27. leo
TWENTY-SEVEN
leo
S he should’ve chosen me? She leaves me with that one sliver of hope before I spend the rest of the night tossing and turning in bed, the weight in my chest growing heavier with every sleepless hour.
Of course, I was never enough in the eyes of Victoria’s family. But knowing that doesn’t make the shame from my past any easier to carry. In some twisted way, it feels like I’ve become the parent now, trying to drag Tina back to solid ground, only to fail miserably at every turn. Her failures feel like mine, and I don’t know how to handle losing. It’s the reason I play so hard on the ice, why I walk around with this chip on my shoulder. It’s a broken piece of me I’ve never been able to fix.
Because if there’s one thing I’ve mastered, it’s ruining the good things in my life before they have the chance to stick. Especially when I’m afraid I’ll get rejected all over again.
As I sit on the edge of the bed and drop my head in my hands, my foot bumps a box under the bed. I lean over and pull out a large shoebox—one I don’t want to open, because I know it will only bring back too many memories.
Muffled footsteps pad across the hall, and when I look up, Victoria is standing in my door, framed by the faint glow of moonlight behind her.
“What are you doing up?” she asks.
“Can’t sleep,” I say, trying to make it clear I’m in no mood for another argument.
She nods toward the box. “What’s that?”
I quickly shove the box under my bed. “Something I should’ve thrown away a long time ago.”
She frowns slightly. “Oh, really? Can I see?”
“No,” I shoot back, kicking the box with my foot so it slides farther underneath. “It’s private. And my bedroom is off-limits, remember?”
She frowns slightly. “Well, okay, then. Guess I’ll head back to bed.”
As she starts toward her room, I notice she’s wearing my hoodie, her bare legs peeking out beneath the bottom. My pulse kicks up, even though I’m supposed to be mad at her.
“I still want my hoodie back!” I call after her.
She turns to look over her shoulder. “That’s why I’m wearing it to bed, so you couldn’t steal it while I slept. Next, I’m going to take your jersey.”
“And you should really put something on those legs,” I add in a disapproving tone.
“Hmm, I remember someone made me promise not to wear my two-piece pajamas around the house,” she says, then shrugs innocently. “Your hoodie conveniently solved that problem.”
“You would use my hoodie against me,” I mutter under my breath.
She tilts her head. “You don’t seem in the mood for sleep.” She tucks her hands into her pockets.
I stand, following her into the hall. “Not when someone I care about thinks I’m angry at them.”
“You think I’m angry?” she says gently, her eyes wide. “I’m not. Are you still upset with me?”
I stop in front of her. “How can I stay mad at that face?” I say, brushing my knuckles softly over her cheek. “I was just hurt, even though you were right. I should give Tina another chance, and I’ll try to do better next time. But I can’t stand going to bed wondering if you’re mad at me.” I pause, letting out a long breath. “When people hurt me, I shut them out. It’s not right, and I’m sorry.”
“I know that now,” she says, her voice softer. “I’m sorry for not being more understanding.” She pauses, then reaches up her hand, gently smoothing the crease in my forehead. “I hate when your brow gets all furrowed like that, and I don’t know how to fix it.” Her gaze never wavers as her hand slides down to meet mine. “Leo... I’ve been wanting to tell you something about why I broke up with you.”
“Okay,” I say.
She hesitates, her lips pressing together. “I only told you half of the story about why I broke things off. It’s true that my parents were pressuring me—they believed I needed to stay focused on my goals, and that I didn’t have time for a relationship.”
I brush a stray wisp of hair from her forehead. “You could’ve told me about the pressure they were putting on you. I still wouldn’t have liked it, but as an athlete I would’ve understood—even if I wouldn’t have agreed with your decision.”
She shakes her head, her voice faltering. “But it wasn’t only because of my career that I broke things off.” Her gaze drops to the floor. “My parents threatened that if I stayed with you, they’d make sure you’d never play hockey again. They said they’d ruin your chances, and I couldn’t let them take away your dream because of me. I thought the only way to protect you... was to let you go.”
I take her face in my hands. “Let me get this straight. You broke up with me... because you were trying to save my career?”
She nods slowly. “I knew hockey was everything for you, and that without it, you wouldn’t be the same person. You eat and breathe this sport. If they had ruined your career, you would’ve always wondered how far you could’ve gone and whether you’d be playing in the NHL. I wasn’t going to take away your happiness, Leo. It meant too much to you.”
“Vic,” I say, pulling her in my arms, trying to push back the emotion crushing my chest. “ You are what makes me happy. I can’t believe you did that for me.”
She wraps her arms around me like she’s afraid I’m going to disappear and buries her face in my chest. “I’m so sorry, Leo,” she murmurs, her voice muffled against my T-shirt. When she looks up at me, tears well in her eyes. “It was the hardest thing I’ve ever done. I wanted to go back and tell you the truth so many times. That’s why I didn’t respond to your texts. I had to cut you off cold turkey because I knew if I talked to you, I wouldn’t be strong enough to keep pretending I didn’t love you.”
