Back On Ice

Chapter Twenty Six

SOPHIE

June passes in a blur. In the two weeks before Carter left, my phone pinged at least once a day with a message from him. First, explaining further the situation with Nicole, how she’s been to almost every game and always tries to get his attention. How he’s never indulged her except the night of the “worst drunken mistake of my life”.

I had to laugh at that.

Then he was updating me on communications from the contractor, letting me know the exact dates he’ll be gone for summer training camp.

Now it’s the beginning of July, and I’m definitely not counting down the days until he gets back.

Nope. Not me. Just like I haven’t been obsessively rereading the texts he sent me before he left.

I should be sleeping. Instead, I’m laying in bed with my phone open, rereading the first text he sent me after I drove away from the rink's parking lot in a rage.

Carter: I’ve already told Nicole to GTFO of Ivy Glen or I’m getting a restraining order. I’ve also blocked her number. You need to know, my heart has always belonged to you, Soph.

The words had done nothing to soothe my anger at the time, but now I look to them for comfort, rereading the last eight words like they’re the air I need to breathe

My heart has always belonged to you, Soph.

And I haven’t seen Nicole since that day. Something tells me that if she were still in town, she’s the kind of woman who would rub it in my face.

I scroll through the rest of the messages. Sometimes it’s something useful like information on the rink construction, and sometimes it’s something completely random, like how he thought of me when he went to Sal’s for lunch. In one of his messages, the longest one he’s sent, he talks about how he’ll be back in August, and he’s planning on staying in Ivy Glen and making the forty-five minute commute to the Garden every day.

The day he left, it was radio silence, and has been since.

I know I told him I need time, and he’s respecting that. Which I appreciate.

I do, really.

It’s not like I care if he texts me anyway.

Damn it, who am I kidding ? I miss him. Terribly.

I hadn’t realized it at the time, but part of why I fought so hard to keep him out was the fact I was afraid of getting hurt again. The moment there was even a kernel of doubt, I pushed him away. Demanding space and ignoring his attempts to fix things.

And now… now that he gave me that space, I miss him.

Still, one thought keeps nagging me. What if he isn’t just respecting my need for space? What if this all became too much for him, and he’s moving on?

That’s what keeps me from texting him and telling him that I want him to come back. I don’t think I’d be able to handle it if I were to reach out and get rejected.

It’s better to wait until he comes back. If he comes back.

I shake my head. No. He will come back. He has to…

My eyes catch the corner of my screen. Shit. It’s three in the morning. I shake my head and put my phone down on the nightstand. I’ll only get four and a half hours of sleep at this point and I’ve already been feeling more tired than usual.

Tossing and turning for hours after with thoughts of Carter plaguing my mind does nothing to help me feel rested, and by the time I blink my eyes open in the morning to the sound of my alarm, my stomach drops.

It’s nine thirty. It’s been going off for over an hour. I’ve slept straight through it.

The flower shop opens at nine and Kerry can’t make it in until noon.

Shit shit shit .

Scrambling out of bed, I don’t bother with a shower like I normally would, and have to double my deodorant to avoid any chance of B.O. and pull my hair into an unwashed, messy bun. Five minutes later, I’m hightailing it out of the driveway like my ass on fire and make it to the shop by nine fifty.

I don’t even want to think about how many customers I missed this morning. I can’t believe I overslept. I never sleep in. But then I couldn’t sleep last night, and I started looking at Carter’s texts…

Sighing, I shake my head as I unlock the front door, making the little bell jingle. The sound grates on my nerves, as if it’s announcing to everyone, “Hey guys! Sophie finally decided to show up to work!”

That might just be me though. Everything seems to set me off recently. This whole situation with Carter is really fucking with my emotions.

At least I don’t have to worry about the rinks or picking Jordan up. Twin Rinks closed for construction at the beginning of June, and with Tom off for the summer, he’s been able to take Jordan, Theo, and Bhodi to summer camp. I’ll have the house all to myself this weekend since Tom and Jordan are heading out on their annual father-son road trip. It’s left me with a lot of free time, but I’m not sure I like it. I’m so used to going, going, going, and this summer has left me alone with my thoughts way too frequently for my liking.

Once I settle behind the front counter for the day and open the register, I see a note from Kerry on the counter.

Sophie,

I’ve pre-arranged the orders for pick up today and they are in the fridge. The front windows have been cleaned, the back’s been swept, and all the shelves have been dusted.

The morning should be easy, relax and take a break ;)

Kerry

Shit. With the rink closed and not having to worry about Jordan, all I’ve been doing is taking a break. I know she means well, and she’s trying to get me to relax, but how does she not realize by now that I need this? The work keeps me busy so my thoughts don’t spiral, especially with Carter being gone.

Fine. If all the work for the shop is taken care of, I’ll start a financial plan for the rinks once they reopen. Hell, while I’m at it, I’ll run some numbers for expanding the flower shop’s business like Kerry and I planned too.

