Page 186 of Securing the Pucking Rebound

“What? He’s got a fucked-up knee. I could take him,” Garrett states, making me laugh even harder.

God, I love my brother.

“No, you don’t need to come and do that.”

“What did he do?”

“Why do you assume it was him? Maybe I screwed up,” I mutter quietly.

“You didn’t, though, did you?”

“No,” I murmur.

“Go on then, spill.”

So I do.

“Holy shit. You can’t be serious.”

“I know it sounds unbelievable.”

“Unbelievable. Fate. Same thing, I guess.”

“Please don’t romanticize this,” I warn. Despite the fact that my brother is just about as much of a fuckboy as some hockey players I know, he still is a romantic at heart. He might say that he isn’t interested in it all, but I think, deep down, he’s secretly waiting for a man to sweep him off his feet. And personally, I cannot wait for that to happen.

“I’m not. I’m just saying, if this was a movie, you’d be all over it.”

He’s not wrong.

“You just need to figure out if you’re going to have a happy ending or not.”

I sigh, sinking lower on my couch. It’s been a really long week. When we decided to open the salon every day in the run up to the holidays, I thought it was a great idea. We’d be able to see more clients and hopefully make some headway on the constantly growing waitlist, and I’d earn a little extra money, which I need right now more than ever. As a family, we’ve put a limit on how much we spend, because it’s too easy to get carried away, but I’m still trying to find my footing after the move, and buying gifts on top of that is pushing me to the limit.

Bea and I went to look at the possible salon spaces I found online, as planned, and while I’m still excited about us expanding, I can’t exactly say that my heart was in it the way it was when I presented my ideas to her a few weeks ago.

I’ve gone from living my life in full color to everything suddenly being gray and bland. I hate it, but right now, I also don’t have the power or energy to drag myself out of it.

Bea, however, has been buzzing with ideas for both locations. She’s had meetings with her accountant and is busy talking to contractors to get quotes for how much everything might cost before making a final decision on how to proceed.

“I want a happy ending,” I confess quietly.

“Then you’re going to need to either talk to him, or walk away and find it elsewhere.”

The thought of leaving Calvin behind for the second time in my life hurts more than I thought possible. And I can’t even think about getting close to someone else. No one else would be as understanding, as patient.

It’s why I don’t understand why he couldn’t be honest with me. It’s not like we rushed into anything and he was ambushed by it. We’ve been taking our time, learning from each other. If he’d have just told me…

“It hurts, Garrett. He lied to me, how can I trust him?”

“Only you can answer that, Sisi. You won’t know that until you talk to him.”

I mutter my agreement, and thankfully, Garrett changes the subject.

“You’re still coming to Mom and Dad’s for the holidays, right?”

“Yeah, of course. I wouldn’t miss it for the world,” I say, the first buzz of excitement I’ve felt in days flutters in my stomach.

They might no longer live in the house we grew up in, but that doesn’t mean I don’t love spending the holidays there any less. It doesn’t matter how old I get—waking up and knowing there are gifts under the tree and in the stockings we have hanging over the fireplace will never get old.