I tighten my arms around her and rest my cheek against her hair, kissing her gently. Her words undo all the anger and confusion I’ve held on to for years. After our breakup, I cast her as the villain in my head, instead of believing the truth I already knew—Victoria Jenkins loved me so much that she’d give up everything just to make me happy.
Even the memory of that final, hurtful text message carries a different meaning now that I know the reason she left me. She wasn’t walking away from me—she was walking away for me.
“You know,” I say, “you could’ve saved me a lot of community service hours if you’d just told me all this back then.”
She laughs into my T-shirt, then sniffles a little. “I know, and that’s what I feel awful about. I wanted to tell you ever since we started skating together, but I was afraid you’d hate me for it. And that would’ve broken me completely. We lost so many years, and I was convinced you were over me.”
“I could never be over you,” I say, rubbing my thumb over the hollow of her cheek. “We can’t get that time back, but we have right now. And I’m not letting you go.”
“Wow, Leo,” she says, her eyebrows rising. “If I’d have known we both were losing sleep over this, I would’ve knocked on your door a lot earlier.”
“Why didn’t you?” I ask.
“I thought you were asleep, and, well...” She bites her lip, her gaze dropping for a second before it flicks up. “House rules.”
“The no-touching rule?” I ask, raising an eyebrow.
“We pretty much obliterated that one already,” she says, her mouth curving. “At least I kept the pajamas rule!”
“By stealing my hoodie,” I mutter with a grin.
“Hey, you offered it.” She smiles at me innocently. “But I did promise not to come into your bedroom, and I haven’t broken that rule yet because I know it’s your grizzly bear cave.”
“Listen, I know why we made those rules. But since we’ve already proved we’re terrible at following them, does it really matter anymore?”
For a moment, she doesn’t say anything. Instead, her arms loop around my neck, pulling me into a full body hug .
“I take it that’s a yes?” I laugh.
“Yes,” she says, her voice muffled against my shoulder. She pulls back just enough to give me a look that says follow me, before lacing her fingers through mine. My pulse speeds up as we reach the doorway. The imaginary line we’d drawn feels like the final rule we’ve yet to throw out.
I plant my hand on the door, hesitating. “I thought we said...”
“I know what we said,” she answers, her voice steady, her eyes locked on mine. “But I trust you now. I’m not asking for anything more than for you to hold me.”
She tugs my hand gently, her eyes soft but determined, and I step forward, crossing the line we swore we wouldn’t. Maybe this is our version of a trust fall—a leap into something we’re both scared of.
I meet her eyes, the space between us narrowing as we stand at the end of the bed. “Vic, maybe for you this doesn’t mean anything. Touching like this, being held—maybe you can go through the motions with nothing behind it. But for me, it’s a reminder of what I don’t have. If we’re not playing by the rules anymore, then I want it to be because we’re not pretending either. I’m not good at faking my feelings for you—or pretending they don’t exist. As much as I’d like to hold you now, I can’t do it without feeling all the things I used to. So as much as I want to say yes, I can’t, not unless it means something more for you, too.”
“Leo...” She bites her lip and I suddenly wonder if I’ve said too much, asked her to be too vulnerable.
She plays with the hem of the hoodie. “Do you remember the night of the New Year’s Eve party when we were washing dishes and you backed me into that wall?”
“How could I forget?” I laugh softly. “I almost kissed you then. Before I had any excuse to.”
She looks at me with a soft smile. “That’s when I realized I wanted you again. Not just as a friend, but the way we used to be.” She sits on the bed, folding her legs underneath her. “You said you can’t be with me unless it means something to me. Well, it does—so much, it hurts when you’re not with me. Right now, all I want is for you to hold me—to chase away the monsters in my head—the ones that keep me up at night.”
“Monsters?” I ask. “Or hoodie thieves?”
“More like my mom chasing me down in heels, armed with disapproving looks and pointed questions.”
“Ah, the scariest kind,” I say in agreement, joining her on the bed. “I don’t know if I’m brave enough to face that.”
“Actually...” She glances at the bedspread, her smile falling before she looks up at me. “This is me asking for help, Leo. I’m not good at it. And I know I’m being ridiculous...”
I put a finger gently to her lips to silence her. “Asking for help is not ridiculous—it’s a sign of trust. I’ll always help you, Vic. Even if it means sacrificing my favorite hoodie.”
I pull her into my arms as I settle against the pillows, wrapping my arms around her waist. She tucks herself into my chest and I lower my face, breathing in that faint strawberry scent. It’s all over my hoodie now, and I’m not sure I’ll ever get it back. But I’d sacrifice every hoodie in the world if it means I get to hold her in my arms for the rest of my life.
“Vic,” I whisper, dropping my lips to her neck and kissing it lightly.
“Yes?” she asks quietly in the dark.
“Would you be willing to wear my jersey once? So that every time I play, I can think of you. And when we’re apart, I’ll have a piece of you with me—always.”
“I’d love that more than anything,” she whispers, curling up in my arms. Her breathing softens almost instantly, and I feel the tension leave her body as she drifts off. Holding her now, it’s hard to imagine anything ever going wrong again.