Sitting in the WAGs suite with the other wives, girlfriends, and partners was…unthinkable. And even though everyone had been nice, I felt “other” somehow since losing Derek. I wasn’t a wife; I was a widow. It was a completely different club—and one I’d never wanted to be a part of.
“Hey,” Georgia said, placing her hand on my arm. I startled from the contact. “You okay?”
“Honestly?” I swallowed back the emotions, willing the tears away. “No. But I don’t really want to talk about it either.”
Crying wouldn’t change anything. Nothing would bring back Derek or the dreams we’d shared for the future.
No one knew that Derek and I had been trying to conceive when he’d died, not even my closest friends. And now, it would never happen.
Georgia’s frown deepened. “You sure?”
“I’m sure,” I said, eager to move on. I was twenty-seven, and I’d already found and lost the love of my life. It was…a lot.
“You know I’m always here if you want to talk.” She hugged me. “Or not talk.”
“I know. And thank you. I appreciate it more than you’ll ever know.”
She released me, and I gestured to the dresses draped over my arm. “I’m going to try these on.”
She trailed me to the fitting room, taking the one next to mine. We were quiet apart from the rustle of fabric as we changed. I ruled the first dress out before I’d even zipped it up all the way. My body had changed, and I was still getting used to what looked good on me now. What fit my life now.
The next one was definitely better. It was the dress Georgia had picked.
“What do you think?” The fabric flowed around my legs as I stepped into the hallway. It was beachy, and I already felt like I was on vacation.
Georgia pulled her curtain aside. “Love it. That color is great on you, just as I knew it would be.”
“Thanks.” I grinned. “I like that on you too,” I said, admiring the pink jumpsuit she was wearing.
She grabbed another dress from a nearby rack. “Try this one next.”
I jerked my head back. It was gorgeous, colorful and flowy, but also…sexy.
“Really?” I asked, studying the low neckline. Lower than anything I’d worn in a while, though I mostly lived in scrubs or yoga pants these days.
“Yes, girl.” She handed it to me before shoving me back toward the fitting rooms. “Be colorful. Live life. Have fun.”
That used to be me. Colorful. Carefree.
As I stared at myself in the mirror, the dress held up to my front, I realized that I wanted to be that girl again.
CHAPTER THREE
“What do you think about Kovi joining the team?” Gabe asked, clearly trying to strike a balance between being discreet since we were in the weight room at the Atlas Center and being heard as music blasted through the speakers.
I grunted in response, then pushed up the bar, grateful my teammate was spotting me so I didn’t drop it on my face. When I reached the top of the move, he helped me maneuver the bar to rest in the cradle.
“Thanks.” I sat up, toweling off my face and grabbing some water.
Carson Kovalsky had spent the past few years in Nashville before he’d been traded to the Hawks. Kovi was a cocky motherfucker, but he was talented. He’d been part of the USA Hockey National Development program, playing for a few years in London after that, before being drafted to the NHL.
“He has a lot of potential,” I said, wanting to be fair. I didn’t know the guy all that well. It wasn’t his fault he’d been brought in to fill Derek’s position on the line.
“Let’s hope he lives up to it,” Gabe said.
I only hoped that Kovi and Boone, one of our D-men, would have some good chem once they spent more time on the icetogether. Because so far, the only thing they seemed to be doing effectively was annoying the shit out of each other.
Training camp would be starting before we knew it, and I was easing back into my workout routine in preparation for the season. A few of the guys were in the weight room at the Atlas Center, including Boone, Zayn, and my backup goalie, Quinn.
