Page 160 of Puck Me Back to Life

“You don't know anything about me.”

“I know.”

“No.” He steps closer. “You don't.” His breathing becomes uneven. “You don't know what my family went through. You don't know what it was like watching my mother stop sleeping.”

Each sentence lands harder than the last.

“You don't know what it was like cleaning out my brother's apartment.” His laugh is short. Bitter. “I still catch myself reaching for my phone because I think I should call him.”

His eyes shine with angry tears. “Then I remember he's dead.”

I don't interrupt. There's nothing I could possibly say.

He points at my chest.

“And every time I look at you…” His voice cracks. “I remember that he's never coming home.”

I feel my heartbeat in my throat.

Noah shakes his head. “I can't believe William is dead and some pathetic excuse for a hockey player is still alive.”

The words hit with frightening precision. Not because they're new. Because I've whispered them to myself for two years.

Noah takes one step backward. “I don't want your apology. Just leave my family and me alone.”

He brushes past my shoulder without another glance and disappears back into the locker room.

I stay where I am. The hallway is silent again. Somewhere down the corridor someone laughs. A cart rattles across the concrete floor. Life keeps moving.

I stare at the spot where Noah had been standing only seconds ago.

Oddly enough, I don't cry.

The tears never come.

Instead, something inside me simply caves inward.

Because for one terrible moment, hearing someone else say the words almost sounds like proof that I’ve been right all along.

I tell Ash it went okay. The lie leaves my mouth so easily it almost scares me. He searches my face for a second, and I force myself to smile.

“It's okay,” I repeat.

He lets out a slow breath. “Good.”

The relief in his voice hurts more than Noah's words had.

Ash steps closer, brushing his thumb over my knuckles. “I was worried.”

“I know.”

His shoulders finally relax.

“So…” I clear my throat. “I was wondering something.”

“Hm?”

“I was going to Uber home.”