58. Tee
Tee
W hen Cody disappeared halfway through the wedding, I swear to fuck, I almost lost my shit.
Then, Lindsay sidled up to me and told me he’d been called away for work, and the shit didn’t get entirely lost, but I still freaked out a little. He didn’t seem all that reassured by my reassurance, and I’d have felt better if I could watch him work the crowd, just to touch base with him.
Instead, I was on my own.
It made me play music that wasn’t exactly cheerful. Probably funereal in all honesty, but hey, it only lasted for as long as it took the band to show up—which was never.
Callan’s trio failed to arrive, so I handled most of the music until the events crew set up some speakers and piped tunes in instead because “Time to Say Goodbye,” “My Way,” and “Wind Beneath My Wings” aren’t wedding enough.
Pfft.
Midway through the meal, Cody showed up, but I was surrounded on all sides and he was at one end of the table and I was at the other.
I wanted nothing more than to crawl onto his lap and ask him what the fuck was going on, but I didn’t.
Ever since I played Moonlight Sonata , Callan’s been asking me if I’m fine, and I’ve had to lie.
I’m not okay.
I’m in love.
And the man I love had the audacity to pull another disappearing act!
(And failed to translate nervous Tee, who was suffering from foot-in-mouth syndrome. He should have instinctively known I was declaring my undying devotion with my eyes, right ?)
His absence is the reason I slip off to bed hella early, though I could be rubbing shoulders with Liam Donnghal and every other New York Stars’ player in attendance.
Because it’s official, love bites.
And as cool as the hockey players are, they’re not as cool as my man.
By the time I step out of the bathroom after a two-hour soak, my anxiety rebounds when he still isn’t back from wherever the hell he went in the first place.
As I lie there, alone in the dark, in my big, empty, Cody-less bed, I wonder how I’m ever going to get to sleep with all these feelings rattling around inside me.
We need to talk. But tomorrow, I’m flying out to Toronto with Zee for two days and I don’t want to do this over the phone.
Curling onto my side, I scoff out a laugh when I realize how we’ve had months to have this conversation, but I tamped it down and chose to keep us secret.
No wonder I’m on the brink of explosion.
“It’s all his fault,” I fume, punching my pillow. “If he hadn’t sent me that goddamn ‘Dear John,’ then we’d have just fallen in love the normal way! Instead, I’ve been left with all this love in me building up like a gas leak. One lit match and BOOM.”
I plunk back onto my pillow and stare at the ceiling.
Keeping us a secret, I recognize, protected future me from Pigeon Creek’s scrutiny if he lit up our relationship and left me to deal with the blast.
This whole fake un-dating thing has been an exercise in building trust. I was just too emotionally dumb to realize that.
And now that I have, now that I know he loves me back, now that I know he won’t yank at my heartstrings like this is a game of Jenga, he decides to misread all my signals and vanish!
“GAH!”
Thoroughly agitated, I manage to sleep by some small miracle, hoping Cody will wake me up when he climbs into bed with me.
Only, I wake up alone.
Mind infuriated, heart full of longing, soul missing its other half enough I could throttle him, I grouchily get my shit together so I can confront him.
But he’s not in his wing.
Nor is he anywhere in the house—even a severely hungover, mid-breakfast-prepping Mrs. Abelman doesn’t know where he is.
It’s official—the next time I see him, I won’t be gifting him one of the garnet pebbles that I bought when we were in Saskatoon together.
I’ll be throwing it at his head.