It’s not often I’m so sedentary, but my first training day with the team kicked my ass. Even though I kept up with my workout routine at the gym, it doesn’t compare to the grueling work we do on the ice. I’m sore in places I didn’t know existed before this sport.
“Her name is Oreo, and she used to be Lucifer’s pet before he decided he didn’t want to deal with her anymore,” I explain.
Oreo yowls at the commentary, then starts purring. She’s gotten used to me enough to stick around instead of hiding, but that doesn’t mean she doesn’t still get on my nerves.
“And I wasn’t the first one you told?” she reiterates in disbelief, staring at the black and white kitten licking its paw on me.
“No,” I confirm, watching Oreo. “You weren’t.”
Neither was Ashton. Or Scott. They don’t know that I adopted a demon from the shelter because they’d be pushing me to post about it for clout online if they did. At least when Winter suggested it, she let it go when I told her no. My manager and agent won’t be so relenting when they come over and see the cat tearing ass around the house like the menace she is.
Emaly hums thoughtfully, studying the new edition to my family. There’s love in her eyes. Fondness. She’s never liked cats, even though she’s never had one. Her mother claims the whole family is allergic, but I think she only said that to avoid getting one and dealing with the shedding.
“Interesting,” Emaly says, a secretive smile on her face.
“It’s really not,” I deadpan and pet the cat. Her smile is mischievous until I ask, “Where is Ronnie?”
Only a small amount of guilt pangs in my chest when her lips drop. “At the hospital,” she answers dryly. “Like always. So, what made you decide to get a cat? You struck me as more of a dog kind of guy. Remember when you talked about getting a corgi? Those things were your entire personality throughout high school. You had a name picked out and everything.”
I chuckle. I’d told everybody I knew that I was going to get a Corgi named Cooper, but it never happened. I never had the space, time, or money. “I still stand by them being fucking adorable,” I reply easily. “They’re walking loaves of bread, and I will get one someday when I have the time. And don’t think I’m going to gloss over you changing the subject. Are things better between you and Ronnie, or is there still some tension?”
Emaly groans at my redirection, but it’s on her. She’s the one who called me, so I’m going to interrogate her the same way she would with me. “Do we have to talk about this? You never answered my question about getting a cat.”
“They’re independent,” I answer plainly. “Now that that’s out of the way, spill. You always call me when you want to talk. So talk.”
“Maybe I just miss you.”
My answer is easy. “I miss you too. But you’ve only been back home for a handful of days, which tells me something is going on. You worked a double yesterday, and you’re not sleeping right now. No offense, but you look like shit.”
She glowers. “All offense taken. Never tell a woman she looks like shit. You’re only ever supposed to compliment us.”
“Duly noted for next time,” I bemuse. “Now tell me what this is really about. Because if I hadn’t distracted you with a cat sleeping on my chest, you would have divulged what’s on your mind by now.”
She frowns because she knows I’m right and can’t figure out how to get out of it. “You’re annoying when you’re bossy.”
She means I’m annoying when I’m right.
Blowing out a breath, she leans back against the chair that she’s nestled in. I recognize it from our house in San Diego. That recliner was my favorite because it was long enough for my legs and tall enough that I could rest my head back without it fucking up my neck. I’d wanted to bring it with me, but it’s another sacrifice I left behind because it’s her favorite too.
“We’re not doing good,” she admits, closing her tired eyes and pinching the bridge of her nose. There are bags under them that indicate she’s in desperate need of sleep but fighting it. “And I get it. Ron is upset about our situation and doesn’t understand why I let my parents dictate my life when I’m not close with them. Whenever our future comes up, we’re always disagreeing. Then one of us goes to work and spends way too much time there just to avoid the other. It doesn’t get us anywhere. We’re…stuck in a cycle that I don’t know how to break out of.”
I frown. This is the first time she’s mentioned how serious they are. I’ve asked how things have been going, but she tends to avoid the topic when I bring up engagement and marriage. “Em, if you two want to get married, then—”
She cuts me off, “You know it’s not that simple. My father and his ridiculous ways would never accept it.”
While I understand that obstacle, I also point out something obvious. “You’ve always done your own thing, and it’s gotten you this far. You met the love of your life, Dimples. Are you really willing to let your father ruin that? It’s not fair to either of you.”
Her silence weighs in the air between us.
The answer: yes, she is willing to do that.
Butwhy?
“You know I’ll do anything for you,” I tell her softly, earning her attention back. There’s a glaze to her eyes that I can’t tell if it’s tears of exhaustion or both. “But I don’t want to see you blow up your life because of something, or someone, that your parentsdon’t approve of. You don’t need them. Would it be the end of the world if our charade ended so you could start over? We’ve accomplished everything we set out to do.”
We agreed that we would let this last for as long as we needed to and support one another through thick and thin, as any married couple should. We’ve been loyal to our vows, loving each other in sickness and in health. Being there when we need it most. I love Emaly, and I want nothing more than for her to thrive. Which is why I won’t be the one to hold her back. Not like her parents do.
When she put herself through college, her parents threatened to cut her off. They told her they wouldn’t pay for an apartment or her health insurance, or anything. They’d had a path paved for her that she derailed from because it wasn’t whatshewanted. And I wasn’t going to stand for that.
