“Hey, it’s fine. I’m just glad you still draw. I know it used to relax you.” He turns his head away from my touch.
“I never stopped.” His shoulders lift and fall slowly before he turns back and hands me the sketchbook.
I stare at his face, lines of tension running through him. “Kai. I don’t have to see them. I realize things are different between us and it was wrong of me to presume you’d still be comfortable sharing them with me.”
“You can look at them.” His hoarse whisper is full of an indescribable emotion.
Slowly, I open the book, flipping to a random page. My heart stops, then starts again, pounding in my chest. I turn the page. Then another. And another.
“I couldn’t stop drawing you.”
Page after page is filled with sketches of me.
“It’s not, like, creepy or anything,” Kai hurries to say. “I have other sketchbooks filled with other shit. But that one…” He trails off, rubbing the back of his neck like he’s the one who feels uncomfortable, and not me, the one who just found a book full of drawings of myself. He exhales a slow breath through his mouth. “Drawing you centered me. More than anything else. If I was fighting the yips or just having a shit day, sketching youbrought things back into perspective. It doesn’t make sense, I can’t explain it, but it just did.”
I stare at him, the sketchbook still held tightly in my hands. If what he says is true, then that means… Well, to be honest, I don’t think I want to dig too deeply into what it means.
Because the unavoidable truth is that my life and Kai’s are still entwined. Even after all these years and all the heartache. He never fully let go of me.
The question is, did I ever fully let go of him?
Chapter thirteen
Isabelle
Two days ago, I left Kai’s apartment feeling confused about, well, everything. It’s obvious there’s a lot that is unresolved between the two of us, and I don’t have a clue how to work through it.
I want to call Maria, but I know she’d just tell me to be careful with my heart. I can’t talk to my mom, she’d freak out about what it might mean for Tony and the team or get ideas in her head that I might stay in Vancouver for Kai. And I don’t have anyone else here that I feel close enough to talk with about any of this.
Aside from a couple of texts, we haven’t spoken since I left his place. The sketchbook, and the implication of just how much he still thinks of me, whether he wants to or not, is staggering.
It’s made me look back at my time in Italy. The choices I made, especially when it came to dating, how much was influenced by unresolved feelings for Kai?
I’m no closer to understanding it all than I was two days ago. That’s for sure. And every night, when I touch his sweatshirt that is still tucked under my pillow, I’m reminded of that.
I need to see him — no, I want to see him again. Confusion aside, being around him makes me happy.
This morning, as I sit in an empty house with Mom and Tony both gone for work, I contemplate my options. There’s a local farmers market Mom told me about that I might check out, or I guess I could find another local trail to go for a walk. Or I could go for a swim.
In the end, food wins out. A trip to the market and then a day in the kitchen will hopefully distract me enough from all the Kai-related things I should be making peace with in my head and my heart.
But apparently, the man himself isn’t going to let me off that easily. I pick up my phone when it vibrates with an incoming text message.
KAI: Morning, whatcha up to? I’ve got the morning off before warmup for the game tonight.
I stare at the screen, chewing on my lip. Do I… Yes. I do.
ISABELLE: Mom told me about the market on Granville Island. I was going to check it out, grab some ingredients, then try out some new recipes.
KAI: I volunteer as tribute
KAI: I mean taste tester
KAI: I mean can I come?
ISABELLE: Sure. Meet me there?
KAI: Or I could pick you up.
