want you to be happy. Find love?—”
“I have. I am,” I cut in. “The happiest I’ve ever been.”
Maybe not right this second. Not when I still don’t know where Summer is. Not when the last month has been a steady grind of pretending I’m fine, while every mention of her name makes my heart fucking ache.
The world sees the focused captain, leading his team through the Stanley Cup Playoffs. Nobody sees my jaw tightening as an entertainment reporter grins and gossips about Summer with Cash. If I hear “country music’s it couple” one more time, I’m liable to throw my coffee at the TV.
I don’t know how long I can keep doing this. Acting like she isn’t everything to me.
It might be selfish. It probably is.
But for the first time in my life, I’m starting to think maybe it’s allowed. Maybe part of protecting her is protectingus—what we have together.
“Oh.” Vanessa’s voice softens. “I didn’t know.”
“We’re keeping it private for now. But, hopefully soon, we won’t have to.”