I’m determined to not think about Carter one more second than I have to, and if I have to drown in numbers to achieve that, then so be it.

The sound of a knock on my door has me placing my laptop on the coffee table where I had been knee-deep in numbers for the rec center. Who’s knocking on my door on a Sunday evening? I swear, if it’s Mrs. Allan next door complaining about how I parked my car again?—

“Abbie?” She has two containers of Chinese food in her hands, looking me up and down with an assessing gaze.

“Hey girl, I brought dinner—your favorite, Chen’s Palace. I know Tom and Jordan are on their little father-son vacation and thought you could use some company.” She holds the food up and grins, but there’s a glimmer of concern in her eyes.

“You’re the best.” I give her a smile. “Sure, come on in.” After shutting the door behind her, I walk to the couch and pick my laptop back up. “I’ll join you as soon as I’m done working on this set of numbers.”

“What is it?” Abbie asks as she settles into the couch next to me.

“Just some figures for the rink once it opens again. I want to be ready.” No point in telling her that if my brain stops concentrating for too long, it goes straight to Carter. I’d just get an “I-told-you-so” look, and I don’t want to deal with that right now.

“I don’t know why you don’t go into business for yourself, Soph. You know that the members of this town would much rather come to someone they know and trust than have their accounting handled by some suit in Boston.” She passes out the containers of Chinese food, making sure I get my extra spring roll.

Ever since my date with Carter when he asked me what I would do if nobody needed me at the shop or the rinks, I thought about working for myself, putting my business degree to use on my own accounting business. The thought of it had always filled me with unease. I’m used to being the one helping, not the one needing help. Knowing how many people I have at my back, it doesn’t seem so scary.

“Maybe… maybe I will.” My smile is genuine, and I imagine myself in a little office on main street, people that I’ve known for years coming to me for help with their taxes, finances, or even just budgeting advice.

“Really?” Abbie nearly squeals, sitting forward. “What changed? I’ve been trying to get you to do something for yourself for years.”

“I don’t know,” I shrug, but I can’t keep the smile off my face when I think of Carter’s words. “Everyone is always telling me to do something for me. Kerry only needs a bit more training to take over the shop, and things with the rink are changing. They might need a full time manager after they reopen. I’m not sure I can commit to that. Plus, Jordan is getting older, and before long, he’ll be too old for a babysitter.

“It just… finally feels like the right time.”

My phone rings, and I pick it up from the coffee table, checking the caller ID. “Fucking Oscar,” I mutter, promptly hitting the “ignore” button.

“Girl, he’s still trying to get you to go out with him?” Abbie asks incredulously. “Guy’s got some balls.”

Tossing my phone on the couch next to me, I turn to her. “The calls have only gotten more frequent since Carter left. It’s like he thinks I’ll be into him without Carter here or something.” I snort. “When in reality, every time Oscar calls, I miss Carter a little more.”

Abbie gives me a sympathetic look. “You want me to tell him to fuck off for you?”

Shaking my head, I grab the container of honey sesame chicken in front of me. “No, he’ll stop eventually. If you get involved, it might cause problems for your dad on the council. We don’t know if Oscar is petty enough to bring it up.”

This time, Abbie snorts. “I’m pretty sure he is, considering he’s petty enough to try to call a council meeting about the rink just to see you.”

A shiver runs through my body at that memory. He’s always been persistent, but he’s really creeping me out now. Last week, Oscar attempted to call in an “emergency meeting” regarding “issues with the rink construction” that I know for a fact Carter already took care of. One call to George to verify was all I needed to refuse to attend. I wouldn’t have felt comfortable without Carter there anyway, but at least I had the information George sent me in case he happened to concern other council members.

Pushing the frustrating memory away, I open the container of my favorite chicken from Chen’s Palace, but instead of the mouth-watering, sweet, tangy smell I was expecting, I’m met with a sickly sweet stench that makes my stomach curdle. Bile rises in my throat, and next thing I know, I’m in the bathroom, on my knees in front of the toilet, heaving my guts out.

Hair gently lifts from my shoulders and I look up to see Abbie standing above me, with concern in eyes. “Holy shit, are you okay? Obviously, you just barfed, but have you been feeling sick otherwise?” She comes over and presses the back of her hand to my forehead. “You look a little peaky.”

“Yeah,” I wipe my mouth, “I think maybe I’m just off, you know? Stress and all that. I slept terrible last night”

She eyes me carefully as I take a deep breath, waiting for my stomach to settle so I can stand up. Turning on the sink, I stick my mouth under the faucet and swish some water, trying to get rid of the taste of bile before getting out my toothbrush.

“So, I feel bad for kicking you out when you just puked your guts out, but like… I really need to pee,” Abbie says, grabbing her purse and rummaging through it. “Shit, do you have a tampon? I left mine at home.”

“I’m not sure, I haven’t…” My blood runs cold, my heart pounding out of my chest. I haven’t been paying nearly as much attention to my cycle since Carter’s been gone.

Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck .

I’m late. I’m never late.

“Phone. I need my phone. A calendar.” My hands pat my pockets for my phone, but come up empty.

“Use mine,” Abbie says quickly, fishing hers out and handing it to me unlocked.

My heart pounds in my chest as I open her calendar app, desperately trying to remember the last time I had my period. Carter had bought me four different kinds of heating pads and two tubs of ice cream, and we sat on his bed watching movies all night.

That was… that was the day after he confronted the council about that alternate proposal for the NHL arena. The week before I saw the texts from Nicole.

Six fucking weeks ago.

Abbie’s face turns pale as she registers the look on my face.

“Okay, it’s okay. Don’t panic. It’s probably nothing. People have late periods all the time. But, okay,” She takes a deep breath. “Let’s make sure. All the pharmacies will be closed already, but I can run to my uncle’s practice and grab some tests.”

My head nods numbly as I stand there in shock, vaguely registering the sound of my front door opening and closing as Abbie leaves. I can’t believe this is even a possibility. I’m on birth control. I take every pill religiously, right when I wake up. Except…

God fucking damn it.

I grab my current birth control pack from my purse and race up the stairs to my bedroom, wrenching open the bathroom door and digging in my trash.

Scraps of tissue and make-up remover pads litter half the floor before I find it.

Last month's birth control packet. The last date of the pills was a Tuesday…

And the first day of my new packet is a Thursday.

I skipped a day. And I’m ninety-nine percent sure I know exactly what day it happened. The morning that I stormed out of Carter’s hotel room after seeing the texts from Nicole. I had been so angry and distracted that I didn’t take my pill.

My stomach roils and I lurch for the toilet again, dry-heaving. What the hell am I going to do?

I can’t have a baby.

I can’t.

Carter and I aren’t even… I don’t know what we are right now. He hasn’t reached out since he’s been gone. I know I asked for time, but… for weeks, when he first got here, I wanted him to leave me alone and he wouldn’t listen. Now he takes my request seriously?

Or… the thought of him just being done with me makes me sick to my stomach. I just don’t know how I could have been so careless and stupid. Ten years of being on birth control and I never once miss a pill. I get emotional one time and screw everything up.

Abbie finds me in my bathroom, clutching the toilet bowl with trash all over my floor. “Oh, Soph…” There’s pain for me in her voice as she comes up next to me and rubs large circles across my back. “It’s going to be okay. No matter what the test says, I’m here for you.”

Swallowing roughly, I hold my hand out for the tests, which she places gently into my palm.

She’s right. I can do this. It’s just peeing on a stick. That’s the first step. What comes after…? We’ll just see about that.

Ten minutes later, we’re huddled in my bathroom, staring at the three positive pregnancy tests on my bathroom counter.

My breath quickens, my eyes burn, and I allow a moment to feel sorry for myself.

This is insane. I messed up once , and now my life is about to change forever. How is this fair? I’m already pulled in too many directions as it is, and now I get to add being knocked up on the list? I’ve already done part of the whole baby thing once. I know how much time and effort it takes, and I didn’t even have the rink and flower shop to think about when I was helping Tom with Jordan. How am I going to manage this?

Fuck.

Take a deep breath, Sophie. The moment is over. Time for the real question. What do you do now?

Am I ready for a baby? I’m not sure.

Do I even want one with Carter? The cynical part of me isn’t sure, but I need to tell him. If he leaves… if he decides he doesn’t want me or the baby, then at least I gave him a fair shot.

He deserves the chance to be the kind of father that his never was.

I don’t want to believe that he would leave, even if I haven’t heard from him while he’s been at training camp. He’s the type of man that would stay, if only for his child. Not that I would want that to be the reason he stays, but deep down, I believe that he loves me. He would stay for me, and for the baby.

What would that look like? Me, him, and the baby together. Carter’s onyx black hair, my honey brown eyes. My heart stutters. This imaginary child is the same child I’ve envisioned every time the thought of having a child someday would cross my mind.

I don’t think I’ve ever seen myself with a child that wasn’t his.

Despite everything over the last nine years, and because of everything in the last three months , I love him. I’m pretty sure I never stopped. That all my tried-and-failed, short lived relationships never worked out because they weren't him . I just never realized it.

Abbie grips my shoulder. “Holy shit, Soph. Are you going to tell him?”

Swallowing, I nod, and my voice is rough when I speak. “Yeah. I need to tell him. But… can you not say anything for now?”

“Of course!” She nods furiously with a look that says “As if you even have to ask!”

“Thanks.” My eyes are focused on the two little pink lines of the test that have turned my life upside down. “Carter deserves to know first before anyone else finds out about this.”

I’ll tell him as soon as he’s back. And maybe… we could make it work.

Make us work.